The God of Normalization (2)
The Normalization of Wages
Naturally, pulling off something like that required permission.
After adjourning the meeting on the grounds that everyone should go away and think it over at least once, I knocked on the brigade commander's office door.
"Do what, now?"
"Normalization."
"Normalization?"
Zhang Zuolin shrugged his shoulders up in a way that made it clear he hadn't the faintest idea what I meant.
"Colonel. How much fighting power do you estimate our brigade actually has at this moment?"
"Six thousand, doesn't it? So six thousand."
"The way I see it, the men who'd count as actual soldiers number about six hundred, all told."
"Is that so? Then tell me why you think that."
"Men who can't hit a target even firing from a standing position — do you seriously believe they'd be worth a damn if they were dropped onto a real battlefield?"
"Hm."
He lit his long-stemmed pipe, brooded over something for a good while, and finally opened his mouth.
"So what's your plan?"
"At the very least, one battalion under direct brigade command needs to be honed into an elite force on the level of the great powers' armies."
"An army that can stand toe-to-toe with the great powers. You think that's possible, here in Manchuria?"
"Yes."
He stared straight into my eyes.
I didn't look away. There was no reason to flinch.
"······."
"······."
"Well, well. Someone's full of confidence."
Zhang Zuolin let out a snort of laughter and leaned back deep into his chair.
"So you think you can pull off what the high officials in Beijing have failed at for the past seventy years. Fine, why not! Even if it all goes to hell, things can hardly get any worse than they are now. So what do you need from me?"
"Whatever I do — can I trust that you'll believe in me through it?"
I asked in my strictest, most solemn, soldier-to-the-bone voice.
Zhang Zuolin just stared at me for a moment.
"You brat."
"Yes, Colonel?"
"Knock off the 'Colonel' crap. Get over here."
"Yes, sir."
The moment I stepped close, he flung an arm around my neck and hauled me in.
Ugh. Reeks of tobacco.
"You, damn it."
"Yes?"
"You've been strange lately, you know that?"
"Me? Surely you're mistaken about something, sir?"
"You think just because your brain's grown a size, this Zuolin can't see right through you?"
Rather than waiting for an answer, he pressed on.
"You walk around with your face set like some demon or rakshasa's possessed you. Anyone who saw you would think your parents had died, you brat."
"······."
"Got shot down by a girl, is that it?"
"No."
"See? I keep telling you — having a decent face and actually stealing a woman's heart are two different things."
"I'm telling you, that's not it!"
He snickered, gave a grin that was honestly a little unsettling, and withdrew the arm from around my neck.
When Zhang Zuolin's hand rummaged beneath the desk where he'd been conducting his official business, it came back up holding a bottle of liquor.
"Get a cup."
"...Sir, I'm still on duty."
"Are you? Then it's an order. Take the cup."
With a long glug-glug-glug, the clear baijiu filled the cup to the brim.
The surface of the liquor was clear enough to reflect my own face back at me.
As I stared at it in silence, Zhang Zuolin spoke first.
"Someone close to you?"
"...Not exactly."
"Then someone worth looking up to."
"······."
When I lifted my gaze from the cup, our eyes met.
"Did that person leave behind a cause?"
"He did."
"Worth staking your life on?"
"Yes."
He nodded as if he understood, then quietly raised his cup.
"A man, at times, ought to stake his life on his convictions. That's only right. But that doesn't mean treating life as cheap."
"Yes, sir."
"But hear me on this — don't die."
The cups clinked, and two shots of harsh baijiu slid down each of our throats.
"One more thing. Dying before you've even shed that bachelor's seal of yours would be a crying shame."
"Ugh, come on. Is it truly beyond you not to ruin a solemn moment?"
"Why would I, when it's this much fun?"
After teasing me a few more times, Zhang Zuolin drained another cup and opened his mouth again.
"Let me ask you just one more thing."
"Yes, yes, ask away."
He stroked down his beard and shook loose the drops of liquor clinging to its tips. A low voice rolled out of him.
"So — that new sky you spoke of before. When do you figure it'll finally rise?"
Truly. This man is uncanny in every possible way.
I set down my emptied cup, thought for a moment, and began.
"By my reckoning — minimum one year, maximum three."
"Why?"
"Empress Dowager Cixi died and everyone assumed something would finally change, but a full year on, nothing has. If anything, it's getting worse."
"Hm."
Empress Dowager Cixi.
The notorious villainess who had devoured an entire continent was dead.
Ah, now things would get livable. Now things would finally improve.
But contrary to all that hope, nothing had changed. The taxes that squeezed throats remained exactly as they were, the quality of life was a sewer, and the opium dens smoking away in every alley were hell itself.
For the people living in that hell, all that remained to them now was their lives.
With that as collateral, what reason was there not to overturn the world?
"Which is why, as I said earlier, we have to build our strength now. We need to be able to snap the necks of any bastard who comes along — that's how we stay standing when the age of chaos arrives."
"Heh heh heh."
He broke into a wide grin that showed every tooth.
"Fuck it! Good. Go do it however the hell pleases you. If anyone objects, drop the name Zuolin!"
That was the plan all along.
Now, no one can stop me.
In rough modern terms, think of it as the Republic of Korea Army's regulations handbook. It set out how the ranks were organized, how the units were structured, and — most importantly of all — how much the monthly pay came to.
And according to this handbook, a New Army soldier received four taels of silver a month — in other words, six silver coins.
How much was that worth, you ask?
It was a monstrous income — roughly on par with what an ordinary farmer or laborer earned over an entire year.
No wonder Xu Shichang threw around five thousand taels of silver so freely.
In the New Army, that much was barely enough to cover the upkeep of a single regiment.
Of course, these regulations carried no force north of Shanhaiguan.
That doesn't mean the rules didn't exist — it means there were far too many people helping themselves along the way.
Frankly, I had my doubts about whether they were even observed in Beijing. Well — if a man valued his own hide, he'd follow them there, wouldn't he?
At any rate, the wages departing Beijing took one hefty bite from our superiors at the Fengtian Local Division headquarters before trickling down to our own Local Brigade headquarters.
And the brigade headquarters took a scoop out of each regiment's share.
The regiment took a spoonful from what was meant for the battalions.
The battalion skimmed the companies' share.
The companies skimmed the platoons'.
Officers skimmed the NCOs. NCOs skimmed the soldiers. The soldiers skimmed the new recruits.
A scene of top-down squeezing that would put the fabled Class-of-'38 army to shame.
To be precise, it was less hazing than a top-down pocket-lining pyramid scheme.
Unforgivable.
As a certified graduate of the Advanced Barracks re-education program and a former sparrow myself, it was absolutely, categorically unforgivable.
The day after my "Declaration of Normalization," I convened another meeting.
"Yesterday, near the end, I spoke about the soldiers' pay. Does everyone remember?"
"Yes."
"Today I'll be laying out the details."
I looked out over the faces blinking nervously at me and spoke.
"Henceforth, in this 1st Battalion, every form of embezzlement is strictly prohibited."
Astonishment. Shock. Silence.
In an instant, the entire room froze solid.
Hm. Judging by the atmosphere, you'd think I'd just proposed outright treason.
Manchuria, truly. Every single day is a fresh education.
"I'll take questions. If anything is unclear, raise your hand."
One NCO timidly lifted his.
"What is it you're wondering?"
"Um, Major. If you do that, there's going to be considerable discontent, just as the others have worried."
"Really? Are they sore about it?"
"Ah, no. It's not exactly that they're sore—"
"Good. Then let me say this in advance."
I drew my pistol from its holster and laid it on the table.
When I saw a few of them flinch and tremble without quite meaning to, I recognized them — the men who had fought alongside me back in the suppression of the Jeonokbon bandits.
"If you're sore about it, you're welcome to leave."
"...Pardon?"
"If you're sore, leave."
"······."
"Crawl off to another battalion, slink over to the 2nd or 3rd Regiment — I don't care where. I have no use for soulless bastards like that in my unit."
Some at my words looked pleased, some looked horrified, and the rest took it every which way in between.
I turned to the officer who looked the most sour-faced of the lot.
"Lieutenant Wang."
"Y-yes, Major!"
"What I've said is simply the truth, isn't it?"
"It is, indeed, the truth."
"Good."
I swiveled my head toward Du Lisan, who had been sitting quietly.
"Second Lieutenant Du."
"Yes, Major!"
"If anyone, despite being given the chance, refuses to transfer out and stands against my orders — settle it, Manchurian style."
"Manchurian style, sir?"
"That's right. Beat the living hell out of them."
"That'll be easier than eating cold porridge, sir."
"Good."
What?
Too harsh, you say?
Here in Manchuria, if you try to settle anything with words alone, all you earn is laughter.
Beat them first, wring the tears out of them, then pour them a shot of sorghum liquor and say "let's do better from here on" — far more efficient.
"And there's one more thing I'm introducing, related to the pay."
"What would that be, sir?"
At the words that followed, their eyes went perfectly round.
"What's that thing say?"
"I can't read."
"Hey — doesn't the kid from the squad next door know some letters?"
"Oh, here he comes now."
The soldiers of the 1st Battalion, 1st Regiment scratched their noses as they squinted at the proclamation titled Code of Barracks Conduct and sounded it out, haltingly, through the literate soldier's lips.
Article One. All embezzlement, breach of trust, and extortion within the unit is hereby prohibited without exception.
"Well, yeah. That's fair enough, I suppose."
"...It says you get flogged if you're caught?"
"The hell?"
"Come to think of it, Second Lieutenant Ma and Second Lieutenant Du were setting up something like a torture rack waaaay out on the parade ground this morning."
"...Shit. Seriously?"
The soldier reading the proclamation aloud on behalf of the illiterate cleared his throat with a loud ahem, and continued down the page.
Article Two. The soldier's wages, heretofore improperly withheld, shall be paid in full and in accordance with regulation, beginning this very month.
"Wa...ges? What's that? Feels like I've heard the word somewhere..."
"So it wasn't just about skimming whatever we liked off the loot?"
Article Three. Henceforth, all officers and soldiers shall strive to cultivate physical robustness and intellectual ability together — cultivation? cultivate — both at once.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Letters? Are they going to teach us to read??!"
A cascade of pronouncements that demolished every scrap of common sense they'd ever been given.
"Could it actually be true?"
"Well, I mean, Lee Tae-oh's never talked big before, has he?"
"C'mon, even so. That's a bridge too far. It's nothing but absurd nonsense."
The soldiers gathered in twos and threes, whispering among themselves.
Most of them wore the same look — like that could ever happen.
But then, the next day.
"Did everyone sleep well?"
""Yes, sirrr!"
Lee Tae-oh had assembled the entire battalion on the parade ground, and now stood atop a high platform where every man could see him.
"Is there anyone here who hasn't seen the notice I posted yesterday?"
"······."
"Well, it is the talk of the town, after all. Hard to keep your mouths shut, I'd imagine?"
When the soldiers hummed out a low "Yeees," it rang across the whole parade ground.
Lee Tae-oh nodded as if he understood perfectly, took his place at the center of the platform, and spoke once more.
"Let me make this absolutely clear. There is not one word of falsehood in yesterday's notice. Your wages will be paid on the first day of every month — and accordingly, every act of embezzlement within this unit will henceforth be punished to the fullest extent of military law."
"······."
"You all look like you don't believe a word of it. Ma Jeom-san?"
At Lee Tae-oh's glance, Ma Jeom-san and several others climbed the platform hauling chests in their arms.
They set the chests down and opened the lids —
"Madness."
"In a world like this, that's all silver?!"
"Silver coins."
In an instant, the parade ground erupted into a roiling murmur.
"QUIET! Can you not be QUIET!!?"
The officers and NCOs tried to settle the buzzing soldiers, but when the noise refused to die down, Lee Tae-oh quietly drew his pistol and leveled it at the sky.
BANG—!
"······."
"Good. Now we have some peace and quiet."
He slid the pistol back into its holster and opened his mouth again.
"The pay each of you will receive is six silver coins per man! But I have a proposal to make to you all!"
"What is it!?"
"Ah. It is called the Military Savings Plan."
"Savings? What's that?"
"Ah. You don't know, I see. Well then — everything you don't know, I shall teach you myself."
For a man holding the future as a cheat, cutting the money flowing out and swelling the money flowing in was laughably easy.