Chapter 80

Killing Pigeons (2)

1919

As the long, exhausting war came to an end and leading politicians gathered in Paris to establish a new year, a new world, and a new order—

President Woodrow Wilson’s declaration of “self-determination of nations” emerged as a ray of hope, like a lamp in the dark, for countless weak nations suffering under colonial rule.

“The President of the United States has promised!”

“All nations have the right not to be interfered with by others!”

Of course, great figures like Vladimir Lenin had spoken of self-determination before.

But when the leader of the victorious nation proclaimed it so openly, it was only natural to hope that this time, something would truly change.

Even Koreans suffering under the oppression of the Japanese Empire thought the same.

Even those who knew all too well how merciless reality could be.

***

February 1919, Washington, D.C..

Bang!!

“What do you mean by that? You can’t issue a visa?”

“I’m sorry, but it has become difficult.”

“Do you even know who I am? I’ve known President Wilson since the days he was called ‘Professor’!”

“I am aware. This has been approved by the White House.”

Thud.

The moment the word White House came out of the man’s mouth, he felt his last hope extinguish.

Syngman Rhee felt all the blood drain from his body as he collapsed into the chair.

“That can’t be. That can’t be! I’m Rhee Seungman, Rhee Seungman! Prince Rhee!”

“I’m sorry.”

“You know how well I understand the interests of the United States! I will never, ever cause trouble. So please, once more, to His Excellency the President—”

“That is not possible.”

“…Very well. I’ll look into it myself.”

“Take care.”

Visa denied.

When he first heard that Ahn Changho had failed to obtain a visa, he had brushed it off.

But why him?

In truth, he already knew the answer—but the faint hope that perhaps Wilson wouldn’t treat him so coldly was completely crushed.

“Heh… heh heh. Damn it. Right. Joseon is just loose change. Of course it is. Heh heh!!”

He knew.

He knew very well that Joseon held little importance in U.S. foreign policy.

But he never expected to be denied even the chance to leave the country.

“Give up. I thought you were a realist, but I was mistaken.”

The words of Philip Jaisohn echoed in his ears, making his irritation surge even more. Had he fallen so low as to hear such words from someone who had abandoned even his nationality?

“Just wait. I will surely— Hey, coachman!”

He needed to change his strategy.

With the chances of going to Paris dim, he had to try everything he could.

For example… that “League of Nations.”

If complete independence for Joseon was impossible, then at least, as a second-best option, wouldn’t it be better to save it from Japan’s madness and tyranny?

Just as he was about to get into the carriage—

“Are you Mr. Rhee Seungman?”

“That’s right. And you are?”

“Then die!”

Bang!

“A-agh!”

“A gun! He fired a gun!!”

The man who had tried to fire several more shots at the comically fallen Rhee fled into an alley when the gun failed to fire properly.

In that split second—

Though his whole body was scraped and aching from the fall, unable to rise properly, Rhee felt something like a revelation.

“The gun misfired… Indeed, the Lord does not yet wish for my death.”

His heart pounded as if it would burst, his body still unresponsive—but at least he had escaped death.

Lying awkwardly on the pavement, he turned his head slightly, and a scrap of newspaper scattered on the street caught his eye more than ever before.

[General Kim displays the might of the United States to the Siamese!]

“…It can’t be helped.”

He had to admit what needed admitting.

***

Who was it that said once you earn a star, you have to start playing politics?

Once you become a general, your job is to show your face at all kinds of events.

Ceremonial duties.

When I was a company commander, my job was sweeping, cleaning, sewing, and tending flower beds with the men. But now that I’ve got a star and started attending these things, I get it.

This is insanely exhausting.

I know full well that my subordinates suffer because of me, but still—I have to go. Now I understand why there’s a deputy division commander. A grateful existence who runs around handling these exhausting external events instead of me.

Normally, I’d be itching to dump this on Omar, but this case was a bit different.

“General Kim, could you spare some time to review our unit?”

“May I ask for what purpose?”

“Aren’t you the only hero who rose to fame among white men? Your name resounds even in Siam.”

…Why, exactly?

The only thing I know about Siam—Thailand—is tom yum soup. What an absurdly fascinating world.

In the end, the expeditionary command accepted the Thai army’s request and specifically designated me. I had to cross mountains and rivers to visit a German-occupied zone where Thai forces were stationed and carry out a ceremonial event.

Still, I could more or less understand it.

“Waaaaah!”

“Yujin Kim! Yujin Kim!!”

“Do you see how delighted the soldiers are? Thank you very much for coming.”

To think I’ve become that legendary “soldiers’ idol.” Ridiculous.

Thailand had somehow managed to preserve its sovereignty—but that was about it. Essentially, a lucky Joseon.

They avoided colonization by presenting themselves as a buffer state among great powers, but in return, they had to give up vast territories. And from what I could tell, their internal situation wasn’t exactly stable either.

In such a situation, an Asian figure gaining international fame appears like a comet—no need to think twice. Of course they’d want to use me for propaganda. Whether I was Yujin Kim or Abdullah or Wang, they would’ve used me all the same.

I was already overwhelmed just dealing with affairs in the Far East, so I didn’t bother digging deeper. As long as my visit benefits both sides, there’s no reason to refuse. Though it’d be nice if I got something out of it too.

If only that had been the end of it.

But once news spread locally that I had come to Germany, people started showing up just to see this so-called famous “yellow monkey.”

“So you’re Yujin Kim? Quite young— I mean, youthful.”

“I’ve only achieved some minor merits thanks to recognition from the United States.”

Only after handling this round of public appearances could I finally return to my beloved barracks.

Just as I was about to enter the unit’s station, the guard hesitantly approached me.

“Excuse me.”

“What is it? Speak freely.”

“A civilian has come requesting to see you, General. We were about to turn them away due to your absence, but you’ve just returned, so…”

“Hah. Why are there so many people everywhere who want to see my face?”

This is exhausting!

Seriously exhausting! Try driving from Germany to here along 1910s roads in a 1910s vehicle!

But even while complaining, the job still gets done—that’s the virtue of a Korean.

Even in The Sims, a Korean only feels satisfied if their character goes to work the same day. I can’t just turn them away.

“I’ll explain the situation personally and ask them to make a proper appointment next time. Where is the visitor?”

“This way, please.”

Unexpectedly, the person waiting for me was Asian.

One man, appearing to be in his late 30s or early 40s—clearly Korean or Chinese at a glance—and another about my age, seemingly Southeast Asian.

“Excuse me. You came to see me?”

“Are you General Kim Yujin…?”

Korean.

It had been far too long since I’d heard it.

Before I could even respond, the older man suddenly grabbed my arm.

“It is truly an honor to meet the hero of the Korean people like this. I have long awaited this moment!”

“So you’re Korean. Nice to meet you. May I ask your name—”

“Ah, my apologies. I became too overwhelmed and acted rudely. My name is Kim Kyu-sik, and I go by the pen name Usa.”

I had suspected it, but I never thought he would come personally.

Then again, if even the Thais were inviting me, maybe this was only natural.

“And the gentleman with you—?”

“This man is from Vietnam. His name is Nguyen Ai Quoc.”

“My name is Nguyen Ai Quoc. I came to meet General Kim, who has shown the strength of Asia.”

I don’t know who he is exactly, but someone accompanying a man like Kim Kyu-sik is hardly ordinary.

In the first place, what reason would a colonial subject have to come all the way to France in times like these? Obviously, it’s because of that damned Paris Peace Conference. And anyone who comes here must be filled with the will for independence.

At least it’s not Ho Chi Minh himself… small mercy, I suppose.

Normally, I should politely dismiss them and ask them to return another time, but no matter how American I may be now, the Confucian inside me refused to throw Kim Kyu-sik out.

In the end, I gave up on resting.

“This place is a bit too noisy for conversation. Please come inside. Driver! We need to take our guests to my quarters!”

“There isn’t enough room for two passengers.”

“……”

“……I’ll get off.”

Sorry. I’ll treat you to something nice later.

Now hurry up and get down.

***

After my orderly served some light refreshments, I immediately kicked him out. I even gave him some green bills to go have fun, so I’ve done my duty.

And then, once again, the praise began.

“Yes, I understand. I merely fulfilled my duties—”

“No! Absolutely not. You say that because you do not realize it, General.”

“Thank you, but it doesn’t seem like you came here just to praise me.”

At that, both of their expressions grew serious.

After a moment of thought, Kim Kyu-sik began to speak.

“General Kim, do you consider yourself Korean, or American?”

“Sir!”

Nguyen Ai Quoc cried out in surprise, but Kim Kyu-sik’s face was set—he was determined to hear the answer.

“I am, of course, a citizen of the United States.”

“!”

“However, I do not deny that my roots lie in Korea. Does that answer your question?”

“American… but with Korean roots… Is that your conclusion, General? Understood.”

What more do you want me to say? Even if you’re disappointed, it can’t be helped. I have my own limits.

“We intend, at the Paris Peace Conference, to expose the horrific colonial rule taking place in Korea and Vietnam, and to appeal for the establishment of independent nations based on the principle of self-determination.”

“……”

“The fact that Koreans—and Asians as a whole—are not inferior savages has already been proven by General Kim Yujin. We believe now is the best possible time to petition the world for independence.”

I knew it.

If I speak gently, I’ll only inflate their expectations unnecessarily.

“I see. Understood.”

“…Is that all?”

“Well, you haven’t actually told me anything specific. Are you seeking advice? Financial support? Or asking me to participate in your petition? None of that has been made clear.”

“Ahem! That’s fair. I understand. Then first, we would like to hear your opinion, General.”

As he nodded, I looked at this great independence activist before me.

A man who turned down a doctoral offer from an American university to walk the thorny path of his country’s independence. Admirable.

But if I want to protect my footing here, I cannot recklessly involve myself with them.

Now is not the time.

“What I’m about to say will likely be very unpleasant—something you won’t want to hear. Is that alright?”

“It’s advice, not an order. We can hear it.”

So if it’s nonsense, you’ll just consider it a waste of time?

Fine. I don’t know how much they’ll accept, but as someone who has lived in the future Republic of Korea, I should at least speak with sincerity.

“The Paris Peace Conference is nothing more than a feast for the victorious nations. You are merely guests who have come to the wrong place.”

“That hurts, right from the start.”

“Does it? I’m just getting started. I was personally ‘requested’ by President Woodrow Wilson of the United States to praise the Japanese Empire and strengthen the friendship between America and Japan.”

“What on earth are you saying?!”

“What else? The true nature of the idealist you’ve placed your hopes in—Woodrow Wilson.”

Both of their faces flushed red.

Sorry—but this is going to hurt quite a bit.

I feel like a dentist breaking bad news.