So I Held an Election in South America (3)

The day after he returned from the provincial campaign tour, Eugene summoned Isabella.

"I think I'll take today's campaign to Publica Street."

"...Pardon?"

For a moment, Isabella doubted her own ears.

They had already seized power completely, and they had done it a long time ago. The heads of every government ministry had long since become senior secretaries answering directly to the president rather than ministers in their own right, and the civil servants were, for all practical purposes, Eugene's own hands and feet. In other words, whatever the rest of the country might do, the bureaucracy had no choice but to support him.

And yet he wanted to go to Publica Street, where the government ministries were clustered, to look the civil servants in the eye. Was that any different from announcing he intended to tighten the screws on his own people?

"I wonder if... that is truly necessary, Your Excellency."

"No. We have to go. Everyone's working hard, aren't they? How happy would they be if the head of the nation's administration dropped by to encourage them at a time like this?"

"......"

Watching Eugene refuse to yield, Isabella thought, His Excellency has not a shred of trust in anyone.

Looking at a man prepared to crush even the seeds of a betrayal that might never come, she felt a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠thrill run through her. There was a pang of hurt, too, at the thought that she herself might look that way in his eyes — but more than that, she was moved by the steel of his insight.

A man whose reason overwhelmed emotion so completely it left no room for anything else. That was how Isabella's superhuman on a white horse had to be.

"Understood. Then I shall notify each ministry of Your Excellency's visit."

"Ah, don't do that. It'll just get in the way of their work. Let's just drop by casually."

"A-a surprise raid as well... is that what you mean?"

"Come on, what is this, a war? A surprise attack? We're just going to slip over like we're out for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a stroll, say a few words of encouragement, and come back."

Isabella's eyes shook wildly as she looked at him, speaking with a small smile.

A short while later, Publica Street.

It was a peaceful afternoon in the middle of the workday. Civil servants who had just finished lunch were nodding off at their desks or killing time with idle chatter when—

Vrooom—

Dozens of black sedans could be seen gliding in, sliding up the avenue as if the asphalt itself had been greased for them. There was not a single siren, but the sheer, overwhelming presence of the convoy snapped every gaze on the street toward it at once.

The problem was the plate.

"Th-that license plate..."

The plate on the center vehicle was shaped like the national flag. In all of San Marcos, there was only one car that carried a plate like that.

"That's... His Excellency's car, isn't it?"

The presidential armored limousine. It had been a gift from the chairman of Hyunhwa, and it gleamed so extravagantly that even from a distance there was no mistaking it. The civil servants recognized it in an instant.

The Interior Ministry director who had been smoking by the window let out a scream of pure horror.

"E-emergency! Emergency! His Excellency is here!"

"What? With no notice?"

"Assemble everyone immediately! Clear the desks! Don't leave a single speck of dust!"

"Get word to every ministry! His Excellency is on his way right now!"

The government ministries along Publica Street dissolved into pandemonium in a matter of seconds. The highest power in San Marcos — an iron-blooded leader without a drop of blood or a tear to his name — had come to visit.

They had thousands of heads among them, but the civil servants' thoughts were almost identical.

He's come to lock everything down completely before the election!

Moments later, thousands of civil servants poured out of the ministry buildings like a swarm of ants. Without a single person ordering them to do it, they formed ranks along both sides of the road, lining up in neat files. They stood there like soldiers waiting for inspection, and cold sweat began to bead on their faces.

Step. Step.

The car door opened, and Eugene stepped into view. Behind him, Isabella — the regime's second-in-command — and a wall of sunglass-wearing security agents arranged themselves like a folding screen.

Eugene got out of the car and spoke with a kindly smile.

"Oh my. I was hoping to go around to each ministry and visit you in person, but everyone's already out here. I'm sorry — you must all be busy with the election coming up."

"N-not at all! We are nothing but overjoyed to see Your Excellency!"

The man standing closest to Eugene, Budget Director Sergio of the Education Ministry, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠answered in a booming voice.

"Ah, the Education Ministry's Budget Director. We're acquainted, aren't we? Cousins with Senior Secretary Sergio, I believe?"

"I'm honored that you remember!"

After exchanging greetings, Eugene lifted his head and looked around.

"I'd love to shake hands with each and every one of you, but I feel I'd be taking too much of your time... Could I perhaps borrow that chair over there?"

A civil servant snatched up a chair and sprinted over with it. Eugene stepped up onto the seat and spoke through a megaphone.

"First, I'd like to apologize for dropping in so suddenly and taking time out of your workday."

He meant it with complete sincerity. On the receiving end, it produced a spectacular misunderstanding.

"I wanted to see all of you who are working so hard for a fair election."

"This election is a very important event for our San Marcos. I've heard there's a great deal to prepare, and many procedural details that require careful attention. And since it's an election being held after such a long time, the burden on those of you handling the actual work must be considerable."

"UN observers will be visiting for this election. That means the foreign press will be watching our election as well. Naturally, there shouldn't be any mistakes. Please prepare thoroughly so that nothing unfortunate occurs."

"Of course, it will be hard and exhausting work. You have no prior experience, and you're short on personnel... But the nation trusts you. I trust you as well."

"Civil servants are the hands and feet of the nation. The country only stands as it should when you think rightly and act accordingly. I want to ask that you move in just that way for this election as well."

Seeing some of the more faint-hearted among them breaking into a cold sweat, Eugene spoke with genuine concern.

"As important as the election is, your health is important too. If you collapse, who will look after the nation? Let's work hard while taking care of our health."

The civil servants trembled from head to toe at his words. Eugene waved, a look of warm satisfaction on his face.

"I am here thanks to all of you. The election results aren't in yet, but let's keep building this country into something magnificent together. You'll all be with me, won't you?"

To those listening, it was an absolute command that could not be refused.

"Of course, Your Excellency!"

"We are prepared to bury our bones here!"

"We will serve Your Excellency even in death!"

Cries thick with terror filled Publica Street from end to end.

"You're all busy, so this nuisance will take his leave. Give it your all for the rest of the day."

Eugene nodded in satisfaction and climbed back into the car.

The moment the motorcade pulled away from the street, a thunderous ovation erupted. Nearly a thousand civil servants clapped like seals, palms stinging, as if the skin might split.

"Everyone seems to be working so hard. I'm very satisfied."

Eugene smiled contentedly and sank into the seat.

A few days later, news of San Marcos reached the living rooms of the Western world, from the United States to the United Kingdom.

The anchor began delivering the news with an expression that was at once grave and plainly intrigued. The screen switched, and footage from the campaign rally in Libertad Square a few days earlier filled the broadcast.

"Waaaaaah!!!"

"Eugene! Eugene! Eugene!"

A million-strong crowd packed the screen from edge to edge. Citizens had occupied even the rooftops and the street trees, going wild at a single gesture from Eugene, cheering with tears streaming down their faces. It was indistinguishable from a religious revival.

"As you can see, the atmosphere on the ground is extraordinary. The people of San Marcos are giving absolute support to Acting President Eugene Choi."

The anchor turned to the expert beside him. Beneath the man on screen, a caption appeared: Charles Abram, Professor of Political Science and Diplomacy at New York University.

"San Marcos is known as a long-standing dictatorship. One could even say he inherited the previous regime — so why is he receiving this kind of support?"

"It's simple. Eugene Choi's policies have been so successful they're being called the Miracle of Libertad."

"Can we confirm that with numbers?"

"Of course."

Graphs and figures appeared behind the expert.

"In just three years since he took over as acting president, national GDP has tripled, and the unemployment rate has fallen to a quarter of what it was. National income has exploded as well, and a middle class has begun to form."

The anchor asked again, as if he couldn't quite believe it.

"How were they able to achieve that kind of success in such a short time?"

"It can be analyzed any number of ways depending on your point of view, but academia sees the biggest reason as this: Eugene Choi's policies were a successful New Deal."

"A successful New Deal... so a state-led policy, then."

"It's also the fastest growth strategy a developing country can pursue. But not everyone succeeds. There are plenty of countries that pursued state-led development policy and failed anyway."

"Then how was San Marcos able to succeed?"

"Ironically, the fact that it was a dictatorship is seen as having played a major role. When no one can oppose the government's policies, it's much easier to push them through with real force."

"Looked at another way, it could also be called Eugene Choi's leadership."

"That's right."

"Thank you for your thoughts. Thank you for your time today."

"Thank you."

The expert left the desk, and the anchor added a closing remark.

"The San Marcos presidential election has been confirmed as Eugene Choi running unopposed. According to local sources, his approval rating is well over ninety percent, so his election is considered a certainty..."

Not long after the broadcast, the President of the United States, Drumpf, posted on his social media as well.

With even the American president's public shout-out piled on top, the election in San Marcos ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠became a matter of worldwide attention.

And so three months passed.

At last, the morning of election day — the morning that would decide the fate of San Marcos — dawned.