Chapter 121
The Collapse of Tokyo (1)
“K, Kahahahaha!!”
Just as expected.
Applications are pouring in endlessly from across Korea and Japan.
Not long ago, most of the people who wanted to meet me simply wished to see my face. Now, however, high-ranking officials line up one after another, hoping to secure study-abroad opportunities in the United States.
“General Kin! My son, you see—”
“My nephew is exceptionally bright—”
“These young men are the finest talents in our prefecture. They are more than capable of carrying the Empire on their shoulders, so I would be most grateful if you could lend your support.”
Of course, of course. America isn’t called America for nothing—the land of freedom and opportunity.
Many of them are from wealthy families, so they could likely go to the United States on their own. Still, any parent would want to send their child off with strong backing already secured.
Even if the number of Japanese elites educated in America increases, it won’t change the overall trend.
Would Japan’s brightest minds, having left that suffocating island nation and experienced the vast continent, really return to a homeland driven mad by fascist frenzy and adapt without issue? They’d be lucky if they weren’t killed by their own countrymen.
As for Koreans, there’s no need to even say it.
Aside from those prepared to dedicate themselves entirely to the independence of their homeland, how many would willingly return to a Korea driven into madness under Japanese rule? Even if they did, I’d be the one clinging to their pant legs, begging them to wait just a little longer.
And after liberation?
Assuming independence comes in 1945—that’s about 22 years. A young man who crossed the Pacific at twenty would be forty-four by then.
Those who return to their newly reborn homeland would either be burning with patriotism or simply fed up with America. Just look at Yun Chi-ho—he became embittered by relentless racial discrimination.
Right now, I am a farmer cultivating talent.
And when it comes to education, since there is a limit to how many people can be supplied with opportunities, the answer is simple: bring in as many as possible.
Out of 17 million Koreans, fewer than 2,000 are studying in Japan—the only real path to higher education. If I can bring even 1,000 people over the course of ten years, that would already be a massive success.
In this age of madness, how many of them will truly become the foundation of a future Republic of Korea twenty years from now?
Some may die abroad. Some may settle permanently in the United States. Others may fall under the sway of radical ideologies. Considering the long span of time, the only answer is to bring in as many as possible.
If they return home, all the better. If they settle in America, the influence of Asians grows stronger. Either way, it’s a winning hand.
Given the situation, I even considered expanding the education fund further. Including Chinese candidates would greatly increase its potential.
It’s impossible to predict how the Chinese Civil War will unfold, but if Mao Zedong wins as in the original timeline, persuading people to go to Korea instead of Taiwan might be surprisingly effective.
Meanwhile, the naval treaty was successfully concluded.
I faithfully fulfilled my role as a messenger. The Japanese Navy got to keep the battleship Mutsu as they wished, and a clause prohibiting further fortification across the Asia-Pacific region was added as well.
Of course, in exchange for allowing Japan to retain Mutsu, Britain and the United States were also permitted to build two additional battleships each… but for now, that wasn’t a problem at all.
Because the future war envisioned by Japan’s leadership was not “a mad Japan versus an Anglo-American alliance,” but rather:
“An Anglo-Japanese alliance against the United States.”
‘While the British Empire engages the United States in the Atlantic, our Empire—armed with Nagato and Mutsu—along with the British Far Eastern Fleet, will confront the American Asiatic Fleet!’
‘In that case, we can surely secure victory in the Pacific theater.’
‘It will take the United States several years to launch 16-inch gun battleships capable of countering Mutsu. We could maintain superiority in the Pacific for up to ten years.’
Yes. Japan had, in its own way, negotiated well in this treaty.
The tragedy was that the leadership signing it could not even imagine that their own country would later lose all sense and charge forward like a rabid dog.
After that, I spent my days leisurely, fully immersed in the “harvest season” of gathering talent in Japan, and thus bid farewell to 1922.
Of course, I alone was at ease. The global instability that began in 1922 did not subside even as the new year of 1923 arrived.
The interwar period.
A time of “temporary peace”? I’d like to punch whoever coined that phrase square in the gut. What part of this looks like peace? It’s more like fireworks next to a gas station.
Even atop the corpse of the fallen Ottoman Empire, cannons were still roaring.
The Turkish independence forces, led by Mustafa Kemal—who would later become the founding father of Turkey—defeated the Greek army with Soviet support and seized the initiative. In response, a coup erupted in Greece, and the king was overthrown.
If that were all, it might have remained a distant foreign headline.
But in this age of madness, such hopes are futile.
—If the Turkish army demands more, British forces will intervene.
Naturally, global tensions surged.
“A prime minister should act like one—how can he talk about war so recklessly?!”
“Hold an election! Let’s see if the people really want another war!!”
British Prime Minister David Lloyd George, who had unilaterally hinted at intervention, ultimately lost power over this crisis. Yet the mere fact that talk of war had resurfaced less than three years after the end of the Great War was enough to fill the world with shock and dread.
France, nearly dragged into war without understanding why, was horrified. Even the Dominion of Canada declared, “Even if you play with fire, we won’t be joining you this time,” and began strengthening its independence.
And was everything else calm? Of course not.
Germany’s newly established Weimar Republic saw its economy collapse under hyperinflation, and to make matters worse, France occupied the Ruhr region by force, claiming unpaid reparations. Britain or France—it’s all the same. Truly moving.
The Soviet army finally entered Vladivostok, and the Japanese forces, who had recklessly pushed into Siberia, fled—retaining only Sakhalin.
It was an age of excitement: the discovery of Tutankhamun’s tomb, the election of the first female U.S. senator, and the launch of radio broadcasting by the BBC.
Yet behind it all, the Polish president was assassinated just five days after taking office, Lithuania annexed the Memel region, and conflicts between colonizers and the colonized raged across the globe, fueling growing rage against this wretched world.
The era still thirsted for blood.
As if twenty million deaths in World War I were not enough, the spirit of the age demanded even greater sacrifice.
Even for me, living a second life, this era was unbearably heavy.
***
August 31, 1923, Tokyo.
“You have worked incredibly hard all this time.”
“General Kin, on behalf of the Empire, I once again extend my deepest gratitude!”
“Oh, come now. It’s not as though I did much. It was simply a rational business decision made by Ford.”
“But white men are rarely rational when it comes to matters involving people of color. This is all thanks to your efforts, General Kin. Thank you!”
At last, the long negotiations had come to an end.
The Ford inspection team had surveyed not only Japan but even as far north as Pyongyang and Uiju. In the end, “after considering various circumstances,” they decided to build the factory in Tokyo.
Of course, those “circumstances” naturally included Japan’s relentless lobbying and persuasion.
From Ford’s perspective, building on the continent would have been far better for selling tractors in China, but various political considerations made that difficult.
“Now then! Today is a glorious day marking the strengthening of U.S.-Japan cooperation! Let us drink!”
“Waaaaah!!”
Lively music filled the air.
Fine-tasting alcohol.
And women, too. No—actually, skip the women. Don’t come near me. I don’t want to get shot the moment I return home!
“So, will you be returning to America now?”
“Since all the major matters are settled, I’ll have to wait for my next assignment.”
“That’s quite unfortunate. Before you leave, would you be so kind as to visit my home?”
The man chattering beside me was Colonel Terauchi Hisaichi, Chief of Staff of the Imperial Guard Division.
If the surname sounds familiar, it should. He was the eldest son of Terauchi Masatake, the key figure behind Korea’s annexation and its first Governor-General.
“My father also wished to meet you before he passed. If you would visit, it would be the honor of a lifetime.”
“Haha, an honor? Not at all. You should become a war hero of the Empire and visit America someday, like Admiral Tōgō.”
“Aren’t you praising me too much?”
“I may be an outsider, but I’ve heard that you govern your subordinates with virtue, earning the admiration even of common soldiers. There may be many capable commanders in the Japanese Army, but only your name is spoken as one of true virtue—surely that is the mark of a hero.”
“Kuhahaha! To receive such recognition from you, General Kin, is deeply moving!”
Right… so can we just leave it at flattery?
If I start stepping over the threshold of the Terauchi household, I might actually get shot.
Still laughing loudly, Terauchi suddenly turned serious and leaned in close to my ear.
“There are rumors that those ‘seal bastards’ have been slandering you shamelessly lately. Be careful.”
“Well, I suppose that’s only natural for them. That’s why they’re seals.”
“They are ignorant fools who know nothing of diplomacy. Now that Britain’s protection is gone, their fear has only grown. But rest assured—the Army, the pillar of the Empire, fully supports you.”
One of the consequences of the Washington Naval Treaty:
The termination of the Anglo-Japanese Alliance.
The Army was surprisingly composed about it, but the Navy reacted as if struck by lightning from a clear sky—perfectly demonstrating the five stages of grief.
“Britain abandoned the Empire? Impossible! The Anglo-Japanese Alliance is eternal!”
Denial.
“The damn Anglo-Americans are all the same! Only the Imperial Navy can protect the seas of Asia!”
Anger.
“What are those fools in the Foreign Ministry doing? Hurry—push them! Even if it’s not an alliance, secure something equivalent, quickly!”
Bargaining.
“If Britain is gone, where will we obtain advanced technology? What will happen to the Empire ten years from now, just as we are rising?”
Depression.
“What can we do… it’s already over. Let us think about the future.”
Acceptance.
And among those who hadn’t yet reached acceptance—those still consumed by anger—some had chosen me as their target.
“He came as a spy from the beginning! He’s here to stab the Empire in the back!!”
“A Korean is still a Korean. He must be plotting the Empire’s downfall!”
Wow, they hit the nail on the head. How did they figure it out?!
But they got one thing wrong. I don’t stab people in the back like a coward. I face them head-on and put a bullet in their gut like a proper adult.
We drank heavily through the night.
And the next day.
September 1st.
“Wa… water…”
“You really should’ve taken it easy.”
“You… look at your own face first.”
Hajji and I both looked like walking corpses from hangovers.
After quickly washing up, I flipped through my notebook and checked the schedule one last time.
“Head to the hotel, pick up the Ford people, sign the papers, take photos—that’s it.”
“And after that?”
“Nothing. We’ve pretty much wrapped up everything related to armored tactics too. Maybe I’ll travel like Ambassador Warren. Want to come?”
“Won’t you call your family?”
“Alice must be pretty grown by now… but can she handle a ship?”
“Kids actually adapt faster.”
Really? If traveling by ship is fine, bringing the family over wouldn’t be a bad idea.
After living abroad for years, I miss them. Damn it… I really do.
Going to Korea might be difficult, but China could work. Visiting Shanghai might be a good choice.
After putting on our neatly pressed uniforms, we headed straight to the hotel.
“Long time no see, Yujin!”
“Oh my, look who’s here.”
“You’re a cold man. I crossed the Pacific myself, and you didn’t even come to greet me.”
“And who was it that told me not to come because of work?”
“I didn’t think you’d actually listen.”
Edsel Ford joked as he climbed into the car.
“By the way, are we really just signing papers and leaving?”
“Not quite. I’m planning to test the Chinese market. If demand for the Model T is as high as they say, we might consider relocating the factory.”
“Hmmm.”
Even in 2020, people said China had as many millionaires as Korea had people. It wouldn’t be any different in 1923. Surely that vast continent wasn’t lacking in wealthy buyers.
As we discussed the future of Ford’s business in Asia—
RUMBLE!!
“W-What was that?!”
“Another earthquake?!”
“This one—it’s big!”
RUMBLE—!!
The world began to shake violently.