Chapter 106: That Time I Had a Company Dinner in South America.

TL: Skye

The New Industrial Complex on the outskirts of Libertad.

Massive cranes swung into motion, setting the steel frame of the die and mold plant into place, and beside it the foundation concrete for the parts factory was slowly curing.

At the CKD assembly plant site, excavators tore into the ground without a moment's rest.

Thud!

“Careful over there!”

“Focus! Focus!”

The number of technicians dispatched by Tortilla Construction had grown to a hundred, and several hundred local laborers clocked in at the site every morning.

At that hour, with everything running exactly according to plan.

Choi Yu-jin, second President of San Marcos, had been granted a rare day off.

Seven in the morning.

The office of the Presidential Residence.

Yu-jin sat at his desk with a laptop open in front of him.

His expression was grave.

A crease had settled between his brows, and his eyes stayed locked on the screen, refusing to leave it.

His hand worked the mouse in quick, decisive clicks.

Isabella opened the office door, stepped inside, and stopped dead at the sight of him.

‘...Your Excellency?’

Seven in the morning. On a day off.

Up with the sunrise and already seated at his desk.

That extraordinary focus.

That serious expression.

Isabella felt her chest go warm.

‘His Excellency... he tends to the affairs of state even on his day off.’

When the people rest, the president does not.

This was the Sun of San Marcos.

This was what a leader looked like.

Isabella closed the door quietly so as not to disturb him.

But, Isabella had it entirely wrong.

What filled the screen was not a document but a small island nation in the Caribbean.

Palm trees swayed, brightly colored buildings lined the streets, and along the bottom of the screen the treasury balance and approval rating blinked away.

Tropico.

A simulation game in which the player became the dictator of a Latin American banana republic and ran the country.

Yu-jin's reason for buying it had been simple.

It was billed as a nation-management sim, so he figured there might be something in it worth borrowing.

And above all.

‘Can't say no to a sale.’

By the grace of Gabe Newell, serial discount killer, he'd picked it up for twelve thousand won.

But.

“...What the hell is this.”

The longer he played, the deeper the crease between Yu-jin's brows got.

On screen, El Presidente, Yu-jin's avatar, was setting up a slush fund right out of the gate.

No, the game was actively pushing him to set one up.

A mission had popped up instructing him to siphon money out of the national treasury and park it in a Swiss bank account.

“A Swiss bank? A slush fund? Why exactly would I do that?”

Yu-jin muttered to himself.

He ignored the slush fund mission and tried to run the country the normal way.

Invested in infrastructure, built educational facilities, developed industrial complexes.

And ran out of money.

Since he was out of money, an advisor offered some counsel.

Print more currency.

“Print money? And what about inflation?”

Yu-jin ignored the advice and threw himself back into governing.

Investing in education, cultivating the tourism industry, modernizing agriculture.

He gave it an honest effort.

And his approval rating dropped.

When he checked why, it turned out that with the election approaching, the rival candidate's numbers had climbed.

And then.

“Hold on, rig the vote count? Is this thing out of its mind? Huh? And this guy wants me to assassinate him?”

Yu-jin, dumbfounded, clicked Decline.

Three hours of that, and a coup broke out and GAME OVER filled the screen.

Yu-jin's El Presidente was hauled off by generals in uniform, loaded onto a plane, and shipped into exile.

“......”

Yu-jin glared at the screen.

The game had absolutely no sense of realism.

Build a slush fund. Print money when funds run short. Rig the ballot count. And when that isn't enough, assassinate the opposition candidate.

“What am I supposed to be, a dictator...”

And this passes for running a country?

A nation actually governed that way would be finished inside of three years.

Yu-jin knew this.

Seeing as he was actually running one.

“Haah...”

Yu-jin sighed and shut the laptop.

“Can't believe I paid for this trash game... tch.”

He was still shaking his head when a voice came from behind him.

“You've worked hard, Your Excellency.”

It was Isabella.

She was standing there with two cups of coffee; he hadn't heard her come back in.

“An iced americano.”

Isabella set the clear cup down in front of Yu-jin.

Black coffee sloshed over a cup packed to the brim with ice.

Isabella's reaction the first time she encountered this had been decidedly negative.

‘Coffee... cold? With ice in it? Isn't this... a desecration of coffee?’

To a Latin American, coffee was hot and strong.

Espresso, or a cafecito loaded with sugar.

That was coffee.

And now ice?

Isabella had found it revolting at first.

But after watching Yu-jin drink one every single day she tried a sip, then tried a second, and by the third she was making iced americanos herself without even realizing it.

And now the two of them were the sort of pair who drank iced americanos side by side.

“Ah, thank you.”

Isabella asked carefully.

“It must have been quite difficult.”

“Sorry?”

“Earlier you were concentrating intensely. And your expression was very grave.”

“Ah... right. Running a country isn't easy.”

For an instant, the respect in Isabella's eyes deepened.

“Your Excellency carries a heavy burden alone, always. You need to rest on occasion.”

“...?”

“Why not clear your head for a while?”

“My head?”

“Take a walk, perhaps. Or go fishing out on the water...”

“That sounds like a hassle for the security detail.”

When the president went anywhere, security personnel followed him by the dozen.

Burning that kind of manpower on a stroll didn't sit right with him.

“Instead of that, how about a barbecue? It's been a while since we've all eaten together.”

“A barbecue?”

“Sure. Grill some meat, drink some beer. If we do it in the residence garden there's no security burden either.”

Isabella considered it a moment, then nodded.

“That's an excellent idea.”

“Call in every member of the residence staff. The security detail too. Tonight we all eat together.”

*

A short while later.

A long table was set out on the wide lawn of the rear garden of the Presidential Residence.

The charcoal was catching, and beside it trays sat piled high with pork belly and sausages.

Just as Paulo, the chef in charge of the Presidential Palace, reached for the tongs, Yu-jin stopped him.

“Hand me the tongs.”

“...Sir?”

“Tonight I'm the cook.”

Paulo's eyes went wide.

“N-no, Your Excellency! Allow me!”

“You do this every day, Paulo. Take the night off.”

“B-but Your Excellency grilling the meat with his own hands...”

“Nobody in the world grills pork belly better than a Korean.”

Yu-jin took the tongs out of Paulo's grip.

Paulo hovered at his side, unable to stand still.

His Excellency was grilling the meat himself.

Grease could spatter onto His Excellency's hands.

Smoke could soak into His Excellency's shirt.

Paulo's professional pride was screaming, but Yu-jin was already laying beef across the grill with a practiced hand.

Sssssizzle.

The meat crackled over the fire and a rich, savory smell began to spread through the garden.

The residence staff and the bodyguards gathered in, one by one.

At first every last one of them stood stiff as a board.

How was anyone supposed to sit around comfortably while the president worked a grill?

“All of you, sit.”

“......”

“That's an order.”

A minute crawled past like an hour, and then Yu-jin piled the grilled meat onto plates and passed them around.

“Eat up.”

Jose, one of the bodyguards, accepted his plate with a dazed look on his face.

His Excellency.

Had grilled this meat with his own hands.

And handed it to him.

Juan's eyes went red at the rims.

“Your Excellency... thank you...”

“Hey, why are you suddenly crying...”

Yu-jin poured a beer and passed it over.

“Please, just relax and eat.”

The bodyguards and the staff ate their meat and drank their beer, carefully.

Yu-jin went to each of them in turn and clinked glasses.

“Thank you for all your hard work.”

“Your Excellency!”

“Paulo, thank you for cooking for me every day. I enjoy every meal.”

“Y-Your Excellency! Khh, hkk...! This Paulo will devote every ounce of his loyalty to Your Excellency!”

“......”

Paulo wiped his eyes with his apron.

“Director.”

Yu-jin carried a plate over to Isabella.

“Have some. I grilled it myself.”

“...Thank you.”

Isabella took the plate.

Yu-jin cracked open a can of beer, set it down in front of her, and headed back to the grill.

Isabella put a piece of meat in her mouth.

‘...It's good.’

Isabella watched him standing at the grill, squinting against the smoke and smiling all the same.

What a strange man.

The party came to an end as the sun set.

The staff and the bodyguards cleared their places one by one and headed home.

Every last face wore a smile.

Yu-jin stayed until the end, clearing the table.

“Your Excellency, please go inside. I'll handle this.”

Paulo came running over.

“It's fine, let's do it together.”

“Absolutely not!”

Paulo's voice was grim with resolve.

“If I surrender even this to Your Excellency, then I am dead as a chef!”

“......”

Yu-jin took a step back from the sheer force of it.

“Understood. I'll leave it to you, then.”

As Yu-jin turned away, Isabella fell in behind him.

“Where are you going?”

“Thought I'd walk some of that off.”

“Shall we go out to the garden?”

“Sounds good.”

The two of them sat side by side on a bench at one edge of the residence garden.

Yu-jin had brought along the last two cans of beer.

He handed one to Isabella and cracked the other open.

Crack.

A crisp, cool sound.

Yu-jin took a mouthful of beer and lifted his head.

“......”

The city lights of Libertad still weren't as bright as Seoul's, and above them the night sky lay blanketed in stars.

“The stars really are bright.”

At Yu-jin's murmur, Isabella raised her head and looked up at the same sky.

“Back home in Seoul there's no sky like this. Every building has a sign on it, every road has streetlights, and even at night it's bright as day. So you can't see the stars.”

Isabella wore the expression of someone who couldn't picture it.

“A night sky with no stars... that sounds a little sad.”

“It isn't a sad thing.”

Yu-jin laughed softly.

“It just means the city grew bright enough to beat the starlight.”

Yu-jin took another sip of beer and went on.

“Libertad will get there one day too.”

“Bright enough that the stars vanish?”

“Yes. Bright enough that the stars vanish.”

Yu-jin looked out toward the center of Libertad.

In the distance the lights of the buildings showed in scattered points.

Far more of them than when he'd first laid eyes on this city.

But still not enough.

Isabella looked at Yu-jin.

She could see his profile as he gazed at the faint lights of the city.

“I will be a source of strength to Your Excellency as well.”

Yu-jin turned to look at her.

“You already are, more than enough.”

“More.”

Isabella said firmly.

“Until the day this country becomes everything Your Excellency dreams of, I will remain at your side.”

Yu-jin smiled and held out his hand.

“Then I'm counting on you going forward, Director Isabella.”

Isabella took the hand.

A handshake.

Just a handshake.

And yet.

The instant their eyes met, there was a thud, and Isabella's heart skipped a beat.

Something flickered through Isabella's mind.

Starlight.

A smile.

A warm hand.

And in that moment.

Smack-!

Isabella cracked her own cheek with the flat of her hand.

“...!?”

Yu-jin's eyes flew wide in shock.

“Director, what on earth was that for?”

Isabella's face had flushed a deep, burning red.

Red all the way to the tips of her ears.

‘What in the world am I thinking...!’

How dare she.

How dare she covet the Sun of San Marcos.

The president of this nation.

The father of this nation.

The entirety of this nation.

How dare she try to possess him with one woman's feelings.

Such a thing could not be.

Such a thing must never be.

Isabella snatched her hand back and spoke hurriedly.

“A mosquito... there was a mosquito.”

“A mosquito? In autumn?”

“Yes. It was a large mosquito. Very large.”

“Did it really call for hitting yourself that hard? You're going to have a handprint.”

“The mosquitoes of San Marcos are exceedingly vicious, so they must be struck with force.”

“How vicious can a mosquito really be...”

Yu-jin tilted his head, but he didn't press any further.

Isabella tipped back the beer can and drank in long, greedy gulps.

Her face was red because of the beer.

It was the beer.

It's the beer.

While she was busy swearing that to herself, Yu-jin looked up at the sky again.

“The moon's bright too.”

“...Yes. It's bright.”

And so, another peaceful day in San Marcos came and went.

*****

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