Chapter 115

Mr. Sunset (2)

The thrilling Washington Naval Conference! Wow!

Even after experiencing the bottomless hell of the First World War, the brains of politicians, bureaucrats, and soldiers were still running on an outdated operating system.

In the minds of the world’s elites, one belief remained firmly embedded: “War can be prevented only if our nation possesses overwhelming military power.” And since neighboring countries naturally thought the same way, an endless arms race followed.

In truth, even a hundred years later in the 21st century, that mindset hasn’t entirely changed—but unlike then, the 21st century at least had the United States as the undisputed top power of Pax Americana. Back in this era, however, the dominance of the British Empire—the so-called leader of the world—was already fading.

But unlike the ruling class, ordinary people were exhausted by this madness of arms competition.

“What? Build more battleships again?”

“And you still expect to win the election?”

“It’s a miracle we even made it back alive. Prepare for war again? Are you insane?”

Thus, the Harding administration—boldly campaigning on disarmament—gathered eight nations: Britain, Japan, France, China, Italy, the Netherlands, and Belgium, to hold a naval disarmament conference.

This was the Washington Naval Conference.

The core issue of the conference was to curb the accelerating naval arms race in the Asia-Pacific region, and in each country’s mind, calculations of gains and losses were already spinning rapidly.

For the U.S. Navy, the nightmare scenario was a two-ocean war.

What if Britain and Japan formed an alliance—Japan attacking in the Pacific while Britain struck in the Atlantic?

After running countless simulations, the Navy’s brightest minds came to a single conclusion: “We can’t win this.”

From that point on, the U.S. goal became clear—break the Anglo-Japanese Alliance, and, “If we can’t afford to build more ships, then neither should they.”

For Britain, the nightmare was being ganged up on across the globe.

The British Empire stretched across all oceans and continents—which meant it had to defend the North Sea, the Mediterranean, the Atlantic, the Pacific, the Indian Ocean… an absurdly vast area.

If war broke out in just one region, the mighty Royal Navy could concentrate its forces and crush the enemy. But if it spread across two—or worse, three or more fronts? Then it was defeat in detail.

In fact, in the original timeline, that nightmare became reality.

While controlling the North Sea to prevent a Nazi invasion and fighting Italy in the Mediterranean to protect Suez, Britain lost its East Asian colonies to Japan.

Japan, however, operated on a fundamentally different mindset from Britain and the United States.

While Europeans slaughtered each other in trenches, Japan amassed wealth and rose to become a true great power. Its goal now was to establish itself as the undisputed leader of Asia.

Japan, needing to expand its navy anyway, sought to use this opportunity to secure a favorable treaty—while gaining recognition from other powers that Asia was its sphere of influence.

So then—what exactly could Yujin Kim accomplish in Japan?

How far should I carry out my mission? And how should I act for the future of Japan, the United States, Korea, and Asia?

After agonizing endlessly aboard the ship, I finally reached enlightenment.

The answer was simple. I don’t know!

It’s said that after years of ascetic practice, the Buddha finally attained enlightenment only after letting go of everything and accepting a simple bowl of milk porridge.

I’m no Buddha—but by following that example and stopping my overworked brain, I too reached a kind of clarity.

This isn’t something with a clear outcome, and there’s no way to predict the butterfly effects my actions might trigger.

Weaken Japan? Sure. But how?

For example, I could point at someone like Renya Mutaguchi and say, “You have the makings of a great hero. A future Army Minister, perhaps.” That might weaken things.

But just because I say that doesn’t mean Japan will actually promote him.

What if, instead, after the Pacific War begins, he gets purged as “someone favored by Kim Yujin—clearly a collaborator with the damned Americans”? Or what if internal politics prevent him from achieving the kind of legendary incompetence that history remembers?

Should I deliberately teach them flawed doctrines?

That’s a joke, right?

No matter how much a diplomat might resemble a “white spy,” I still have an official mission.

If I try to sabotage the Japanese military and get caught, my career is finished. And if it’s discovered that I deliberately undermined a friendly nation, I’m done for.

Besides—even if I somehow succeed in weakening Japan, that could create another problem.

Let’s say I talk enough nonsense to turn the Japanese army into complete idiots. Then what if Chiang Kai-shek crushes them and Chinese troops march into Gyeongseong? I have no desire to see a future called “Joseon Province of the Republic of China.”

After all that thinking, the conclusion was still the same:

The future is unknown.

Unless Japan pulls off ten miracles on the scale of the Battle of Myeongnyang, the sheer difference in national power makes it unlikely they could ever defeat the United States in the Pacific War.

Since I can no longer even predict the consequences of my actions, the most reasonable choice is simply to do my job properly.

Unless I hand the Japanese the blueprints for something like Little Boy, the Pacific War is inevitably heading toward a “Tokyo Hot” ending anyway.

Once I settled on that mindset, my tangled thoughts began to clear.

…Wait, isn’t this the Navy’s problem?

Why am I the one who has to work diligently?

Of course, I had absolutely no such intentions. None at all.

“So basically, we just need to share our experience with tanks and, while we’re at it, enthusiastically sell the adorable M1917 tank.”

“That’s really all? There’s nothing else, right?”

“Nothing. Just think of it as gaining experience.”

Where there are needles, thread follows—and where there are guns, bullets follow.

Accompanying me across the Pacific was a trusted friend: Captain John Hodge.

“Isn’t it good for your career to have an overseas posting? Or would you rather go to the Philippines?”

“Why does the Philippines suddenly come up? That sounds like a threat. Normally this would be a good thing, but being with you, Major Kim, I feel like something dramatic is bound to happen even in Japan.”

Just look at those distrustful eyes. Is there anyone more synonymous with honesty and reliability than me?

Trust me. Really—nothing will happen this time. It’s not like China, where bandits run rampant. No need to risk our lives in gunfights.

The only concern I had was the Great Kantō Earthquake.

But if I remember correctly, that happens around 1925 or so.

I’ll obviously be long gone from Japan by then. Nothing to worry about.

***

There were already signs when we stopped at Hawaii.

“Yujin Kim!!”

“It’s Yujin Kim!!”

“Long live the hero of the yellow race!! Long live Asia!!”

“Was your popularity really this big, Major Kim? Isn’t anyone looking for me?”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

“Damn it.”

About one-third of Hawaii’s population is Asian—especially Japanese.

And even there, my popularity was sky-high. But why? It’s been a while since the war hype died down.

I received a briefing from the Korean organization in Hawaii that Syngman Rhee had passed on to me, laid the groundwork for embedding influence within the Japanese community there, and steadily advanced procedures for relocating people from Hawaii to the U.S. mainland.

Hmm. Perfect, without a flaw.

After sailing across the remaining half of the Pacific, I finally set foot in Yokohama.

“Waaaaaaaah!!!”

“W-What is that?”

A sea of people.

A wall of humanity.

An overwhelming crowd beyond anything the eye could measure was waiting.

Memories from England came flooding back.

Back then too, I’d wondered—but it turned out they were there to welcome Woodrow Wilson. Better safe than sorry, so I asked just in case.

“Is there someone else arriving today besides me?”

“No, sir! They’re all here to welcome you, General!!”

Good lord.

What on earth has been happening in Asia?

With military bands and honor guards lined up on both sides playing music, I slowly stepped onto land—onto the Japanese archipelago for the first time.

But something felt off.

The music… the rhythm was slightly out of sync.

Looking closer—why are there two conductors? And the honor guards… why do they seem separate? Even their uniforms are different—

“Welcome! We sincerely welcome General Kim Yujin, friend of Admiral Tōgō!”

“Welcome! The Empire proudly welcomes General Kim Yujin, the great hero of Asia’s Army!”

…What is this mess?

Even without looking closely, it was obvious—they were glaring at each other. Seriously, you called me here without even sorting this out?

I could already picture what had happened.

They must’ve tried to settle things before I arrived—and failed miserably, resulting in this spectacular disaster before my eyes.

Sure, I could laugh it off or call them out—Ah, that’s satisfying, serves you right—but could a master of diplomacy like Yujin Kim really act so simply?

“To be welcomed so warmly by both the Army and Navy—the very pillars of the Empire—leaves me deeply moved. I’m not even a state guest, yet you treat me with such generosity…”

“Haha, you are too kind.”

“Indeed, one can feel the presence of a true hero. Now, if you would follow us this way—”

“What are you saying? This way, please.”

Hey, hey, hey.

I laid the groundwork to smooth things over—what are you doing now?

Awkwardness was starting to spread. If even Hodge could sense something was wrong, that said it all.

No choice. Time to use a trick I hadn’t planned on using.

“Hodge. You alright?”

“Yes, no problem.”

“Really? You’ve been on the ship too long—you’re not feeling well, are you? You were seasick just the other day.”

“When was I—”

“Shut up and say you’re dying from seasickness. Now.”

This idiot wasn’t picking up the hint, so I leaned in and kindly gave him the correct answer.

Only then did Hodge clutch his head and stomach, staggering dramatically.

“Ugh… I can hardly… stand…”

“I apologize, but it seems my friend found the Pacific crossing quite difficult. Would it be alright if we take him to the embassy to rest for a while before proceeding with the schedule?”

“Ah—of course!”

“Yes, please, this way! We’ll guide you!”

This was their last chance.

While we killed time at the embassy, they’d better sort things out among themselves and just give me the final result.

And so, leaving behind the massive welcoming crowd, we quickly headed for the U.S. Embassy in Japan.

After such generous consideration on my part, surely they’d get their act together, right?

***

No one was foolish enough not to realize that Yujin Kim had deliberately bought them time.

With the guest himself showing such consideration, if they continued bickering over pride and ruined the schedule, it would become a national embarrassment of the highest order.

Thus, at the working level, they somehow managed to coordinate the schedule—reaching a miraculous compromise: the Army and Navy would split everything exactly fifty-fifty.

Yes—the Army and Navy, that is.

“Why are the military making all the decisions on their own?”

That fragile balance collapsed the moment the Home Ministry barged in.

“Isn’t it the police’s responsibility to handle the security of domestic figures? The Foreign Ministry has also expressed dissatisfaction with the military’s conduct this time.”

“General Kim is here as part of the U.S. military, cooperating with the Imperial forces!”

“But he is also visiting as Admiral Tōgō’s personal guest, is he not? This isn’t purely a military matter, so it is only proper that the police also take part.”

Chaos.

“If General Kim has come, then naturally a meeting with our party leader must be included in the schedule!”

“What nonsense is that? Why are politicians getting involved? He’s just a major—a major!”

“A major, my foot—he’s a former general! Asia’s great hero has arrived; of course he should take a photo with the ruling party leader!”

Everyone trying to grab a piece of the pie.

Despite Yujin Kim’s goodwill, the situation only grew more tangled.