Chapter 76: That Time I Paid Off a Debt in South America

TL: Skye

[Here Lies Ian Marcos, Prime Minister of San Marcos.]

A tombstone, inscribed in Portuguese.

"......"

I laid a single white chrysanthemum on top of the headstone.

"You damn bastard."

The moment I saw the name carved into the stone, a dry laugh slipped out of me.

In a way, he was the man who had dragged my life all the way here.

'Hey, Yu-jin! I'm feeling it today! Drinks are on me, let's go!'

'You're broke, what are you doing reaching for the check! I'm paying, so you just drink!'

'Too expensive, you say? Don't worry! My family's pretty well-off down in South America. I'll set you up with a position someday, want to come with me?'

No matter how many times I think about it, I never should have let him buy me those drinks.

Because of that we became friends, and in the end I fell for his sweet talk and boarded a plane to San Marcos.

And on top of that.

'Who shoves a guy all the way out here and then goes on ahead without him?'

He dumped this entire burden on me and died.

"......"

Crouching down, I ran my hand over the headstone; the chill of the stone seeped into my fingertips.

"So, is it comfortable over there?"

Naturally, there was no answer.

"Thanks to you dying first, I became president."

If he were alive, he'd be doubled over cackling right now, no doubt.

'I knew you could do it!'

he'd be hollering.

"I wanted to retire before forty... and thanks to you, it looks like I'll be working seven more years. What are you going to do about that?"

I took out a cigar, lit it, and set it on the headstone.

"This right here is a San Marcos cigar. Quality's pretty good, apparently. Good enough that an American tobacco company reached out wanting to distribute them. It should be a big boost to farm incomes going forward. Oh, and the highway construction is nearly done. The oil refinery's running like a dream too. So just..."

"......"

"Everything's running fine, so don't you worry."

In place of an answer came only silence, and I smiled bitterly as I rose to my feet.

"So rest easy and watch. I'll give it everything I've got."

A breeze blew through, scattering the cigar smoke.

That was farewell enough to the past.

"Let's go, Chief of Staff."

"Yes, sir."

I straightened my clothes and made my way down from the National Cemetery.

*

The first Cabinet meeting since my inauguration as president.

Maybe it was because I now officially wore the title of president, but the air felt different.

"Everyone, please be seated."

At a single word from me, the Senior Secretaries took their seats in perfect order.

Tension and excitement mingled on every face.

"First, you all worked hard throughout the election. Thanks to you, I was able to win comfortably."

"Not at all, Your Excellency! It was the wise choice of the people!"

"It was the result of Your Excellency's achievements!"

"We did nothing! This was accomplished by Your Excellency and Your Excellency alone!"

As the odes to my glory poured in from every corner, I raised a hand to cut them off.

"Enough with the flattery. Let's get to work. The election's over, so now the real job begins."

I tossed a single sheet of paper I'd prepared onto the table.

"This is the first item on the national agenda following my inauguration as president."

The Senior Secretaries' eyes locked onto the document.

On it was written a single sentence.

[Plan for the Repayment of Foreign Debt and the Restoration of Our International Credit Rating]

"First things first: let's pay off our debt."

At my declaration, silence settled over the conference room.

The first to react, predictably, was Ricardo, the Senior Secretary for Finance.

"Your Excellency, debt? At present, San Marcos carries no debt whatsoever..."

"No. We do. There's one very old debt, one we've been deliberately looking away from."

At that, Ricardo answered as if it had finally clicked.

"You don't mean... the loan we received from the Soviet Union back in the day?"

"That's the one. As you all know, in the late 1980s we borrowed three hundred million dollars from the Soviet Union under the banner of an economic development loan. Then the Soviet Union dissolved, Russia demanded repayment, and we responded with nothing but stony silence."

Honestly, the fact that we took this loan at all is a joke.

Think about where San Marcos sits.

Two hundred kilometers from Florida, USA. Three hours away by boat.

Would the Cold War-era Soviet Union, locked in a rivalry with America, really have extended a loan to a country like that out of the goodness of its heart?

'Not a chance.'

I'd have to bring former President Juan back with Edo Tensei to hear the full story, but my guess is that the Soviets were clearly using the loan as leverage to put a leash on San Marcos, sitting right under America's nose. [TL: Edo Tensei, the forbidden resurrection jutsu from Naruto.]

They may even have entertained some wild fantasy about stationing nuclear missiles here.

And former President Juan must have judged that siding with the Soviets paid better than siding with the Americans.

But then, guess what?

The Soviet Union starts to wobble in the late eighties? And in '91 there's even a coup?

That's when former President Juan must have thought:

[If I play this right, I can stiff them on the whole thing!]

And in December 1991, the Soviet Union really did dissolve, and President Juan walked off daring them to come and collect.

But there was one thing former President Juan failed to consider...

"Thanks to that, San Marcos was branded a credit-delinquent state in the international financial markets. Issuing government bonds became a pipe dream."

Namely, that we'd skipped out on the money, but lost our credit in the process.

Think about it.

Who lends money to a country that swallowed a three-hundred-million-dollar loan and wiped its mouth clean? And even if such a country issued government bonds, who would buy them?

Naturally, our national credit rating got stamped with a C, effectively junk status, roughly on par with Venezuela, whose economy recently imploded and whose president got hauled away.

'If we don't do something about this, we have no future.'

Of course, Korea and the United States are providing loans and aid, but that's only because of our special relationships; to enter the international bond market, we have to restore our credit one way or another.

Until now, there'd been no room in the budget, and above all, as a mere Acting President I was in no position to go around correcting the previous regime's sins, so I'd let it sit. But not anymore.

'Cleaning this up now is a hundred times the right call.'

Ricardo looked deeply uneasy.

"B-but, Your Excellency. That was more than forty years ago. Russia isn't even pressing for repayment; is there really any need for us to go poking the hornet's nest ourselves..."

"They haven't forgotten. They've simply shelved it because there didn't seem to be anything worth collecting. But now?"

I spoke firmly.

"We are perfectly capable of paying. And Russia surely knows it. They're only sitting quietly because of the war; the moment it ends, they'll come pressing for repayment, you can count on it."

"Ignoring them, as we always have, is also an option."

"No, it isn't."

I shook my head as I answered.

"From here on, we step into the light. And we cannot do that while branded a credit-delinquent state. Only by resolving this can we make the next great leap."

While everyone held their silence, Isabella spoke up, her voice cool.

"Your Excellency, before anything else, I'd like to raise a practical concern."

"By all means."

"When the loan was made in '89, the interest on the three-hundred-million-dollar principal was four percent."

"Considering the era, that's a remarkably low rate."

"True... but the terms change entirely in the event of default. The agreement stipulated a penalty rate of eight percent, double the annual four. Calculating it back from then, with interest compounding on interest, the amount owed approaches roughly nine billion dollars."

"...!"

The conference room erupted.

"N-nine billion dollars?!"

"Where on earth would we find that kind of money..."

"Your Excellency, please reconsider, just this once. Nine billion dollars would be impossible even if we emptied every available budget we have!"

The Senior Secretaries objected, practically foaming at the mouth.

A natural reaction.

San Marcos's economy may have shot straight upward, but nine billion dollars was an astronomical sum, a fifth of our GDP.

Spending that kind of money to settle a stale old debt was clearly out of the question.

But.

"Who said anything about paying all of it?"

I'd never had any intention of repaying the full amount in the first place.

"Pardon?"

"Nine billion dollars is just a number on a ledger. The math can come out however you make it come out, can't it?"

"Meaning..."

"Right now, Russia has its hands full fighting Ukraine. And between that and the global sanctions, they're in dire straits."

"......"

"Butin must be sweating blood as we speak. When the war ends, he'll be handed a colossal bill. In a situation like that, what do you think happens when a forgotten debtor from the other side of the planet shows up offering to pay?"

"Ah... we could settle on the cheap!"

Isabella exclaimed, visibly impressed.

"Exactly. If we keep playing dumb, that nine-billion-dollar claim is as good as scrap paper. But if we walk in holding cash, the story changes."

"......"

"At their hardest moment, when they're most desperate. Isn't this our chance to wipe out a nine-billion-dollar debt for pocket change?"

The air in the conference room shifted.

"Chief of Staff Isabella."

"Yes, Your Excellency."

"Find us a channel to contact the Russian government. Senior Secretary for Foreign Affairs Sophia, convey to the United States our intention to repay the Russian loan, and explore repayment methods that won't run afoul of the sanctions. The rest of you, support these two."

I rose from my seat as I spoke.

"My first directive as president is to normalize San Marcos's credit. Keep that in mind, everyone, and get moving."

*

Having nothing like an overseas hotline of our own, we decided to conduct the negotiations with Russia with Korea's help.

And the man who came to assist with that was none other than:

"It's been a long time, Mr. President."

Moon Seong-mun of the National Intelligence Service.

"It really has been a while. Almost two years now?"

"The last time we met was at the founding of Tortilla Energy, so it must be about that long."

"Wow... has it been that long already."

When I extended my hand, Moon Seong-mun clasped it with both of his.

"Congratulations on your landslide victory."

"Thank you."

I offered him a seat and got straight down to business.

"You've come a long way, and I apologize for jumping right into work, but how is Russia responding?"

"We received the order from the Blue House and activated our Moscow line. As expected, their response has been red-hot."

"Of course it has. The war must be bleeding them dry."

"Precisely. The man known as Butin's personal vault keeper has stepped in himself. Word is he's preparing to enter San Marcos in total secrecy as we speak."

"So what are the terms they want?"

Moon Seong-mun paused for a moment, then spoke carefully.

"Their official position, for now, is to collect the full nine billion dollars, by the book. Not a penny of discount, they say."

"That's just a negotiating line. There has to be a number they actually want, doesn't there." "......"

Instead of answering, Moon Seong-mun held up three fingers.

"Thirty percent minimum. That's the figure the vault keeper himself mentioned."

"2.7 billion dollars... It seems we see things rather differently."

A bargain compared to nine billion, of course, but by my standards it was absurdly expensive.

"From Russia's perspective, they're cutting nine billion down to under a third, so they seem to consider it quite the generous offer."

"Generous, my foot. The claim's basically scrap paper anyway."

"I take it you have no intention of paying whatever they ask."

"We're not the desperate ones here."

"And if, by some chance, the negotiations fall apart? What then?"

"Then..."

I set down my teacup without a hint of concern and answered.

"They never see a cent of it. Ever."

"I... I see."

There's a saying.

Borrow a little, and the debtor's at the lender's mercy; borrow a lot, and the debtor becomes the master.

And I had every intention of lording it over Russia.

*****

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