If It Doesn't Exist, Create It
January 11, 1930.
In the predawn hours of Nihonbashi, Tokyo—where the shockwaves of the Great Crash that had begun across the Pacific had yet to arrive—the world was as quiet as if everyone were still fast asleep. Yet, in the midst of that silence, a single window in an old wooden inn was glowing brightly.
The reason the guest in this room was awake at nearly 4:00 AM was the object lying before him on his knees.
It was nothing other than a bundle of nine sticks of dynamite.
Tick, tick.
As the second hand of the pocket watch, tightly secured to the explosives with string, continued its steady march, the man kneeling on the tatami mat checked the wires connecting the detonator to the watch one last time before looking up.
"It is done."
Where he looked, a man wearing a coat as black as the night sky outside stood with a rigid expression.
The man on his knees continued, "Comrade. Do not forget—we only have one chance."
"Everyone only gets one chance. Just make sure the preparations on the back end are solid."
With those words, the man in the coat shoved the dynamite bundles, now connected to the detonator, into a large bag.
"By the way, what money did you use to buy these? I’m certain that even when we went to Manchuria last time, we were debating whether or not to dismantle them."
At the man in the coat’s question, the man on his knees offered a faint smile.
"A nameless compatriot in the Americas sent a large sum of money to the Provisional Government. We received a portion of it to procure these."
"A compatriot in the Americas, you say..."
Thump, thump.
"Though they are a benefactor whose face and name we do not know, their burning heart for our liberation is well-contained within these. We are simply showing that heart to the Japanese bastards."
"A truly grateful person indeed, to give us this final opportunity."
The man tapping the bomb bag on the floor grinned, and the man in the coat nodded with a satisfied expression before hoisting the bag full of explosives.
Clank! Clank!
Soon, the faint sound of the first streetcar departing could be heard from far away outside the window. Confirming that the clock in the room pointed to 4:30 AM, he donned the fedora hanging on the wall and turned around.
"It is time to go."
"Do not forget. Five minutes. Just five minutes."
At his comrade’s final reminder, the man nodded silently and stepped out of the room.
Creak.
Stepping out of the inn’s old door, the man took his first step into the street just before the dawn broke, without a single moment of hesitation.
How long had he walked? The man looked at the signboard of the stone building visible in the distance and offered a bitter smile.
[BANK OF JAPAN]
That was the target of the final act of heroism he and the Uiyol-dan aimed for before disbanding.
After enrolling Sonny and little Kennedy in the shooting club, a peaceful daily life in Florida followed. That is, if you exclude trivial events like meeting Babe Ruth in downtown Miami to get an autograph, or running into Edison while out fishing and watching his experiment on extracting rubber from plants grown in the States.
Come to think of it, synthetic rubber didn't exist yet, did it?
I should try to recall how to make that.
That was how 1929 passed, and it had been ten days since we welcomed the New Year with a warm breeze.
"Lee, have you adjusted to Florida a bit now?"
"Yes, Boss. If the weather stays like this, I’d want to stay all year round."
"Heh heh, we’re leaving for Chicago again next week, so enjoy it to the fullest until then. You wouldn't even be able to come in the summer because it gets hot enough to burn you to death."
Wouldn't Chicago be less cold by then, so it'd be bearable? With that thought, I looked at my family sitting around the dining table. Mrs. Capone, Rita, Sonny, and even Jay. Sonny couldn't stop smiling, perhaps because he’d been to the shooting range, and Jay was fast asleep in Rita’s arms.
"Sonny, shooting must have been quite fun."
"Yes! We did something called clay shooting today, and it was even more fun because I got to hit things flying in the air!"
"And your friend?"
"Jack seemed to enjoy it too. He didn't seem to hit fixed targets well, but he was good at hitting moving ones. Of course, I won."
"Kuh-heh-heh, that’s my boy!"
At those words, my father-in-law burst into a hearty laugh.
"He inherited my blood, but I never imagined he’d have a talent for shooting. If it weren't for you, Lee, I might never have known."
"Not at all. You would have discovered his talent eventually."
He’s this good at such a young age; if he learns diligently from now on, he might even make it to the Olympics later. I don't know about the LA Olympics in two years due to his age, but couldn't he easily make it to the 1936 Berlin Olympics? When that time comes, I should take Jay along with Sonny and go watch that mustache guy.
It was just as I was imagining the future Sonny and the mustache guy standing before him.
Beep-!
With a jarring noise, the jazz music playing in the living room cut off, and an anchor’s urgent voice came through the radio speaker.
-This is a special bulletin. We are interrupting our broadcast to bring you an urgent news report.
"An urgent bulletin?"
"Looks like Hoover is trying to release a 'Hoover Truck' after the 'Hoover Car' this time."
Hmm, an urgent bulletin? Is there any other urgent news at this point besides a second crash? While my father-in-law’s sarcasm continued, I focused on the radio with a puzzled expression.
And then.
-Early this morning, in the capital of Japan... *static*... a powerful explosion occurred near the Bank of Japan. Local police are attributing this incident to the work of subversive elements within the country, and as a result, it is expected that there will be setbacks to Japan's plan to return to the gold standard, which was to begin today...
An explosion at the Bank of Japan?
I don't think that was in the textbooks?
"Honey, Japan is... isn't that near your country?"
"It is, but... to think something like this would happen."
No, there weren't any such acts of heroism at this point in history, were there? The Uiyol-dan should have disbanded around last year, so who on earth did it?
I quickly turned my brain to think about why history had suddenly changed. Soon, I was able to identify the most likely reason.
"Don't tell me... the thousand dollars?"
No way, the $1,000 I put in the donation box flew off as an independence bomb? Perhaps it was something I should have naturally anticipated. A thousand dollars is a huge sum that accounts for a significant portion of the Provisional Government's budget, and the Provisional Government, having handled a large amount of money for the first time in a while, would have naturally distributed it to related organizations. And it seems one of them was the Uiyol-dan, which was on the verge of disbanding.
Hmm...
I don't know.
"Honey?"
"Boss, I’ll be back after making a quick phone call."
"At this hour?"
"I thought of a decent investment opportunity, I’ll be right back."
With those words, I entered my office on the second floor. I immediately picked up the receiver on my desk and called out the number to the operator.
Before long.
-What is it?
A low male voice came from the other side of the receiver. It was a broker introduced to me by Mr. Goojik, whom I had been trading with since a month before the Great Depression began. To the broker’s question, I answered briefly.
"I want to short the yen."
"Shorting, you say. How much will you be doing?"
History will naturally change according to my actions anyway, and no one knows how far that changed history will go. Since it’s come to this, I should be grateful. For starters, let’s just hit Japan with some economic retaliation.
"Let’s go with about 5 million."
Take that, Independence Punch!
Chicago, which I returned to after about two months since finishing my vacation in Florida, was still blowing with a biting wind. It didn't just mean the cold wind of winter.
"Boss, Consigliere, these are the properties in Chicago that are over-leveraged or have come up for auction, as you mentioned."
People who couldn't withstand the Great Crash and were making tearful fire sales to turn their assets into cash somehow had started to appear one by one.
"Goojik, how much money do we have to spend?"
"If you combine the money earned from the Consigliere’s previous investment and the money newly earned this time, it is approximately 79 million dollars."
The economic retaliation I carried out in Florida a while ago brought in quite a juicy profit. Thanks to that, Japan’s economy, which was shorted, will hit rock bottom a little faster, but if I consider it as returning what they sucked out of Joseon, shouldn't that be fine?
"79 million dollars..."
It was then that my father-in-law opened his mouth.
"With this much, we could buy every brewery in Chicago."
Breweries? That won't do. I shook my head at my admiring father-in-law.
"But there will be quite a few things more useful than breweries. And not all the properties have come out yet, either."
It will take at least three more years for people to realize that there is a basement under the floor, and a mantle under the basement. Picking up the properties coming out now isn't bad, but it means that to buy the real big ones, I have to aim for three years from now. And breweries will be trash in three years, so there’s no reason to buy them.
"Lee, then what are we going to buy?"
"There’s no one to buy the products even if we buy factories, so it’s not very meaningful yet. As for buildings, they still have a long way to go before they hit rock bottom."
"Then, do you have something in mind?"
At Goojik’s question, I nodded.
"Banks."
Banks. To make money, it’s natural to reach into businesses that handle money. And if I need to launder the black money earned from those businesses into white money, it’s even more necessary. In that sense, banks, which can be called the foundation of capitalism, were properties that I had to get my hands on if the opportunity arose.
"Not yet, but soon people will lose faith in banks. When that happens, everyone will withdraw the money they’ve put in the banks, and banks without money have no choice but to fail. We are aiming for that moment."
Due to the nature of banks, which only hold a portion of the money deposited, when a bank run occurs, credit is shattered, and because credit is shattered, the shock of the bank run becomes even more severe, falling into a vicious cycle. In effect, it’s a death sentence for a bank. In that situation, if I offer money, the bank president, who is the owner of the bank, would surely try to take it at any cost. Including the bank he owns.
"But there are no suitable properties for banks yet."
However, Goojik’s reaction wasn't very good.
"Even if the Consigliere’s words are correct, it will take at least half a year for properties to appear."
Huh? Why wait for that?
"No, there’s no need to wait."
"You can't buy a bank that hasn't even become a property yet, can you?"
At Goojik’s question, asked with a puzzled expression, I answered briefly.
"If it doesn't exist, create it."
"...Excuse me?"
"If I make it a property, won't it become a property?"
Soon, the bomb that went off in Japan will cross the Pacific and turn into a storm. And when the storm sweeps everything away, people will have to give up what they have even if they don't want to. And the person who survives safely in the storm will gain everything. That is, me.