Chapter 108

Grinning Army Maker (2)

One spring day in 1921.

At last, I was able to hear the cry of a new life being born.

“Dorothy? Is Dorothy alright?”

“Both the mother and the child are healthy. It’s a beautiful daughter.”

“…Phew.”

I collapsed right where I stood.

My back was drenched, and sweat was pouring down my hands like rain.

I’d rather go wild in Cambrai one more time—this feeling of being unable to do anything was truly the worst.

“What kind of behavior is that for a grown man? You’re supposed to be a war hero—act like one, for goodness’ sake.”

“You were worse than that when I gave birth to Yujin.”

“Why do you keep bringing up old things!”

“And where do you get off raising your voice like that?”

Somehow, both my parents and my in-laws had all gathered here.

They hadn’t properly met each other very often, and with Yushin’s marriage coming up as well, the entire family had miraculously agreed to come together.

“Mm… Dad?”

“Henry, you’re awake?”

“Yeah… it’s noisy.”

“Your little sibling was just born. If you wait a bit, you’ll be able to see them.”

“A sibling? A real sibling?? Can I play ball with them now?”

“You’ll have to wait a little. The baby is still… well, a baby. They say she’s a pretty little princess.”

“A little sister…!”

Henry’s eyes sparkled.

Yeah, a little sister. A word that had never existed in my life.

Younger brothers are all the same—useless creatures who treat their older brother’s words like a gorilla’s meaningless grunts unless you use force and authority. But Henry? Now that he has a little sister, he must be overjoyed. I’m jealous, really.

“A little sister will be even more troublesome. If she takes after Dorothy… ugh. That gives me chills.”

“No way. Now that Henry is an older brother, he’ll become more responsible, right?”

“That’s exactly what my father used to say.”

Dorothy is such a kind person. My brother-in-law is exaggerating too much. People who are blessed never seem to realize just how blessed they are.

Unfortunately, Charles Curtis Jr., my eldest brother-in-law, couldn’t make it here—but my second brother-in-law, Henry King Curtis, was present. It was possible since Leavenworth is in Kansas.

“Have you decided on the baby’s name?”

“How about Charlotte?”

For a first daughter, Charlotte is the way to go.

In American style, Charlotte. In French, Charlotte. And if you read it in Japanese—famously awkward with pronunciation—Sharurotte.

Yes. The time had come to realize my grand plan.

I’d name my daughter Charlotte, then start a company named after her. Naturally, I’d take the last five letters—LOTTE.

Then I’d grow that company, operate a baseball team under its name, and fulfill my century-long plan: the strongest Lotte dominating MLB.

Heh… hehehe. The time has finally come.

The greatest genius owner in history—Yujin Kim—will now rule the Major League.

War hero! Future cheat! Endless funds! With this, it’s proven that no one can surpass me. You pathetic bat-swingers! Kneel before my “Strongest Lotte”—!

“…Charlotte’s not great.”

“Hmm… yeah, not so much.”

“Looks like you didn’t put much thought into names when you had your first child.”

Father-in-law. Even mother-in-law too.

Why—why are you all so brutally rejecting such a perfect name?!

“How about Margaret?”

“Mildred sounds modern these days.”

“Isn’t Mary a safe choice?”

“Mary? Even sheep grazing on the roadside are named Mary. That’s not safe—it’s overused.”

“Then Alice?”

…I’ve been abandoned.

After getting scolded for not even being able to properly name my daughter—despite being good at making tanks—I ended up being reduced to playing with Henry instead. And why are tanks even part of this conversation?

It was truly a tragic era, where the authority of the head of the household was steadily declining.

While I was outside, playing ball with Henry and mulling over my humiliation, someone got out of a car and walked toward me.

“General Kim, congratulations on your daughter.”

“Mr. Miller, you came too! And I’m not a general anymore, so please drop that title.”

“Haha. You’ll always be my general. How could I miss the chance to see you when your whole family has gathered? I drove here myself.”

“How is your son doing?”

As we exchanged pleasantries, Henry came running over.

“Hellooo!!”

“Oh my, Henry, you’ve grown a lot.”

“Do you know me, mister?!”

“Of course. I met you when you were just a baby.”

“This is Mr. John Miller. He helps take care of things for our family.”

“Then do you have a gun too, mister?”

No, no. That’s not it.

It seemed Henry assumed that every “Black man helping our family” was a bodyguard, since that’s all he’d seen so far. Hmm… I thought our household was quite multicultural, but maybe I need to be stricter with his education.

Since I also had something to say to Mr. Miller, I handed Henry back to my mother for a moment and spoke.

“Mr. Miller. You’ll have to move to another job.”

“General Kim? Could you repeat that? You must be joking.”

“I’m not joking. You’re fired.”

Miller dropped to his knees as if the sky had fallen.

“General! Did I make some grave mistake? Please, tell me—I’ll fix it, I swear. So please—”

“Hm. You did make a mistake. A very big one. Your ability is far too exceptional—it’s a mistake to keep you handling small household tasks for us.”

“…What?”

“I was able to secure a few positions within the Veterans Association and US MILK. Go to one of those, and represent veterans of color—protect their rights.”

The veterans’ group that Patton and I had formed merged with the “American Legion” and was finally reborn as the United States Veterans Association. Soon after, the association established a company and began building a new milk distribution network across the entire United States.

The results of my bet on Warren G. Harding were bearing rich fruit like this. Something about MILK being an acronym… well, I didn’t really know the details.

Anyway, the middle distributors desperately tried to block the creation of US MILK, but the sins they had piled up over time were simply too great.

“In a country of freedom, you’re suppressing freedom?!”

“If we don’t sell, there’s no milk supply!”

“The deliveryman coming to your house might be a Black man! Better buy from us safely!”

“Once the state controls milk distribution, they’ll manipulate prices however they want! Can’t you see a future where milk costs 10 dollars a gallon?!”

But they underestimated the public’s anger.

Especially the anger of women—who had just won Prohibition, suffrage, and even elected their own president with their own hands.

“You bastards who’d shove chalk into my children’s mouths are talking about freedom?!”

“I’ve got the freedom to shoot you, too!”

“Even if it’s an Indian delivering milk instead of a Black man, we won’t die from drinking it!!”

Truly terrifying—woman power.

All across the country, thugs and gangsters—who knew whose money they were taking—kept interfering with US MILK’s operations. But strangely enough, warehouses and homes of existing milk distributors were burning down, and hundreds of housewives would come out with shotguns and carry out lynchings just as often.

When I told him to go to US MILK, he looked confused at first, unable to understand. Then, as realization set in, tears began streaming down his face.

If I made some “sob sob” comment just because a Black man was crying, I’d probably get punched, huh?

“Why are you crying?”

“Thank you! Even if I’m killed, I will devote my life to the noble mission you’ve entrusted to me!”

“Why would you say something so extreme? You need to live a long life. You’ve got a child now, too.”

“If it weren’t for you, General, I would’ve already been a corpse back in my hometown. I will repay you. I swear it.”

Yeah, yeah.

Just keep working hard for me and my family’s interests from now on. I’ll support you generously too.

Heh, perfect. This is what an exemplary relationship between a superior and subordinate looks like. I’ll take good care of your children too—so serve loyally for generations.

***

What do you think was the very first thing the newly inaugurated Harding administration did in 1921?

The answer is:

“Drink! Drink!”

“This is dynamite liquor! Come on, bottoms up!”

“Mr. Secretary of the Interior! Place your bets!”

What else? White House night parties.

Back in Ubok, they couldn’t even bring women because it was technically a mourning setting—but now that the venue had moved to the White House, of course women were included.

A frenzy of parties.

In a White House thick with cigar smoke, drinking, gambling, and enjoying women—this was the “taste of normalcy” Americans had been longing for.

Well… ignorance is bliss.

As long as you don’t get caught, it’s all fine, right? Honestly, I was just glad I wasn’t in a position to be invited to something like that.

President Warren G. Harding was apparently disappointed that he couldn’t enjoy a pleasant “conversation” with a talented man of the future like Yujin Kim at the White House—but if a mere major like me joined that crowd, I’d probably end up flattened like I got caught in a press.

Hearing how things were running at the very top of this country left me utterly shocked—but soon, I found peace of mind.

That’s right. At least Harding could walk on two legs and speak! Compared to Woodrow Wilson, that alone was an improvement. Americans had made a wise choice.

Anyway, I thought I had secured everything I needed, but once I stepped into politics, it refused to let me go.

“Son-in-law.”

“Yes, father-in-law.”

“You don’t seem very interested in news from D.C. these days.”

“How could that be? It’s just that if a mere major gets too involved in politics, he’s bound to end up like Icarus, don’t you think?”

Too many people get burned trying to fly too close to the sun.

And the White House is very clearly the sun.

Well… Wilson was a bit of an exception. That sun didn’t just stay in the sky—it came flying straight at me. I had to survive, after all.

And seeing Harding and his friends partying like that, I was honestly afraid that if I got any closer to this administration, I’d end up dragged into corruption myself. I didn’t want to get more entangled.

“Then you don’t know anything about the National Defense Act that’s about to pass?”

“The National Defense Act?”

“After Wilson collapsed, the government was paralyzed. Now that a new president has been elected, Congress wants to quickly pass a new defense act and ‘normalize’ the Army.”

Damn. I didn’t even need to hear the rest. It had to be downsizing.

“…You really haven’t heard anything?”

“This is the first I’m hearing of it.”

“The leading figure behind this act is Congressman Julius Kahn of California. But it’s strange that no word reached you.”

Something felt off. I was growing more and more suspicious.

“The proposal for a 500,000 standing army was rejected. Instead, the National Guard will be expanded, and the Army will be reduced to around 280,000.”

“280,000? What are we supposed to do with that?”

“I agree, but… taxpayers don’t want a larger Army.”

“Well, there’s nothing we can do about that.”

My father-in-law glanced around, then spoke to me in a low voice.

“According to the new law, the currently organized tank corps will be disbanded, and tanks will be treated as part of the infantry.”

“…What kind of—ha!”

I had no idea who this Congressman Kahn or whatever was, but I could clearly see the shadow of my superior—who loved politics and hated tanks—lurking behind this law.

So this was the bastard who lit the fuse under Marshall.