Chapter 51: That Time I Paved a Highway in South America

TL: Skye

Three days after the resident registration program wrapped up. I stared at the report in my hands, doubting my own eyes.

"The population… did somebody photocopy it?"

Before the registration program kicked off, the registered population had been somewhere around 6.5 million.

Once the program finished, I'd figured we'd tack on maybe 500,000 to a million more…

[Total Population: 9,242,105]

The final tally blew past anything I'd imagined.

"9.2 million… where the hell did the extra 2.7 million people come from?"

Even accounting for rural citizens being enthusiastic about registering, the number made no sense.

"More than half of the rural population hadn't been registered."

"And that's supposed to account for a million, right?"

"Unregistered persons practicing slash-and-burn farming up in the mountains came flooding down."

"No, come on."

Why are there so many bush-dwellers out there.

"How many of them?"

"More than 1.7 million."

"Does that even make sense?"

"What happened was…"

Isabella's explanation went like this.

During the colonial era, San Marcos's economic model was built on extreme labor-intensive industries: massive plantation farms and mining operations.

With imperialism in full swing, nobody was paying anything like decent wages, and the indigenous people of San Marcos fled into the mountains and jungles and settled there.

Now, generations later, thanks to a birth rate that blew past the official 4.0 figure and hit a staggering 5.3, their numbers had exploded.

We're talking exploded to the point of shifting the country's demographic composition.

Thanks to centuries of colonial rule by the Spanish-Portuguese Iberian powers, the vast majority of San Marcos's citizens were mestizos, a mixed bloodline of European whites and indios. But the rural population had largely preserved pure indio ancestry.

In some regions, they'd even developed their own dialects.

"…so why the hell did so many of them come pouring out?"

"They had little interest in education, so the boarding schools didn't draw them out."

"And?"

"The moment we rolled out the land lease policy, they came pouring down. I'm told even the ones hiding deep in the Central Mountains came down, every last one of them."

"Huh."

What blew me away even more was the demographic composition.

Average age, 24.4. Youth demographic, 65%.

A population structure so perfect the aging-crisis-stricken developed nations would be drooling over it.

The problem was.

"…this looks like a disaster, actually."

San Marcos wasn't built to support a population of that size.

Rural population, 2.7 million. Subtract the elderly and children, you get 1.75 million.

I'd originally planned the land lease policy around some 600,000 people, and suddenly we had 1.15 million extra bodies to account for.

"What if we just postpone the land lease program? Clearing the land gradually and distributing it piece by piece would be the most realistic approach, I think."

"No, we can't do that. They registered because they were promised a land lease. If we tell them it'll take years, they'll head right back into the mountains. That's a given."

Once distrust of the government takes root, the cost of dragging them back down later would only balloon.

"When opportunity knocks, you grab it by the throat."

"But it's physically impossible, Your Excellency. Just clearing the farmland alone will take five years… unless you're thinking of handing over the land and making them clear it themselves?"

"No. Do that and they'll just go right back to their old way of hiding out."

What idiot would volunteer for that kind of misery.

'I sure as hell wouldn't.'

In the end, I decided to play the card I'd been holding in reserve.

"Let's give them jobs."

"Jobs… you mean?"

A fresh, able-bodied labor force of 1.75 million. And every last one of them a newly-minted taxpayer.

"They need to make money before we can tax them, don't they."

"True enough, but there are no such jobs available. The farms are saturated, and the oil refineries and chemical industry are only just now being built…"

"If they don't exist, we make them."

I smacked my palm against the map of San Marcos hanging on the wall.

"Let's carve some roads."

"Excuse me? Roads?"

"Highways. We're going to lay down a main artery running from the east of San Marcos all the way to the western edge, connecting every strategic point in between."

"H-highways, you mean?"

"That's right."

Isabella looked uneasy.

"But Your Excellency, the total number of registered vehicles in this country is a mere 50,000. And most of those are in Libertad. Paving highways when there are no cars to drive on them could turn into a budgetary black hole."

"You've got the order backwards."

I shook my head firmly.

"It's not that there are no roads because there are no cars. There are no cars because there are no roads."

"…?"

Isabella's eyes went wide at this miracle of logic.

"Shipping ten tons of coffee beans from a plantation to Libertad Port costs roughly 1,000 dollars. And the time it takes, transporting 500 kilometers takes two days, three at worst. Every bit of that cost is eating away at national competitiveness."

"But other countries bear transportation costs as well."

"Not on this scale. Take my home country, Korea. Transporting a ten-ton load 400 kilometers costs around 300 dollars. And six hours is plenty of time."

"……"

"Without roads, resources can't move. Without resources circulating, incomes stay low."

I traced a line between the major hubs on the map with my finger.

"Build highways on a massive scale, and you create jobs in the process. Citizens earn money, and naturally they'll buy cars. Once logistics open up, factories start running. And more than anything…"

I thought of Seoul, back in Korea.

"Roads are essential for balanced national development. I'm not about to sit here and watch Libertad balloon into the only place that matters."

"Hmm… you do have a point, Your Excellency. We build the highways to create jobs, and we finish clearing the farmland during that same window."

"Either way, road construction and land clearing use similar equipment. If we run them in parallel, we save on costs too."

Isabella nodded.

"Since this is a specialized field, we'll need to find a trustworthy partner."

"No need to look."

I grinned.

"I already know the best expert in the field."

Time to summon the living incarnation of the highway himself.

***

That night.

"Hey, Minsik?"

[What's up, Your Excellency! I was literally about to call you!]

"……"

Is this guy nuts?

"Cut the crap, how've you been lately?"

[Me? Thanks to you, I got promoted, eating well, living well. But the news about you has been absolute chaos. Heard you struck an oil well and had a summit with Drump?]

"Just flailing around trying to make a living, you know how it is."

Hearing my friend's voice after so long, I felt the tension bleed out of my shoulders.

[By the way, Director Isabella… has she got herself a boyfriend yet?]

"Keep talking nonsense and I'm hanging up."

[Don't work her too hard. I might just file a labor complaint on her behalf.]

"I'm the Acting President, you realize?"

[Oh, right… forgot about that.]

We traded a few more jabs before I got to the real topic.

"So how's the Chairman doing these days? I haven't heard from him in a while."

The line went quiet for a moment after my question.

[Ah, that… honestly, his health's been a bit rough.]

"His health?"

[Yeah. Well, he is getting up there in years. He's been losing energy lately, in and out of the hospital more often. Barely comes into the office either.]

"Ah."

Fair enough. The man was past eighty. Him still being active in the field was the miracle; being sick at his age was nothing unusual.

'So that's why he went quiet.'

I clicked my tongue with a bitter aftertaste.

"Nothing too serious, I hope?"

[Thankfully nothing major. Doctor says it's just natural aging.]

"I see… alright. Tell him I was asking after him. And that I'll reach out once he's back on his feet."

[Sure thing, I'll pass it along. Oh, by the way, what was this about?]

"Nothing much. Just wanted to pick his brain about highways."

[Highways?]

"Yeah. Thinking about laying down some highways here in San Marcos. But with the Chairman unwell, I shouldn't be bothering him. Just watch for a good moment and hook me up with someone on the working level."

[Got it. I'll ask my uncle, he handles the construction side.]

After the call ended, something in my chest still sat uneasy.

His politics might be a bit off, but the man was practically a benefactor to San Marcos.

"Can't exactly pop over for a hospital visit either… I'll send him some red ginseng later, at least."

With that thought, I went to bed…

Two days later.

"Hah hah, I hope you've been well, Your Excellency."

"Wait, I heard you were sick…?"

Chairman Jeong showed up looking suspiciously intact.

And he hadn't come alone.

He'd brought along an old man of roughly the same age who radiated an unmistakable air of gravitas.

If Chairman Jeong came across as a dirt-caked field commander, this one struck me as a cold-blooded strategist who'd seen every kind of war there is.

"How are you feeling?"

"Right as rain. Heard you needed me, so I yanked out the IV and came running."

As I stepped up to shake his hand, Chairman Jeong clicked his tongue and introduced his companion.

"This one, tsk. Heard the rumor about you building highways and wouldn't stop pestering me until I brought him along."

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Yang Jeongmo, International Steel."

"…!"

The instant I heard the name, I doubted my ears.

"My god…!"

My jaw wouldn't close.

And for good reason. The man was a living legend of Korean business.

Back in the day, his conglomerate had been torn apart by the military regime, but when the civilian government took over, he'd risen from nothing with his bare hands and built one of Korea's premier steel companies. A genuine self-made titan.

His "people-first" management philosophy was famous enough that his name came up on every list of great global executives ever compiled.

"I, it's an honor to meet you, sir. Choi Yu-jin."

"Hah hah, I've heard a great deal about you."

The moment we finished exchanging greetings, Chairman Jeong cut in with a flat voice.

"Ahem, no need to get too starry-eyed, Your Excellency. This fellow only came here to peddle his rebar for the highway construction. Treat him like any other door-to-door salesman."

"You really do have a talent for cheap talk, don't you. I pity the employees forced to follow a man like that. Wouldn't you agree, Your Excellency?"

"What?!"

Chairman Yang adjusted his glasses and delivered the reply with perfect poise. Then he turned to me with a gentle smile.

"At International, we can supply the rebar for the highway at ten percent below international market prices. Top-tier quality, I assure you."

"You can afford to give us that big of a discount?"

At my surprise, Chairman Jeong let out a scoffing laugh.

"Hah! Don't fall for it. That's stock he was going to deliver to the Chinese government, the contract fell through, and now he's trying to offload the dead inventory. He's already collected the penalty payment, so even a ten percent discount still leaves him with fat margins."

I looked at Chairman Yang after this revelation, but he nodded along without a trace of embarrassment.

"That's correct. The provincial government in China that placed the order paid the penalty and terminated the contract."

"There, see! Told you I was right!"

"But the point is, we're willing to supply goods at ten percent below market price when we could simply hold out for the full value. A win-win transaction. This is the true beauty of management."

At Chairman Yang's leisurely smile, Chairman Jeong's face went red and purple in alternating waves.

"Well, of course. What would a man who spent his whole life licking the boots of power know about rational management."

"Wh… what was that? Licking boots?"

Chairman Jeong hauled himself up out of his chair, leaning on his cane.

"Hey! You done running your mouth? You think there'd be a modern Korea without that era?"

"Let's speak honestly. The Korea of today was built on the blood and sweat of its citizens. You just sucked on that blood like a leech."

"What? Sucked the blood? You, you! Damn commie!"

"What? Commie? When you've got nothing left to say, out comes the commie line! Says the man who was the military regime's errand boy!"

"You really can't keep a civil tongue with your senior!"

"Act like a senior if you want to be treated like one!"

It came to the point where the two old men grabbed each other by the collars.

"Let go of me! Today I'm going to beat some manners into this punk!"

"Come on then! Do it, I dare you!"

"Urrgh! Die!"

"Ack! This old bastard, seriously!"

In the middle of the Presidential Office, two of the chairmen who ran the entire Republic of Korea started tangling and rolling around on the floor.

Chairman Jeong's cane whirled through the air, Chairman Yang's toupee went flying, a full-on dogfight between two grand masters.

I just stared, slack-jawed, at the spectacle.

"Seriously."

Why the hell are they throwing a fit in my office.