Chapter 35 : That Time I Endured the Arduous March in South America (2)

TL: Skye

A month had already passed since the Arduous March was declared.

They say humans are creatures of adaptation.

At first, everyone had been solely focused on saving money, but they had adapted to the environment so thoroughly that they had evolved beyond it.

They had gone past mere saving and started bringing in money.

"Ministry of Foreign Affairs, reporting in."

In the dim meeting room, beneath candlelight, Senior Secretary for Foreign Affairs Sophia opened her mouth with a triumphant air.

"The Ministry of Foreign Affairs formed a Translation Task Force and secured outsourced work from an American publisher. As a result, we generated approximately $13,500 in supplementary income last month alone."

"...Good work."

At that, Senior Secretary for Housing and Land Yanko raised his hand as if he refused to be outdone.

"The Ministry of Housing and Land put idle land to use! We reclaimed neglected state-owned land on the outskirts of the city and leased it to farmers at affordable rates, depositing $32,000 into the national treasury!"

"Oh, is that so? Securing budget by leasing out neglected state-owned land, that's excellent policy work. But how did you manage the reclamation?"

"After work hours, I dragged out every civil servant in the Ministry of Housing and Land and handed them shovels and pickaxes. Of course, I did it right alongside them."

"No, I didn't mean for you to go that far..."

An absurd level of execution. But the real king of this meeting was someone else entirely.

"SIA, reporting in."

It was Lucio.

Thud.

The black sports bag he had been carrying hit the floor with a heavy sound.

"This month as well, we invited retired seniors in for candid conversations and received voluntary donations. The total amount we collected comes to..."

Lucio unzipped the sports bag and revealed its contents.

"$5.5 million in total."

"......"

Silence filled the meeting room.

In truth, I already knew because Isabella had told me.

They were digging into the asset histories of former officials, dragging in anyone found to have acquired wealth through corruption, and extracting semi-coerced donations from them.

It was illegal, and normally I should have put a stop to it, but the moment I saw those bundles of dollars, I found myself nodding without realizing it.

'Well... it's a donation, after all.'

And the money really was going to be spent on good causes.

In the end, all I could do was give him a pat on the shoulder.

"...Lucio."

"Yes, Your Excellency."

"Good work."

"I will continue to do my very best."

Lucio's eyes blazed with fire.

***

Isabella, who had been assisting Yu-jin as he spearheaded the Arduous March, had recently been deeply moved.

It was because Yu-jin, who had declared the austerity measures, was practicing frugality ahead of anyone else.

Admittedly, on paper, that was nothing surprising.

He was the one who said they should cut back, so it was only natural for him to practice what he preached.

But what head of state anywhere in the world would actually do that?

Just look at President Maduro in neighboring Venezuela.

His own mismanagement had driven the country to the brink of bankruptcy, yet he continued to fly around in his private jet and maintain luxury villas everywhere, living a life of obscene extravagance.

But the leader of San Marcos was different.

He said that since he gave the order, he should lead by example, and he cut back on himself first.

He replaced the hometown food he loved so dearly with meager tortillas, and when he tried to go out on inspections by bicycle to save on fuel costs, the Chief of Presidential Security had to plead with him that his bodyguards might drop dead before he finally agreed to take a car.

And that was hardly all.

Claiming he needed to save on food expenses, he cultivated a vegetable garden in a corner of the Presidential Palace grounds with head chef Paulo, and to cut electricity costs, he unplugged the air conditioner.

He was the very picture of a penny-pincher.

On top of all that, he had readily handed over his entire fortune of one million dollars, telling them to use it for school operating expenses.

He did emphasize about eleven times that it was a loan, not a donation, but Isabella never believed that for a second.

There was no way a leader like Yu-jin would begrudge a million dollars for the sake of his nation!

'Who would believe a leader like this actually exists?'

Isabella, who had personally received that money at the time, felt a sting in her nose whenever she thought back to that moment.

'That's right. My choice to push that man into the presidency was the right one. He is the man who will become San Marcos's true sun.'

Late into the night, as she assisted Yu-jin in the presidential office, she made up her mind.

'I need to let the people know about this.'

It was too precious to keep to herself. No, it would be a sin to keep it hidden. She wanted every citizen to know that their leader was sacrificing himself to the bone for their sake.

"Your Excellency."

Isabella called out in a resolute voice.

"Hm? What is it? Did another expense come up? I don't have any money left, you know?"

Yu-jin, who had been looking over documents, flinched and turned around.

"I have a proposal."

"Go ahead."

"I think we should film a documentary about Your Excellency."

"A documen... tary? About me?"

Isabella's eyes flashed.

"I believe the people must know of Your Excellency's noble sacrifice."

"Noble? What's noble about it... Can't we just not do this?"

"No. They absolutely must be told."

Yu-jin grimaced and waved his hands dismissively, but.

"I did dabble in acting once upon a time, but it's been ages since I quit..."

"It won't be difficult. Just act the way you normally do. I'll write the lines for you, so you can even read them like you're reading from a textbook."

"No, what I mean is..."

"Your Excellency. The people are going hungry. The only one who can give them hope is you."

When Isabella gazed at him with those glistening, pleading eyes, Yu-jin had no grounds left to refuse.

"...Fine. If it gives the people hope, I suppose I can dust off the old skills. Sure."

And so, a few days later, Yu-jin's documentary aired on San Marcos's sole state-run channel.

*

[Special Feature : 24 Hours at the Presidential Palace]

A majestic yet lyrical melody played as the screen brightened.

Deep into the night in San Marcos. The city slept, but the windows of the Presidential Palace on the hill glowed like a lonely lighthouse.

[Narration : It is 2 a.m., the hour when all are asleep. Yet the lights in the Presidential Palace remain on.]

The camera passed through a dark corridor and entered the office.

To save on electricity, the chandelier on the ceiling was turned off, and only a single worn desk lamp cast its precarious light.

Beneath the narrow circle of light, the back of a man wrestling with a mountain of documents came into view.

It was Yu-jin.

[Narration : The day of His Excellency, who worries over San Marcos's tomorrow, is not yet over.]

On screen, Yu-jin pressed hard against the bridge of his nose as if exhausted, then let out a sigh and reached for the plate beside him.

On the plate sat nothing more than a shriveled piece of bread and a glass of lukewarm water.

[Narration : His late-night meal is not merely modest, it is pitiful. After the chef has gone home, staving off his hunger with leftover bread is his daily routine.]

Yu-jin soaked the rock-hard bread thoroughly in the water. Then he put it in his mouth and chewed with great effort. The camera zoomed in on him thumping his chest as if the food were stuck in his throat.

The camera cautiously approached him.

"Your Excellency, you can't keep working eating only this. You need to think about your health."

Yu-jin looked up from his documents, noticed Isabella, and waved his hands sheepishly.

"What.are.you.saying.I.should.be.grateful.for.even.this.when.the.people.are.going.hungry.how.could.I.stuff.myself.with.a.feast.and.not.choke.on.it?"

"Still, with the weight of state affairs on your shoulders..."

"If.my.going.hungry.means.the.people.can.live.better.then.even.this.crust.of.bread.tastes.as.sweet.as.cake.to.me."

The next scene was the following morning.

The camera doggedly tracked Yu-jin putting on his shoes to go out on a field inspection.

[Narration : His Excellency insists on wearing shoes with their heels completely worn down. His reason is that he would rather save even the single dollar it would cost to replace them and put one more pencil in a child's hand.]

The screen returned to the office. The scorching midday sun beat down, yet the air conditioner was off.

Yu-jin sat working in a shirt soaked through with sweat, relying on nothing but a single rattling fan.

Even as he continuously wiped away sweat with a handkerchief, his eyes never left the documents awaiting his approval.

[Narration : Today, too, he presses silently onward toward his goal of giving his people a better life.]

Finally, the camera captured Yu-jin's silhouette from behind as he stood by the window, gazing out over the panorama of San Marcos.

A lonely yet resolute back. Over it, a gentle piano melody accompanied the closing words.

[Narration : He leads a poor nation, yet his heart is richer than anyone's. His Excellency is dreaming of a miracle for San Marcos.]

A final subtitle noting that Yu-jin had donated his entire fortune of one million dollars toward school operating expenses appeared, and the documentary came to an end.

The moment the broadcast ended, all of San Marcos was awash in tears.

"Sob, sob... Oh my God... And we didn't even know!"

At a restaurant in the Libertad marketplace, the merchants who had been watching the TV wiped their tears with dish rags and wept.

"His Excellency, a man as great as heaven itself, surviving on mere scraps of bread? How is that possible?"

"Good Lord, he distributes food at half price and yet he himself has been eating like that? I never could have imagined."

The citizens were swept up in a wave of shock, emotion, and guilt.

Public sentiment spread like wildfire that they could not simply sit idle while their leader endured such bone-grinding agony to save the country.

And the next day, an unprecedented spectacle unfolded in front of the Presidential Palace.

"Out of the way! These are eggs our hen laid this morning. Please make sure they reach His Excellency."

"This is money I saved up over a whole year! Please tell them to use it for the country's finances!"

"These are new shoes I made myself! I didn't know his size so I made several pairs. Please, deliver them to him."

Food, daily necessities, and crumpled bills that the citizens had pooled together began piling up like a mountain.

It was a sight that resembled fanatics offering their possessions to a god.

As the massive crowds surged in, the Presidential Palace security guards scrambled to control the scene.

And at that very moment.

Yu-jin, having just watched the documentary he had appeared in...

"My, my retirement fund..."

...confirmed that his entire fortune had been forcibly donated and collapsed to the floor.

*****

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