Chapter 70 : That Time I Held a Sports Festival in South America (2)

TL: Skye

After getting crushed by the gang team in the first event, soccer, the civil servants' team had all the cheer of a funeral parlor.

"If we lose here, it's over."

"There go our vacation days."

"Pull yourselves together!"

The gang team, meanwhile, riding high on their one win, was in fine form.

Shirts stripped off, tattoos on full display, they cackled.

"Hey, a real fight ain't training. Every day was war for us. Not for you guys, right?"

"Wouldn't know unless you've been there. Heh heh heh."

"What did you say, punk?!"

"You bastards, just you wait."

Most of the civil servants' team had served their hitch and then settled into office life, so on pure physicality alone, the gang team clearly had the edge.

And so, preparations for the next match were complete.

The second event was tug-of-war.

"Ready!"

At the referee's call, both teams gripped the thick rope.

Tweeeeet!

"Heave! Heave!"

The instant it began, the gang team let out savage yells and yanked the rope.

Their overwhelming strength sent the civil servants' line lurching forward in an instant.

"Wha, whoa? We're getting dragged!"

Just as it seemed it would end in an anticlimax.

"Aaaagh!!!"

The man at the very back of the civil servants' team, the captain, let out a strangled, desperate roar.

A former army master sergeant, veins bulging in his neck, he bellowed:

"Hold the line!"

In that instant, something changed in the civil servants' eyes.

"OOOOAAAH!"

On the call, in unison, they all threw themselves flat backward.

After holding that way for a few moments.

"Pull! One, two! One, two!"

Hundreds of men began throwing their weight in on the count.

"Heave-ho! Heave-ho!"

The rhythm was flawless.

Thanks to drill marches done a thousand times in the military, syncing as a team was second nature.

Soon their weight-laden movements became one massive wave.

"Wha, what? Hey! Pull! I said pull!"

The gang team, on the other hand, was complete chaos.

Some pulled, some braced, no shared chant, their force inevitably scattering.

"Ngghhh...!"

And in the end, they began to be helplessly dragged forward.

Tweeeeet!

"Civil servants' team wins!"

A victory of rules and discipline.

[Score 1 : 1]

And just like that, the score was back to square one.

The third event was the fertilizer sack carry.

The rules were simple.

In place of a baton, each runner shouldered a 40-kilo sack of corn fertilizer and ran one lap around the field.

Borrowing the relay format, five runners passed the fertilizer sack as their baton.

Bang!

When the guard refereeing fired his pistol into the air, the runners shot out.

"Out of my way, asshole!"

The relay that began that way was...

In a word, a shitshow.

Some tripped opponents up; others trampled right over the fallen.

Dust hung so thick that nothing was visible an inch ahead, total bedlam.

Then, at last, the sack passed to the anchor.

The gang team's anchor was a former gang boss. The civil servants' anchor was a former special forces master sergeant.

"GRAAAAH!"

The gang boss took off at a speed that didn't match his bulk.

The civil servant gritted his teeth and gave chase, but closing the gap wasn't easy.

"Hah... hah...!"

The Brown Bear, having spent too much in the opening, began to wobble from exhaustion. Unable to bear the sack's weight, his legs buckled.

"N, now! Run!"

Just as the civil servants' anchor was about to hit his final burst of speed.

"Agh!"

He, too, tumbled to the dirt.

His legs had seized up from pushing too hard, too fast.

Groans went up from every corner. Both runners flat on the ground in a do-or-die moment.

But the civil servants' anchor did not give up. He clutched the fertilizer sack to his chest like a baby and began crawling on all fours like a beast.

"Vacation... one week... vacation...!"

There was a madness in his eyes.

"No! Get up!"

The gang team was screaming, but their runner was already spent, foaming at the mouth.

The Viper dug his bleeding knees into the dirt and dragged himself forward.

Thud!

And finally, he crossed the finish-line tape with his head.

"WOOOAAAH!!!"

"Aaaahhh! We're free! We made it!"

The victorious civil servants' team threw themselves into one another's arms and sobbed.

Like comrades returning alive from war, they pounded each other's sweat-soaked backs and roared.

Meanwhile.

The defeated gang team beat the ground and wept.

That was when it happened.

"Hold on, everyone, over here a minute."

Someone stepped out from the cheering civil servants' team.

It was former Vice Minister of Defense Bruno Alves, who had proudly flunked the civil servant competency evaluation and been transferred to Tortilla Farm.

A former infantry division commander and an elite who had retired with his sights set on the Minister's chair, he now had the sun-blackened face and sharp, glittering eyes of a man who had thoroughly turned into a farmhand.

In any case, under his lead the civil servants' team bickered and traded opinions, then approached Yu-jin.

"Your Excellency... I trust you've been well."

"Ah, Vice Minister Bruno. Fancy meeting you here!"

When Yu-jin greeted him warmly, Bruno let out an audible breath of relief.

"So. Getting by all right?"

"...Yes, sir. Thanks to you, very well. My body's gotten this healthy, even."

"That's a relief to hear."

Bruno hesitated, then took a step closer to Yu-jin.

"Sir... about the grand prize, that week of leave."

He swallowed and glanced sideways at the defeated gang team.

"It doesn't sit right, just us resting. Could we maybe give everyone three days off, regardless of who won?"

"...!"

Bruno's suggestion took Yu-jin completely by surprise.

The least likely man to make such a proposal had just made the most considerate one of all.

"Vice Minister Bruno."

"Yes, Your Excellency."

"That brotherhood, looking after your comrades... it is truly admirable."

Yu-jin was moved.

He'd never imagined that Bruno, a man who'd cared only about himself and made a career of flattery, could change this much.

'Working out in the great outdoors really has made him healthy, body and soul.'

The power of nature truly is something else, Yu-jin thought, and nodded.

"Very well. I accept Foreman Bruno's proposal. Win or lose, everyone gets a week off."

"......?!"

"Major General, did you hear that?"

"Yes! Your Excellency!"

"See that the word gets out to everyone. But don't let them all leave at once. Organize them into groups and have them rotate."

"Understood, Your Excellency!"

When the news of the leave spread, a cheer loud enough to shake the Central Mountains went up.

For that one moment, Yu-jin was their god.

And that evening, Tortilla Farm was one giant festival.

Beef sizzled on grills made from drum barrels cut in half, and beer chilled in ice water was hauled out without pause.

In the thick smoke of the charcoal fires, the line between gangsters and civil servants dissolved.

"Hey man, that tackle earlier was killer. What outfit were you in?"

"Special forces... You weren't bad yourself. Solid technique."

"Heh, I knocked around the streets for a while. So, what's your age?"

"Forty-two. You?"

"Ah, I'm way younger then. I'll be calling you big brother from now on."

Their blood-spattered rivalry melted away like snow over a bite of meat and a glass of liquor.

Watching this beautiful scene of grand reconciliation with quiet satisfaction, Yu-jin spoke to Isabella standing beside him.

"Look at that. Isn't it wonderful? You can almost smell the humanity."

But Isabella's expression remained dark.

Watching the workers enjoying themselves, she asked in a worried voice:

"Your Excellency... but if you give them a full week off and they don't come back, what then..."

If this many people went out into the world and ran off, it would be a disaster.

Farm operations would be thrown into chaos, of course, and security problems could follow.

But Yu-jin only chuckled easily and took a sip of his beer.

"That won't happen."

"......"

He gestured with his chin toward the workers tearing happily into their meat.

"I trust those men."

Yu-jin meant it.

Where in all of San Marcos was there another job that fed a man like this and dropped four hundred dollars into his account every month like clockwork? They wouldn't run.

Even if they did walk out, all they'd find outside was day-laboring on some construction site, at best.

"And if they don't come back..."

Yu-jin shrugged.

"We just give them a different job. There's plenty of work to go around."

His meaning was simple, but Isabella flinched and took a step back, horrified.

Her gaze flickered across the heavily armed soldiers patrolling the farm's perimeter, the machine-gun nests.

A place one could enter but never leave. A place where deserters faced nothing but merciless punishment.

'If they don't come back... he means to send them to the mines...!'

Perhaps thanks to her misunderstanding.

Yu-jin's words, relayed through Isabella to the Major General, soon spread among the workers of Tortilla Farm. And of those granted leave, not a single one failed to return.

***

The clock hands of San Marcos turned quickly.

The murderous summer heat passed, then the autumn that turned the corn stalks of Tortilla Farm a golden yellow, and before anyone knew it, it was the tail end of December, when a chill wind tugged at every collar.

The Grand Conference Room of the Presidential Palace.

A hall that would normally be filled with heated debate over agenda items hung today in an odd silence.

That was because today was the day for the final accounting of the administration that had been operating under the Acting President system.

"We will now begin the third-anniversary final report on the current administration."

Isabella, in a crisp suit, brought up the screen and began her presentation.

"The past three years have been the most turbulent and the greatest in the history of San Marcos."

Alongside her calm voice, large letters appeared on the screen.

[Public Order Secured]

"By rehabilitating the gangs that had operated in the shadows, we have completely restored the public order that was once in chaos. We are now a nation where one can walk the streets at night without fearing a bullet."

Isabella pressed a button, and the next heading appeared.

[Government Reorganization for Efficiency]

"Through the decisive measure of the civil servant competency evaluation, we have completed the streamlining of every ministry. As a result, we have realized substantial budget savings, and operational efficiency has improved by approximately 200%."

[Civil War Ended]

"Thanks to His Excellency's brilliant strategy, the regional warlords seeking secession were brought to heel, minimizing the chaos suffered by the nation."

[Food Security Established]

"Furthermore, the era in which half the population suffered from hunger has come to an end. We rapidly raised our food self-sufficiency rate by harvesting countless fish from the sea and corn and potatoes from the land. On top of that, with the massive food aid received from the United States distributed at half price, the word 'hunger' in San Marcos has become a word one can only find in the dictionary."

[Education Reform]

On the screen, images appeared: schools freshly painted white in place of dilapidated shacks, and children walking to class in clean uniforms.

"We have brought the children once driven onto the streets or into labor sites back into the schools. We have legislated nine years of compulsory education and implemented free school meals."

"......"

"In the early days there was some confusion due to underestimated demand, but with His Excellency's decisive action, we focused budget on building additional classrooms and securing teachers. As a result, the enrollment rate skyrocketed from 40% to 98%."

[Oilfield Extraction]

"We have succeeded in developing the Northern Oilfield, where reserves are estimated at 2.6 billion barrels. At a daily extraction rate of 400,000 barrels, at current oil prices, we project over 100 billion dollars in revenue over the next 18 years."

[Resident Registration Project Implemented]

"Through the Resident Registration Project, we have eliminated the blind spots of administration. As a result, we have integrated nearly four million Unregistered persons into the body of citizens. This vast population will soon become the foundation of our national strength."

Isabella drew a breath and continued.

[Highway Construction Begun & Korean Corporations Attracted]

"A highway connecting Libertad to the provinces is being opened up like a great artery. We have also attracted Korea's major corporations, creating high-quality jobs, and through education reform, we have gifted our children a future."

[Saemaul Undong]

"The countryside, once left to decay, has been reborn through Saemaul Undong. Roofs have been refurbished, roads widened, and with the success of the specialty crop, tobacco, farm household incomes are projected to climb dramatically."

Next, scenes of me shaking hands with U.S. President Drump and embracing the Korean president filled the screen.

[Foreign Diplomacy]

"On diplomacy. We have successfully completed our diplomatic work with the United States, the world's preeminent power, and with Korea, an economic giant. Korea in particular has designated San Marcos as an economic partner and spared no investment, providing massive ODA support."

Having finished her explanation, Isabella switched off the screen and looked around the room.

"Finally, allow me to present the economic indicators that summarize all of these achievements."

She exhaled and began.

"The national GDP, which stood at 17.3 billion dollars at the outset of this administration, is projected to reach approximately 52 billion dollars by the end of this year, roughly triple the starting figure."

Though they had been bracing for high numbers, the figures came in even higher than expected, and the Senior Secretaries' jaws dropped.

"Accordingly, the GDP per capita, once a mere 2,800 dollars, has surpassed 4,100 dollars. The unemployment rate, which had been at 16%, has fallen into the 7% range, and our dollar reserves are continuing to set new record highs."

Isabella closed the report and added one final line.

"You have truly worked so very hard, Your Excellency."

For a moment, silence settled over the conference room.

Clap... clap... clap clap clap!

The applause that someone began spread like wildfire.

"WOOOAAAH!"

"Your Excellency! You've truly worked so hard!"

"Viva Yu-jin! Viva San Marcos!"

The Senior Secretaries rose to their feet and offered a standing ovation.

Some, overcome with emotion, even let their eyes well up.

Something warm pressed at the corner of my chest as well.

'...Guess I really did put in the work.'

The days I'd thrashed and clawed to stay alive flashed past like a slideshow.

Almost getting shot by Major General Thiago, the armored division commander. The days of having to grovel because there was no money. All of that hardship was dissolved into those numbers up on the screen.

I cleared my throat to cover the embarrassment.

"Ahem, take your seats, everyone. I didn't do this alone. Director Isabella, and every one of you sitting here, this is the result of all of us bleeding sweat together."

As the applause died down, I turned back to Isabella.

"Director Isabella."

"Yes, Your Excellency."

"All that's left now is the election."

Isabella nodded at my words.

"Yes. Precisely. As it happens, there is one matter I'd like to propose regarding the election."

"Go ahead."

She slid a file that had been resting in front of her across to me and said:

"It is a Constitutional Amendment Bill that fixes the presidential term at seven years and permits unlimited re-election. Please, grant your approval."

"...What?"

*****

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