The Future President Has Arrived
"They've passed through the main gate, sir. But Henry, you really do hold that actor-turned-politician in high regard, don't you?"
At Bart's question, Henry answered with a faint, enigmatic smile.
"Bart, sometimes a single flash of intuition proves more accurate than a mountain of complex analysis. My gut tells me that man will soon become the master of Washington. Behind that smile of his lingers the sweet nostalgia of the American Dream, the kind that can drive crowds wild. People are tired of tedious policy clashes. What they want now is a powerful icon, and Reagan is the only one who can perform that role to perfection. Well then, let's get ready to receive our guest. The future president is at the door."
"The 'future president' who hasn't even announced his candidacy yet? Understood. Haha."
Bart let out a half-skeptical laugh. Henry settled into a chair near the table at the center of the great hall on the first floor of the mansion, waiting for his guest with refined composure. The original plan had been to rent out an entire upscale Manhattan restaurant, but Henry had raised the stakes for the man who would truly become president. He had invited him straight into the heart of the Debenzer family, a place not easily opened to outsiders.
A man who's going to be president any day now obviously deserves the special treatment.
Of course, Bart seemed to dismiss Henry's conviction as nothing more than the young patriarch's joke. While they waited, their conversation revealed that Bart was a Democrat through and through, steeped in New York sensibilities. According to him, the previous patriarch had also leaned heavily toward the Democratic side.
The family rule about not supporting any particular party kept them from openly endorsing anyone, but they were basically shy Democrats.
The original owner of this body before Henry's possession had been utterly apathetic toward politics, and Henry's previous life as a Korean salaryman had only brought gratitude that Election Day was a holiday. Strangely enough, however, the Korean man from the modern era knew far more about American politics of this period than he did about the Korean political scene at the same time.
That's because this is exactly when all those novel protagonists start carving up China. It's the golden age when the country was both modernizing and at its most vulnerable.
Whether he wanted it or not, the knowledge he'd unintentionally absorbed from devouring countless genre novels unfolded in Henry's mind like a precise map of political dynamics.
"The governor has arrived."
At the servant's announcement, the massive oak door swung open and a man entered, his eyes far more vibrant and alive than they ever appeared on television. Ronald Reagan. True to his Hollywood roots, the man in his late sixties wore a perfectly tailored suit and a disarming smile.
"My goodness. This is truly magnificent. Is the figure in that portrait hanging in your living room the same man I saw in my history textbooks? I can almost hear the sound of the pen signing the Declaration of Independence echoing through this room."
Ronald Reagan approached with a lighthearted quip as he gazed at the portrait of the family founder on the wall. His genuine admiration for the ceiling frescoes and every artwork around him was impossible to hide.
"Haha, thank you. I've seen you many times, but this is our first meeting, Mr. Reagan. Hello. I'm Henry Debenzer."
"Hahaha. A pleasure, Mr. Debenzer. What an impressive mansion and what a tall, handsome young man you are."
Henry extended his hand first for a firm handshake, then gestured for his guest to sit as he continued.
"It's all thanks to the long history accumulated here. And the pen you mentioned is kept in the study safe. If you'd like, I'll show it to you after dinner. Please, have a seat."
"Oh, excellent. I'd love to see it. Thank you for the invitation."
Ronald Reagan sat down and casually unbuttoned his jacket. Every movement carried that characteristic ease that won over the public.
"Sitting in a place with such deep roots makes me feel as if I've stepped into the very heart of America. Henry, the air in Washington these days is far too cold and dry. The politicians there are obsessed with immediate numbers rather than the nation's foundations."
Ronald Reagan looked at Henry with a gentle smile. It was classic political rhetoric, the technique of flattering the other party's pride to ensure they never become an enemy.
As expected, that acting background doesn't fade. He delivers his lines so naturally. But I was a K-corporate drone in my past life. I skip past this kind of superficial small talk immediately.
However, such tactics didn't work on Henry.
"One of those politicians is sitting right in front of me today. Haha, just kidding. You don't need to bother with empty pleasantries. You didn't come all this way simply to eat in an old-fashioned mansion, did you?"
Henry's direct approach made Bart, who was standing nearby, twitch an eyebrow. Ronald Reagan also chuckled as if caught off guard by the sudden shift, his fingers toying with the prepared teacup.
"Haha, the young Mr. Debenzer has quite the straightforward personality. Very well. If you'll excuse my bluntness, let me ask directly. Why is a family known as New York's reclusive noble house suddenly making such big moves? And why now, of all times, with the election right around the corner?"
"Hmm, it's not really for political purposes. Our family simply needed the right people, and I wanted to step forward myself instead of relying solely on the family name. Besides, our family rules clearly state that we 'do not support any particular party.'"
Henry paused for a moment, then added a pointed remark while fiddling with his cup.
"However, I'd like to add one thing today. While we don't support parties, we do invest in people."
Ronald Reagan's eyes narrowed. A declaration of investing in individuals rather than parties. It was the most arrogant yet radical proposal a traditional aristocratic family could make.
"Invest in people... Does that mean I am included among those investment targets?"
Reagan set down his teacup as he asked. The relaxed humor had vanished from his voice. He no longer looked like a genial politician but like a businessman standing before a major investor.
Henry leaned back in his chair and replied casually.
"Governor, the Republican establishment currently dismisses you as 'an extreme conservative who can't attract moderates.' On top of that, elites like George Bush view your Hollywood career with a mocking eye."
Reagan's brow twitched slightly. It was a direct hit.
These elites and their holier-than-thou attitude never change. But the public can't stand those condescending pricks the most.
Henry drove the point home.
"However, Governor, the public is sick of bureaucrats who lecture them while acting like they're so smart. Skyrocketing interest rates, rising unemployment, endless lines at gas stations. These are the results those brilliant politicians have produced. Do you know what kind of role you need to play for those people?"
Henry paused and set down his teacup. Reagan's gaze naturally settled on Henry's lips.
"The protagonist who will 'Make America Great Again.' Right now, countless voters are longing for that powerful past. I believe you can turn that nostalgia into reality."
I'm just giving the original restaurant its original recipe. After all, this man is the one who introduced this catchphrase to the world.
Instead of answering, Reagan stared at Henry as if lost in deep thought. He had realized that this young patriarch wasn't simply discussing politics but was evaluating his 'star quality' and 'potential.'
Henry spoke again.
"Governor, what is your dream?"
"My dream, huh... Well. Would it sound too cliché if I said it's about restoring pride to this crumbling nation?"
"Not at all. If those words are sincere, I think it's truly wonderful. I've been thinking a lot about dreams myself lately."
The servants arrived in a line at the perfect moment, setting down the food and briefly interrupting the conversation. Henry gestured toward the dishes as he spoke.
"I hope this doesn't feel like an uncomfortable occasion. Please, enjoy. This is our chef's signature steak and American apple brandy from our own distillery. I hope it suits your taste."
"Just the aroma tells me it's going to be delicious. Haha, uncomfortable? On the contrary, I was simply surprised to discover that the young patriarch of the Debenzer family possesses such profound insight."
The dinner proceeded in a warm and friendly atmosphere. Especially after tasting the apple brandy Henry presented, Nostalgia 30, Reagan's expression completely changed. The way he praised it with such enthusiasm didn't seem like acting; it looked like genuine appreciation. As the drinks flowed, Ronald Reagan's tongue loosened.
He began delivering a full speech about how he would change the country if he became president of the United States. Henry listened attentively and chimed in at the right moments, which helped the table's atmosphere grow even more cordial. Among the conversation were some of the key promises that would later define his era.
"Taxes are far too high right now. When they're this high, businesses focus only on watching their backs instead of investing. This current economic recession was ultimately caused by these outrageous taxes. High taxes lead to rampant tax evasion, businesses hoard their money, the nation's finances weaken, and citizens' wallets grow thinner. It's a vicious cycle."
"Yes, that's a very reasonable perspective."
Well, historically it did increase tax revenue and raise incomes, so it's not wrong. It'll get shredded later for causing wealth polarization, but that's not what matters to this man right now, is it?
Reagan seemed quite taken with this young patriarch who kept nodding at his economic philosophy. He lightly swirled his empty brandy glass, his face flushed as he looked at Henry.
"That's exactly what I'm saying, Henry! But those smart-aleck friends in Washington won't even listen to me. They just think I'm some actor who memorizes scripts and recites them!"
Henry smiled silently and refilled Reagan's glass with brandy. The cheerful sound of the golden liquid filling the glass was the only thing that broke the silence at the table.
"Governor, I asked you earlier what your dream was. And the answers you've just given me are more than enough to confirm my investment."
Reagan paused with the glass halfway to his lips and looked at Henry. In a tone both firm and calm, Henry continued.
"I will invest in you. I don't expect any repayment or grand favors in return. I simply hope that when you reach that high position and even after you complete your term, we can share pleasant meals like this. All I ask is that you remember the goodwill I've extended today with fondness."
Both doubt and astonishment flashed across Reagan's eyes. He had met countless sponsors, but this was the first time he'd received an offer as intimidating and overwhelming as 'I expect no repayment.'
"I believe that sincerity of yours will reach the American people. So please don't lose that heart. That pure will to create a strong America. That is the only dividend our family desires."
Reagan remained speechless for a long time. For a moment, he even had the illusion that the young man before him and the figures in the distant Declaration of Independence portrait were faintly overlapping.
Henry Debenzer had simply declared that he believed in him, but that casual trust struck deeper into his heart than a hundred political speeches.
"Henry... to meet a friend like you at last. You really are a remarkable young man."
Reagan extended his hand with sincere admiration. Henry took it and smiled lightly.
"Now that dinner is over, I should show you what I promised. That historic pen that signed the Declaration of Independence. See for yourself how similar it is to the one you'll use for your first signature in the White House someday."
The two men moved to the exhibition hall in the grand study. Reagan looked at the venerable pen behind the glass case with childlike excitement, while Henry watched his back and leisurely savored a future that was already set in stone. Before leaving the mansion, Reagan, who had clearly taken a genuine liking to the apple brandy, subtly asked for a bottle. He carried it with lighter steps than ever as he got into his car.