Chapter 56 : That Time I Built a Bank in South America.

TL: Skye

Six months after highway construction broke ground. For the first time since becoming Acting President, I was enjoying some genuinely quiet days.

The reason was simple.

'Because there was no money.'

What little tax revenue we collected got dumped almost entirely into the education budget, and every last cent from Drump Field's crude oil sales got sucked straight into highway construction costs.

We were barely keeping the government running on Nickel Mine revenues, and even when that fell short, we plugged the gap by issuing government bonds and having Tortilla Company buy them up, essentially moving cash from one pocket to another.

Given the situation, there naturally wasn't much to do, was there?

Politics boils down to where you collect money from and where you spend it, and we had neither money to collect nor money to spend.

Still, our Senior Secretaries were a fairly competent bunch.

"At the Ministry of Education, we're rolling out a campaign called [Time Is Money]. San Marcos's sense of time is on the relaxed side, and we concluded this kind of education will be essential when we go on to compete with the rest of the world."

"At the Ministry of Natural Resources and Tourism, we've secured the cooperation of the beach merchants' association to host regular performances for tourists. The goal is to maximize the entertainment on offer and boost repeat visits, and the actual results have..."

"The Ministry of Internal Affairs, to preempt any potential violent crime, has partnered with the Ministry of Defense to..."

"The Ministry of Foreign Affairs, with the cooperation of the Korean embassy, has placed Korean-language pamphlets throughout the airport..."

That's how it went: they found things to do that didn't cost money.

Well... every so often.

"Your Excellency! The Ministry of Construction and Housing has overhauled our previously slapdash addressing system. To start, we've christened the grand boulevard running from the Presidential Palace to Libertad Port the Road of Yu-jin!"

"...Please don't do that."

There were some who overdid it, sure.

Anyway, the important thing is this:

'This right here is the sweet life.'

Being idle was pure bliss.

The biggest recent news was, what, the return of the civil servants who'd been sent off to Tortilla Farm and their retake exams?

Oh, there was one event I hadn't seen coming.

"Major General Bruno Alves... I mean, Vice Minister Alves, failed the exam?"

That's right: Bruno Alves, former commander of the 2nd Infantry Division and former First Deputy Chief of the Ministry of Defense, had gone and flunked the civil servant competency exam below the minimum passing threshold.

'Should've cracked a book... tsk.'

Seriously, what century did he think this was, coasting on his title and skipping the studying?

"So, what did he score?"

"Seventeen out of a hundred, which puts him in the bottom three percent. He scored a zero on the National Values and Ethics section in particular."

How someone manages a zero on a four-option multiple-choice test... genuinely tragic.

"Hmm... well, that's unfortunate. His flattery ran a bit thick, but he was an entertaining man."

"Regulations require a six-month redeployment to Tortilla Farm, but... should Your Excellency wish it, we could grant him a special deferment as a remedial measure."

Isabella looked me dead in the eye as she asked.

"No, we can't do that. It won't do to have some go and others stay. I want San Marcos to be a nation that's fair to everyone."

"Understood. All shall be as Your Excellency wishes."

At my answer, the faintest smile flickered at the corner of Isabella's mouth.

Then she stamped Bruno's deployment order without an ounce of mercy.

Farewell, Bruno. I sincerely pray that, in the bosom of nature, you find health of body and mind.

And so, on a Sunday when everyone rests, one afternoon when I was wrapping spicy pork stir-fry into lettuce leaves for lunch.

"Your Excellency, I have an urgent matter to report."

Isabella walked in bearing good news.

"Wmmfwmmzt (What is it)?"

"The Tortilla Energy Refinery Plant and Chemical Industry have been completed."

"Whmm?!"

At the welcome news, I had no choice but to gulp my wrap down.

"Is that really true?! I was told it would be delayed further because of the asphalt feedstock production."

"Hyunhwa mobilized the full force of the group, apparently."

"Now that is something to be grateful for."

"Congratulations, Your Excellency."

"Why should I be the only one getting congratulated? We celebrate together."

The completion of the Refinery Plant and Chemical Industry was no small thing.

It was the signal flare announcing that San Marcos had graduated from a mere crude-producing nation into a true producer-nation.

From here on out, San Marcos could refine its own crude into gasoline and diesel and sell them separately, and on top of that, manufacture a whole range of petroleum products.

It amounted to a clean escape from the resource curse.

"The completion ceremony is scheduled for tomorrow. Would Your Excellency care to deliver a congratulatory address?"

"Of course. Everyone worked hard, the least I can do is say thanks."

"Then I'll contact the broadcaster and arrange a live feed."

"Hmm? The broadcaster, too?"

"Shouldn't the citizens be told of this joyful news? I can think of no more hopeful message than letting them watch their own country develop with their own eyes."

"Very well. Since we're filming, tell them to film it with some style. So the people can see the plant in all its grandeur."

"Yes, I'll see to it."

Watching Isabella walk out of the office, I thought to myself.

'Retirement is getting closer and closer...!'

At this rate, the day I could finally rest wasn't far off.

***

A market alley in the old district of Libertad. At lunchtime, a shabby little diner was packed with people.

Most were merchants and laborers from nearby, customers looking to knock out lunch on the cheap.

"Missus! Chicken tortilla and a beer over here!"

"Two beef tacos over here! Spicy!"

"Yes! Be right with you!"

The owner had no time even to wipe the sweat off her brow as she rolled out dough and fried up meat.

Because a diner that used to have nothing but flies for company was now slammed from open to close.

"I'm here. Oof, busy again today, I see."

"Ugh, you wouldn't believe how many customers there are these days, I'm losing my mind."

"Isn't that a good thing? Means business is booming."

"My body's not gonna hold up. Just you wait till you're my age, buddy, it'll kill you."

"Oh please, the market's own little tycoon, complaining like that. Ah, mind if I turn on the TV?"

"Like that's gonna add anything to the electric bill. Help yourself. The usual?"

"Yes, and throw in a cola today."

When the young customer hit the button on the old TV mounted in one corner of the diner, the national anthem of San Marcos began to play.

"Oh? News time, is it."

Every head in the place turned toward the screen.

[San Marcos Neeewss~]

A moment later, a sharply dressed anchor delivered the news in a slightly excited voice.

[Fellow citizens, we have wonderful news. The Tortilla Energy Refinery Plant and Chemical Industry, which had been under construction in the Northern Industrial Complex, have at last been completed.]

The screen cut to a sweeping view of the refining facility in all its massive grandeur.

Titanic distillation towers piercing the sky, pipelines twisted together in an elaborate web. At the sight of the factory venting white steam day and night, mouths fell open.

"Whoa... that's in our country?"

The diners paused their lunches mid-bite and fixed their eyes on the screen.

[This Refinery Plant is the fifth-largest in the world and can process 700,000 barrels of crude oil per day. That figure is nearly double San Marcos's own daily crude output, meaning we can now bring in crude from neighboring countries, refine it, and export the refined product.]

The anchor's voice rose.

[With this, San Marcos has vaulted beyond a mere crude-oil producer to become a true energy powerhouse, producing refined and petrochemical goods as well.]

[Furthermore, the Chemical Industry, completed at the same time, is set to produce plastics, fertilizer, synthetic fibers, and various other essentials, and a government official announced that related prices are expected to drop dramatically, contributing greatly to the stability of the citizens' livelihoods.]

Then the screen changed.

[We will now hear His Excellency's congratulatory address. Fellow citizens, please listen with reverent attention.]

The diner's patrons set down what they were eating and straightened their backs just as Yu-jin stepped up to the podium.

[Dear citizens. Today, we are witnessing a miracle.]

A calm voice, yet brimming with power.

[Only two years ago, we had nothing. And yet today, gazing upon this mighty industrial heart built by our own hands, we can stand tall and say it.]

He pointed to the massive refinery tower.

[We did it! The fuel produced here will go into our automobiles and send them racing down our highways; it will warm the biting winters of San Marcos. And the essential goods produced here will make the lives of our citizens that much more prosperous.]

Yu-jin clenched his fist.

[All of this glory belongs to you, the citizens, who silently fought against poverty with your sweat and labor. The day is not far off. Until we build a society in which everyone on this soil can chase their own dreams, I and this government will not slow down.]

Whoooaaaa―!!!

The roar of the crowd on the TV seemed to ring out all the way into the diner.

Even after the broadcast ended, no one could tear their eyes from the screen.

A middle-aged man chewing a tortilla muttered as if overcome.

"Back in the day, gas prices were so scary I couldn't even ride a motorcycle..."

"That's only the half of it. People used to be nothing but skin and bones from not eating enough, but look at everybody now, nice and plump because they're eating well."

"Take my kid going to school. Back then, how were you supposed to send 'em? They just helped with the work. But these days the state teaches 'em for free, feeds 'em, even gives 'em milk, if you can believe it."

"Right, right. And the Korean tourists keep pouring in lately. Nice manners, good tippers, too, my husband's over the moon driving his cab."

In the blink of an eye, the diner had turned into a space for praising Yu-jin.

"My little brother's out on the highway site, says he pulls in three hundred dollars a month. They even throw in room and board, so he sends every last cent straight home."

"Truly... ever since His Excellency took office, this country's been turned upside down."

"This is what a proper country looks like. Sure as anything."

"Boss! One more beer over here! No, forget it, I'll cover it, give everyone in the house a bottle on me!"

The customer who'd just bought the house a round hoisted his bottle.

"To His Excellency!"

"Cheers!"

Laughter blossomed inside the shabby little diner.

***

After finishing the address at the completion ceremony, I returned to the Presidential Palace with a light heart.

The sun would be setting soon.

A decent dinner and then clocking out seemed like the perfect move.

'I'll ask them to make galbi-jjim tonight. Eat that, watch Designated Survivor, then pass out. Perfect.'

Just as I was walking in, mapping out my short-term and long-term plans.

"Y-Your Excellency!"

Ricardo, the Senior Secretary for Finance, who'd been waiting for me, came scrambling over out of breath.

"What is it? Budget run out? Should we float another round of bonds?"

"No, it's not that..."

Ricardo swallowed dryly as he answered.

"Wells Fargo Bank, the major American bank, has sent us a formal inquiry about entering our market."

"...What?"

*****

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