Chapter 53: That Time I Paved a Highway in South America (3)

TL: Skye

[USD : 23,109,523,900]

Converted to won, a sum approaching 30 trillion.

In the old days, a number like that would've sent me tumbling backward with the report still clutched in my hand. The present-day me didn't even twitch an eyebrow. No, there was no reason to be shocked.

San Marcos was finally in a weight class that could absorb a budget like that.

If anything, the construction cost came in much lower than I'd expected.

"The construction budget appears to have been set quite efficiently."

An east-west expressway cutting straight across San Marcos, a north-south trunk expressway, and the branching arteries that would spread out from both.

Twenty-three billion dollars to build 4,450 kilometers of highway in total, that was practically a steal, wasn't it?

On top of that, this project came with the added condition of developing farmland along the roads.

The reasons it came out this cheap were several, but if I had to pick one...

"Thanks to low labor costs."

"Yes, that does seem to be the case."

Tortilla Farm wages: $400 a month. Tortilla Seafood: $380. Tortilla Energy: $430. Civil servants: $360.

Going by those numbers alone, the average San Marcos worker earned around $400 a month.

But the reality was different.

Those wages were figures the government had artificially inflated. The actual average monthly wage for a San Marcos worker was, in truth, just a hair under $300.

And I'd set the wages for the workers on this project at $300.

'Sorry, but... can't be helped.'

Because the essential value of this highway project lay less in the highway itself and more in its function as an employment stimulus policy.

The total wages those people would collect over the two and a half years of construction added up to $8.4 billion. Half of San Marcos's GDP from three years ago.

Of course, about 10% of what went out in labor costs would come back to the treasury as income tax, but for a country of San Marcos's size, this was still a figure that raised inflation concerns.

"The other line items besides labor also appear to have been kept quite low."

"It was possible because everyone worked as hard as Your Excellency has attended to the matter."

"More than that, it's thanks to your ideas, Chief of Staff."

Isabella gave a modest smile. To trim the construction costs, Isabella and the rest of the Senior Secretariat had been holding meetings through the night.

And of all their ideas, the one with the biggest impact was the self-sufficiency system Isabella had proposed.

"It was an idea anyone could have come up with."

When aggregate was needed, they'd quarry it from the next hill over; when gravel and sand were needed, they'd scoop them straight out of the riverbed.

In most countries, environmental concerns would have killed the idea at the planning stage, but in San Marcos, the developing country among developing countries, talking about environmental preservation was like grasping at clouds.

'Environmentalism is a luxury for people with full bellies and warm backs.'

Right now, people came before nature.

"How does the financing plan look?"

Isabella launched into her explanation with a confident look.

"First, of the $10 billion advance payment, $3 billion will be borrowed from the Korean government as ODA (Official Development Assistance). The interest rate is around 1.5% per annum."

"Hmm."

The warmth of my homeland's decision had me nodding along on autopilot.

That said, Korea wasn't losing out on the deal either.

This highway construction was a project where Korean construction firms would be participating in force.

From the Korean government's standpoint, they had the justification of helping their own companies secure contracts, so they'd approved it without hesitation.

"The remaining $7 billion will be paid using the U.S. treasury bonds we'd purchased in advance."

"And the rest?"

"The remaining $13 billion after the advance will be paid out in five installments, once every six months."

"The funding source will be the crude oil revenue from Drump Field, correct?"

"Yes, that's correct."

"$3 billion every six months... we'll have to tighten our belts for a while."

"Revenue from the nickel mine is already coming in, so I don't believe it'll be a significant strain. If we truly run short, we can always take an interest-free loan from Tortilla Company's retained earnings."

"Hmm."

A flawless financing plan. The feeling of puzzle pieces clicking neatly into place.

"Good. Excellent work."

I closed the report with a satisfied smile.

"Now what's left is... training, I suppose."

Numbers didn't matter if the crowd was a rabble. With 800,000 workers going into this project, they'd have to move in lockstep like an army or there'd be accidents.

Which was why I'd prepared construction training to be run by the Engineer Battalion.

"Field Marshal Pedro is currently in full-scale preparations."

"He'll manage, won't he?"

"Of course. Though it has never participated in a mega-project on the scale of a highway, the San Marcos Engineer Corps has, for all practical purposes, been this country's only construction company."

Isabella nodded, then added,

"In particular, the Engineer Battalion commander overseeing this training is an elite who graduated at the top of his class from Mexico's National Polytechnic, civil engineering department. The Ministry of Construction and Housing civil servants have also completed live-in training to provide support."

"Reassuring."

In this country, credentials like that qualified as the best there was.

"Let's roll it out immediately."

"I'll have the order issued at once."

Isabella left the office.

I looked out the window at the panorama of Libertad.

"Hoo... never a quiet day, huh."

***

Around the time Yu-jin was in discussion with Isabella. Hundreds of kilometers south of Libertad, at an Administrative Branch Office in a rural village, a storm of unreasonable customers was raging.

"What the hell, how did it end up like this!"

Bang!

The one slamming his fist down on the Administrative Branch Office's battered wooden desk was Joseph, a lifelong native of this village.

Skin burnt dark by the sun, thick forearms. The textbook San Marcos farmer who'd spent his whole life digging in the dirt.

"Please calm down, Joseph. Making a scene here isn't going to produce any land..."

"Calm down my ass! You said we'd get land! You said if we put our names on the registry, we'd get land! So why haven't we gotten any!"

And Joseph wasn't the only one. Behind him, dozens of villagers had come pouring in, staging something that wasn't quite a protest but wasn't not a protest either.

"You told us, get this National ID Card thing made and you'll lend us good farming land!"

"It's already been three months! Three months! Forget the land, we haven't seen so much as a handful of dirt!"

The Branch Office civil servants floundered under the enraged crowd's voices. They were, after all, the very people who'd persuaded the villagers to register in exchange for promised land.

In the end, the "complaint squad" (?) led by Joseph started showing up at the Administrative Branch Office every day to raise hell.

They rotated shifts, morning, noon, and night, keeping up the not-quite-protest, and thanks to that, the Branch Office staff were having the time of their lives. In hell.

It was amid the shouting of another routine day that,

Screeeeech...

a truck pulled to a stop in front of the Branch Office.

A moment later, two men in crisp uniforms stepped out and walked over toward the complaint squad.

"...?"

At their arrival, Joseph, mid-rant, froze. And no wonder, the aura coming off these two was nothing like the powerless low-level bureaucrats he was used to seeing.

At a glance, these were clearly higher-ups, so to speak.

Presently, the man who walked up beside Joseph...

"Well, well, Your Excellency's citizens are all gathered in one place. How are you, folks? Ha ha ha."

put on an extremely friendly smile and grabbed the complaint squad's hands, pumping them vigorously up and down.

"Wh, who are you..."

"Ah, my apologies for the late introduction. I'm Jose Dariya, Division Chief of the Road Management Division at the Ministry of Construction and Housing."

He passed out his business cards to the gathered people.

"The reason I've come all the way out here is to deliver a gift to all of you."

"A, a gift? You finally gonna give us the land?"

The man shook his head.

"The land's going to take a bit more time... instead, I've brought something else."

"Something else? What is it?"

"An opportunity."

"Opportunity? What kind of bullshit are you..."

"Hey now! This is not the kind of opportunity that comes around every day."

The civil servant pulled a stiff bundle of papers from inside his coat.

"An opportunity to earn a great deal of money."

At the word "money," every pair of eyes snapped to him.

"Folks, even if you get land, it doesn't become money right away, does it? You have to farm it, harvest it, cart it off to market, and sell it, that's when it becomes money. Am I right?"

"W, well, yeah."

"So what do you do in the meantime? All of you have families to support."

"Well, we'd just scratch by on the land like we're doing now..."

"Tsk tsk. What century is this, for you to be suffering like that? Your Excellency grieves for you."

The ace of the Ministry of Construction and Housing wagged a finger back and forth.

"His Excellency has issued a special directive. That we provide our citizens with jobs."

"Jobs...?"

"Very soon, roads will be built in every corner of the country. Come work on them and you can earn $300 a month."

"...!"

At the sum, larger than expected, everyone's eyes went wide.

And no wonder, out here in the countryside, $300 was a serious fortune.

Unlike the urban laborers of Libertad, these people's annual income didn't even reach $500.

And now they could earn $300 every single month! Enough money to buy 700 kilograms of flour, wasn't it!

"Of course, you can't just jump straight in. To participate in the construction, you'll need to undergo two weeks of state-provided training."

Ah, there it is, murmurs went up from here and there.

"Listen here, Mr. Civil Servant, sounds like you don't really know the situation, but most of us folks here earn one day and eat that same day. If we don't work for two weeks, our families will starve to death on the spot."

"Oh, come now, you think I'd come all the way out here not knowing that?"

The civil servant held up two fingers.

"Just for taking the two weeks of training, we'll pay a stipend of $100. That should be plenty to keep your families fed, wouldn't you say?"

"...!"

For a moment, silence fell inside the Branch Office. Disbelief surfaced in every pair of eyes. The very concept of a training stipend didn't exist in San Marcos.

"Tsk tsk! The devil's gotten into your eyes, I see. You have to trust me. How could I lie with His Excellency's name on the line?"

At the name of His Excellency, the atmosphere loosened a bit. The civil servant drove in the nail with his next words.

"Sign up now and I'll process you on the spot. The sooner you sign up, the sooner you get your training. Which means, naturally, the sooner you can start working. Right?"

"Do you... also provide meals?"

"But of course. Three meals a day, tortillas topped with meat."

"Gasp...!"

In that instant, the scowl on Joseph's face melted away like spring snow.

"Might I..."

He quickly whipped off the straw hat he was wearing, flung it aside, and folded both hands demurely over his belly.

"Humbly... have the honor of signing the paperwork?"