The Uninvited Guest
The friends I had at the Pinkerton Agency didn't need more than six hours to extract information from the Japanese spy.
[Name: Kenji Ishikawa]
[Position: Employee, Mitsui & Co. Sales Department]
[Motive: Surveillance of Jun Lee, CEO of SCC, and verification of his ties to independence factions]
[Evidence: Film from a camera and a notebook presumed to contain Imperial Japanese ciphers]
[Other: An unidentified figure appears to be behind the operation. .......]
"It’s not like it’s the first or second time the Japanese have been watching us, but to think they’d be targeting you, Mr. Lee......."
Mr. Kim Gyeong, who had been reading the report over my shoulder, shook his head with a look of utter disgust.
I nodded.
"I suppose I’ve been doing quite a lot of eye-catching work lately."
Everything I did was necessary, but from Japan’s perspective, I must have become quite the thorn in their side, what with all the various projects I’ve been spearheading in the U.S.
"Mr. Lee, please, be careful. You never know what those sinister bastards might do."
"Sir, please don't worry too much. This is America, not Japan, isn't it?"
Furthermore, this wasn't the Pacific coast like California; this was the heart of Chicago, deep inland.
At best, they could try some media manipulation or hire a gang to attempt an ambush, but even that would require them to take significant risks.
Besides.
"And you know very well who my father-in-law is, don't you?"
I had a sturdy shield at my back: Al Capone, the boss of the Chicago Outfit who ruled the nights of Chicago.
If they wanted to try something funny, I was more than ready to return the favor.
"...I suppose you're right. I was worrying for nothing. It seems you’ve already made your preparations, Mr. Lee."
"Living a life on a tightrope forces you to prepare for this and that. Those fellows over there are part of that preparation."
I gestured toward Jack and Accardo, who were resting on the sofa across the room.
Unless I stepped outside of Chicago, there was no reason to be afraid, even if someone pointed a gun at my face—not when the police, the mayor, and everyone else were on our side.
"Come to think of it, what did you do with that man? Surely you didn't......."
...Mr. Kim, what on earth are you imagining?
"I didn't do anything strange. The Pinkerton boys have to play by the law, after all. I heard they handed him over to the BOI along with the evidence."
"Hmm, so the ball is in the federal court now?"
"It’s a matter that would normally become a diplomatic issue. Though, I doubt President Hoover wants to take on trade risks when the economy is in such a bad state."
With the economy not just failing to improve but actively worsening, if he were to pointlessly antagonize Japan—one of the major trading partners—and cause trouble, his already plummeting approval ratings would be smashed into oblivion.
"That would be the case. It’s a pity; I was hoping we could use America’s strength to keep Japan in check......."
Hearing my answer, Mr. Kim Gyeong smacked his lips in disappointment.
But I wasn't finished yet.
"However, that’s only Hoover’s perspective, isn't it?"
"...What do you mean by that?"
"It means the thoughts of the citizens of the United States might be different."
As he looked at me with a puzzled expression, I held up a thick envelope.
"These are the pieces of evidence I received from the Pinkertons."
"Evidence? Didn't you just say the BOI took the evidence?"
"I added a little extra cash, and they were kind enough to make copies for me. They handed over the photos, that strange notebook, and even a forged passport, didn't they?"
As expected, money is king in America.
"It’s more than enough material for the American citizens to accept the truth."
"...Then, do you intend to hand this over to the press?"
"Yes."
A Japanese spy caught in the U.S. is more than enough material for a front-page scoop.
I guarantee that the moment I show this, reporters from all across America will swarm to Chicago to get the scoop even a second faster.
However.
"It’s dangerous."
Contrary to my expectations, Mr. Kim Gyeong shook his head upon hearing my plan.
"You are a businessman. If you make one wrong move, not only your business but your life could be in danger. Even if they are across the Pacific, they are a nation-state."
"I didn't expect to hear that from you, sir, considering you are helping the independence movement."
"You have to be alive to achieve independence. That goes double for a businessman running a large enterprise like you, Mr. Lee."
Perhaps genuinely worried, he grabbed my hand firmly.
"You might not feel it now, but you have become a beacon of hope for the Korean people. What would happen if something bad were to befall you? You are still young, Mr. Lee. Think long-term."
Hmm, is it really to that extent?
I had felt firsthand that Sulfadine was getting a good reaction in the U.S., but I couldn't possibly know the atmosphere among the Koreans across the Pacific.
If Mr. Kim Gyeong’s words were true, there was a high possibility that my compatriots in Joseon were watching me closely.
Well, even so.
"It’s fine."
There was no reason to stop this interesting endeavor for that reason.
"...Are you really sure?"
"Watching a fire and watching a fight are the most entertaining things in the world, aren't they? The people of Joseon should get to enjoy that entertainment for a change."
And if that fire happens to be burning down the house of their sworn enemy, it’s twice as entertaining.
I immediately passed the copied evidence and the information about the existence of the Japanese spy apprehended by the BOI to the major media outlets in New York and Chicago, anonymously.
And, a few days later, the spark I had thrown into the dry straw—the hearts of the citizens exhausted by the Great Depression—began to burn fiercely without any need for further intervention.
[The Empire's Black Hand Targets the Saint of Chicago! - Japan's Ugly Conspiracy to Covet the Miracle of the 1-Dollar Drug!]
[Tokyo Wants Sulfadine - The Full Story of the Japanese Spy Monitoring Chicago]
The narrative that monkeys across the Pacific were trying to steal the achievements of the United States was enough to send the unemployed masses of the Great Depression to the front of consulates in every city.
"Consigliere, the situation in front of the Japanese Consulate is chaotic."
"Is that so?"
"The enraged people of Chicago have swarmed there, and they’re all throwing those precious eggs at the building! I heard on the radio that similar things are happening in LA and New York."
"Well, they must be rotten eggs. Surely they wouldn't be throwing edible eggs in these times."
The consulate building must be filled with the stench of rotten eggs, but that’s none of my business.
I shrugged at Accardo’s report and moved on to the main topic.
"How is the work on purchasing land in Nevada coming along?"
"As you instructed, we are first buying up the Senior Water Rights in the area. Most of the land in Nevada is owned by the federal government anyway."
Nevada is mostly desert, and water is precious there.
Even if you bought the land, if you couldn't secure the water to bring to it, you’d just be a person who spent money on a useless desert.
Therefore, the work of buying up those water rights—rights held by farmers who had settled in this land of death since the 19th century—had to be prioritized.
"What about the Nevada state government?"
"I heard that discussions about legalizing gambling were brought up in the state legislature for the first time recently."
"Then we just need to give it a little push. If possible, a scenario where the state of Nevada purchases the land from the federal government would be ideal."
"For now, we are in contact with local politicians who are willing to talk."
"Then, I’ll look into the D.C. side myself."
Regardless, just by securing the most important resource—water—half the business is already a success.
The rest is just a matter of slowly extending our reach, bit by bit.
As for the federal government, if it comes to it, I’ll just borrow the hand of Mr. Roosevelt once he becomes president.
Or I have friends like Luciano in New York, after all.
Las Vegas.
I was thinking about the plans to build the city that would shine the brightest on the desert when—
Ring-ring-!
"Just a moment."
I stood up from the sofa, headed to my desk, and picked up the loudly ringing phone.
"What is it?"
Soon, my secretary’s voice came through.
-A guest has arrived to see you, sir.
"A guest? I don't recall making any appointments. Who is it?"
My secretary usually handled peddlers well enough.
-They said they are a Professor Taka.
"Professor... Taka?"
Who... is that?
The only 'Taka' I know is the nail gun used in construction.
But at the secretary’s next words, I immediately realized the identity of the visitor.
-They say they are a university professor from Japan. What should I do?
"Hmm."
It seems what was bound to come has finally arrived.
In that case.
"Show them in."
I should welcome the guest.
Even if they aren't exactly a guest I invited.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Lee. I am Takahashi Satokata, a professor at Tokyo Imperial University. You may call me Taka for short."
Taka? Kata?
Anyway, the Japanese man in a suit and glasses with that kind of name introduced himself and offered a gentle smile.
"Nice to meet you, Professor."
"I have heard much of your reputation, Mr. Lee. They call you the Saint of the 1-Dollar Drug, do they not? As a fellow Japanese, it is truly a moving achievement......."
What is this guy saying right now?
"I am a citizen of the United States by law. My bloodline is that of the Joseon people."
"Haha, but do the two peoples not live under the same fence now? And I hear many stories about how we are historically the same people."
"I don't have the time to sit through a history lecture. Please state your business."
I don't even use the raw materials coming in from Japan via dumping because they feel sketchy; why would I bother listening to the nonsense of a Japanese person?
I’m not even sure if he’s actually a professor.
"...Since you are busy, I will be brief."
Perhaps a bit stung by my response, the self-proclaimed Professor Taka continued with a slightly stiff expression.
"I will speak directly. I believe that the colored peoples—the Asians of the East, and the Black peoples of Africa and the Middle East—must join forces to stand against those powerful white men."
That... sounds like something I’ve heard somewhere before.
Ugh, my head.......
"And so?"
"And I believe that the leaders of this new alliance should be excellent and benevolent leaders like yourself, Mr. Lee."
...Me?
Why?
"I trust you share that cause, Mr. Lee. Discrimination against colored people is a daily occurrence even here in America, is it not? I am seeking out prominent figures like yourself to offer my help in creating a world where such discrimination no longer exists."
"I don't think I have any need for your help, Professor. I’m not very fond of history."
"That may be so. But the people behind me are different."
No, I told you I’m not buying it.
"Money, power, influence... please name whatever you desire. We have the ability to provide whatever you want, Mr. Lee. If you would only lend a little strength to our cause."
"I see."
Anyone listening would think they were going to make me the President of the United States.
I’m getting a bit tired of listening to this bullshit.
"I am a businessman. My job is to sell things and make a profit if the price is right."
"If you require financial support, it is possible this very moment. With just a single word from you, Mr. Lee."
I should get rid of him.
"In my opinion, I might be able to consider it for about 100 million dollars."
In all conscience, shouldn't they at least offer me more than what I already have?