Chapter 87 : That Time I Built a Casino in South America (2)

TL: Skye

The eastern coast, a thirty-minute drive from Libertad.

I stepped out of the car and, for a moment, the sight in front of me left me speechless.

"Would you look at that..."

An endless expanse of cobalt-blue Pacific.

White waves crashing apart, a beach of golden sand, and a grove of palm trees swaying in the wind.

It was the kind of view that belonged in a magazine.

'The scenery, at least, is unbeatable.'

Shouldn't we preserve this beautiful stretch of nature...? The thought didn't cross my mind for even a second.

'Does nature put food on the table?'

Environmental protection is a luxury for people who already have money. With not a damn thing to go around, what environment, what nature?

If anything, my head was full of nothing but how to bulldoze this beautiful beach as fast as possible and put up a city.

As I was thinking that and adjusting my sunglasses, Resa spoke from beside me.

"The prevailing opinion was that it would be best to build the standard hotels and resorts facing the coast, and put the casino further inland."

"Is there really a need to do it that way?"

I figured we could just combine them into one, so I asked, and she spread out a map as she answered.

"Rather than turning this into a simple casino town, I thought it might be better to develop it into a tourist city that makes use of these beautiful resources. For instance, tourists staying at the beachfront hotels could enjoy surfing and swimming, while those at the inland hotels could enjoy the casino."

It was a reasonable enough choice.

Just as not every hotel has a casino, not every guest likes a hotel that does.

We could take in family tourists too, which might actually be better in terms of revenue.

For example, the kids and the mother could enjoy the beautiful beachfront scenery while the father heads off to the casino.

"That's Senior Secretary Resa for you. I like it a lot."

"You flatter me, Your Excellency."

"Ah, where did we decide to put the Drump Hotel site?"

"We settled on building it next to the planned golf course over there."

"That would put it on the highest ground in the area. Were they pleased with that?"

"When we asked through President Drump's personal secretary, we were told he was extremely satisfied."

"Good. Let's proceed with that. And I'd like us to put a little more muscle into the golf course. Since we're building one anyway, make it big and luxurious."

"I'll relay it to Tortilla Construction."

It was while we were absorbed in looking at the map and trading opinions.

A rising murmur.

Off in the distance, people began pouring out from between the palm trees.

Shabby clothes, skin burned dark.

One look was all it took to see they were the fishermen and farmers who lived nearby.

"There, it's true! His Excellency really came here?!"

"See? I told you he came!"

"It, it's His Excellency!"

"His Excellency the President is here!"

I'd come quietly, and yet somehow they'd caught wind of it and come running.

The bodyguards moved quickly to hold them back, but I raised a hand and stopped them.

"It's all right."

These were people who'd have to be relocated soon anyway, so this actually worked out.

Persuading them to move myself would land a hundred times better than some civil servant showing up at their door.

And so, with a benevolent smile fixed in place, I was walking toward them when.

A heavy thud.

"Your Excellency...!"

The old man at the very front dropped to his knees right in front of my feet.

And that, it turned out, was only the beginning.

Thud, thud.

The dozens of residents who'd followed began kneeling on the sand and bowing their heads, as if they'd all agreed on it in advance.

It was almost like...

'I feel like I've seen this scene somewhere before?'

Like fanatics face to face with a cult leader.

"S-sob... Your Excellency... thank you!"

"Thank you for giving us land, for making it so we can put food on the table!"

"Thanks to you, my grandson went off to school! How can I ever repay this kindness...?"

"Oh, come now..."

Flustered, I tried to help the old man to his feet.

"Please don't do this, sir. Get up. Everyone, please rise!"

"No! Your Excellency is our savior!"

"Please, just lay your hand on my head once! I'll never wash my hair again as long as I live."

"No... please do wash your hair, for hygiene's sake."

Well, fair enough. I'd handed out state land to people who'd been starving on barren ground, let them plant tobacco as a cash crop, and given their children free education. It made sense they'd take to me like this.

But.

'Makes me feel bad about relocating them...'

But even so, this place had to be developed into a tourist city.

Construction that mobilized this much manpower would create countless jobs in and of itself, and the experience gained from it would advance San Marcos's construction expertise.

And it wouldn't stop there.

Build a tourist city, and it generates an enormous number of long-term jobs within it.

Sure, the hotel profits would go to the investors, but the taxes collected off it would be staggering too.

'Can't let my resolve soften.'

With a hardened heart, I looked at the residents kneeling on the ground.

"Sir, and all of you good people. The reason I came here today is that I have something to say to you."

At my voice, the residents held their breath and listened.

"As you can see, this is a truly beautiful place. But it's barren land, hard to make a living on. The sea may be close by, but there aren't enough boats, and the sea winds make farming difficult."

I pointed at the ramshackle shacks they lived in.

"Your Excellency..."

"That's why I'm going to transform this place, remake it from the ground up. Enormous hotels will go up, and I'll bring the rich of the entire world flocking here to spend their money."

The residents' eyes went wide.

"So I have a favor to ask. I'm going to need all of you... to clear out of here."

For a moment, silence fell.

Being told to leave the very ground their lives were rooted in. Normally that's the sort of thing that provokes resistance or desperate pleading.

But the residents' reaction was something else entirely.

"Truth be told, if not for the kindness Your Excellency has shown us, we wouldn't even be alive right now. Take as much as you please."

"That's right. This is land Your Excellency granted us. Even if you take it back, we don't mind."

"Everything according to Your Excellency's will..."

If anything, they kept nodding along as though we were welcome to take whatever we liked.

"No, hold on."

Come on, when a man says he's taking their land, people are supposed to push back a little.

I spoke to them again.

"I'm not just telling you to get out."

At my gesture, Senior Secretary Resa unrolled a bird's-eye rendering she'd prepared in advance.

"Ten kilometers east of here, I'm going to build a new village for all of you."

"A new... village, you say?"

"Yes. Houses built not from wooden planks but from sturdy concrete and brick. As for farmland, I'll allocate you a larger plot than you have now, and the state will handle the clearing and cultivation. And of course, I intend to provide full support for fertilizer and seed as well."

"......!"

The residents' mouths dropped open.

And honestly, they couldn't help it.

Even the capital, Libertad, was lined wall to wall with shacks.

Naturally, their homes could be nothing more than hovels.

To people like that, a concrete house with running water and electricity was something they'd only ever dreamed of.

On top of that, wider farmland and fertilizer support too? They couldn't help but be moved.

I drove the final nail in.

"What's more, if you wish, I'll give you priority for jobs at the hotels and resorts that will be built here."

Having poured out my pledges, I turned to the residents, who stood there dumbstruck.

"I promise you all of this in the name of the President."

And in that instant.

"S-sob!"

"That Your Excellency would care this much about the likes of us... sob, sob!"

"Thank you. Your Excellency. Truly, thank you."

The residents broke down wailing and threw themselves to the ground in tears.

"No, come on."

Every single time I open my mouth, they do this...

***

Meanwhile, at the same hour. Inside a black sedan headed for the coast.

Two men sat in the back seat.

Lucio, the Intelligence Chief who ruled the nights of San Marcos, and his cousin Antonio Carvalho, godfather of the San Marcos immigrants in the United States.

Antonio kept letting out gasps of amazement as he looked out the window.

"My God... is this really the same shithole San Marcos I used to know? Paved roads, and streetlights standing along them."

He'd been getting news of San Marcos through various channels, but the gap was so enormous that the wonder just burst out of him.

The homeland in his memory had been a living hell ruled by gangs and poverty, and yet the scene before his eyes now was a transformation of a whole different order.

"The one who worked such a miracle... I'm finally about to meet him."

Antonio's voice trembled faintly.

He was on his way to have an audience with the absolute power who had saved his homeland, the emperor Yu-jin Choi, and this very moment felt like a dream.

Just then, Lucio, seated beside him, spoke with a coldness that came down like a bucket of ice water.

"Brother."

"Yeah, what is it."

"You need to keep your wits about you."

Lucio's eyes were sharp.

It wasn't the manner of a man addressing his older cousin. It was the look of an Intelligence Chief issuing a warning.

"His Excellency may look gentle on the outside, but inside he's colder than an Arctic wind. If he decides you're even the slightest bit of harm to the homeland, he'll carry out a purge on the spot. That's the kind of man he is."

"I know, of course I know."

"No, you don't, Brother. Back when he was Acting President, he broke a man's neck with his own hands for being a threat to the regime."

"......"

"If you so much as misspeak in front of him... there's nothing even I could do to protect you."

Lucio paused for a moment, then added in an even lower voice.

"No, he might even order me to be the one to deal with you. As I just said, that's the kind of man he is."

Antonio flinched and looked at his cousin.

From the look in his eyes, this was no idle talk.

He swallowed hard.

Truth be told, he'd known some of this already.

As the godfather of the immigrant community in the United States, there was no way he wouldn't know what was happening in San Marcos.

He'd heard the rumor of a dictator who, in a single morning, ground thousands of gang members into fertilizer for the cornfields.

He'd told himself surely no one would go that far, but now he could see it wasn't just a rumor.

"All right, I'll take it to heart. I won't make a single mistake."

"Now you're talking sense."

Lucio's expression eased a little.

And so, a short while later.

The car arrived at the inspection site where Yu-jin was said to be, and came to a stop.

"Let's step out."

Antonio straightened his clothes and opened the car door.

And then.

"......!"

He froze at the sight that unfolded before him.

Far off, atop the white sand, a single man stood.

The problem was.

"What... what in the world is that?"

Hundreds of residents were kneeling and prostrate before that man, as though attending a saint.

Through the sound of the waves came voices raised in tearful praise.

"Your Excellency! Thank you! Truly, thank you! S-sob!"

"Th-thank you for saving us!"

"For Your Excellency, we'd lay down our lives!"

A man standing in the very center, raising the residents to their feet with a benevolent expression.

Watching that figure, seemingly bathed in a halo, Antonio shuddered.

'That man... he's already beyond human.'

An existence beyond a mere dictator.

'A living god of San Marcos...!'

When his eyes met Yu-jin's, Antonio nearly buckled at the knees without even realizing it.

*****

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