George Bush’S Great America [EN]: Chapter 148

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The ‘strength of culture’ that Mr. Kim Gu had once envisioned was now being realized, as South Korean culture profoundly reshaped North Korea. As the rigid quotas that had constrained the North Korean people dissolved, they began to experience the novelty of ‘leisure’ time.

This transformation extended to the existing high-ranking officials. For instance:

“Pass! Pass! Pass it here! You want to be reassigned to the Aoji coal mine instead of just getting a warning?”

Instead of the traditional soccer term, they now confidently used the foreign word ‘pass.’ Previously, such usage might have triggered a severe purge. Now, everyone used it without hesitation.

“If you have time to chatter, hurry up and kick! I’m going to show you some real people’s soccer today!”

A middle-aged man, balding and with a prominent belly, skillfully dribbled the soccer ball, preventing anyone from getting close. While his skills weren’t exceptional, the name ‘Choi Chang-ok’ emblazoned on his team vest commanded respect.

This was a common sight in South Korea. This ‘division commander soccer’ was a whimsical game where, the moment a superior officer took possession of the ball, the crowd parted like the Red Sea, creating a path to the goal, regardless of team affiliation. Anyone who dared approach would suddenly stumble and fall.

In essence, Choi Chang-ok was the ultimate authority on the soccer field.

“You sons of bitches! Can’t you appreciate the treasure sword-like performance of Choi Chang-ok, who protects the Party Central Committee, huh?”

Despite his authority, his stamina was limited, forcing him to retreat to the bench after scoring a few goals.

“Wow! Comrade Choi Chang-ok! Today’s game was truly amazing!”

“Oh, Comrade Kim Yong-sik! What brings you here! Weren’t you supposed to be working on the light-water reactor construction today?”

Choi Chang-ok and Kim Yong-sik embraced, their happiness seeming genuine. This was likely the kind of scene the South Korean president had envisioned when initiating the policy of reconciliation and cooperation with North Korea.

“I came to introduce a friend.”

“Wow, he looks like a Yankee. Is he Russian? You’re not a spy, are you?”

As expected of a high-ranking official in a dictatorial regime, his instincts were sharp. Oliver felt a surge of anxiety, wondering, ‘Are they going to execute me as a spy if they find out?’ However, Kim Yong-sik responded with a sly grin.

“Haha! This North Korean comrade has a rather cutting sense of humor! This friend was born in the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, eats vodka and rye bread with every meal, and rides a bear he raised instead of a car to be environmentally conscious. He’s a virtuous and polite friend!”

“Wh, what?”

Kim Yong-sik’s explanation was so absurd that Oliver couldn’t help but retort, immediately realizing his mistake. ‘Oops!’ Fortunately, Choi Chang-ok didn’t seem to mind, attributing it to Russian customs.

“Ah, I made a mistake. I apologize to the Russian comrade. Speaking of which, I managed to get my hands on some good liquor at the Jangmadang market [North Korean black market]. How about we have a drink?”

He clicked his tongue twice, a trend that had briefly emerged in South Korea thanks to Korean dramas. This gesture was an invitation to share a drink.

“Oh, what to do? I’d love to drink, but I think it’ll be difficult today since it’s only a half-day.”

“Half-day? Ah, that’s a shame. This is some really expensive liquor.”

He seemed genuinely disappointed, not just teasing. While they were conversing, Oliver, who had remained silent behind Kim Yong-sik, finally spoke.

“Do North Koreans usually like soccer this much?”

Choi Chang-ok blinked, as he didn’t understand Russian. Seeing this, Kim Yong-sik smoothly translated Oliver’s question.

“The World Soccer Championship. So. What is this in South Korean… Ah! Gilty! [Guilty, but he means the World Cup] The World Cup is just around the corner, isn’t it? So soccer is popular in our North Korea.”

Soccer, requiring only a ball and an open space, had quickly gained popularity. With the World Cup approaching, South Korea had deliberately distributed soccer balls to North Korea for free, spreading the sport and its rules.

Moreover, the young had spent their entire lives in servitude, and the old had spent half their lives the same way. It was unrealistic to expect them to suddenly develop hobbies simply because they had free time. The extended leisure time after work often left the North Korean people feeling anxious and lost.

However, this cultural disorientation was fleeting, as the North Korean people rapidly embraced foreign and South Korean cultures.

Among men, soccer was undoubtedly the most popular activity, enjoyed by everyone from children to middle-aged individuals. The elderly were excluded due to the lack of adequate medical care in North Korea.

“Anyway, why did you want to meet Choi Chang-ok?”

Choi Chang-ok frowned, looking puzzled.

“No, this Russian friend really wants to meet General Dongji, doesn’t he?”

The mention of the General immediately made Choi Chang-ok serious. Despite the General’s diminished status, he still wasn’t someone who would meet just anyone.

“…Really? What kind of friend is this Russian friend?”

“This friend is a reporter.”

Oliver, who had learned basic Korean to visit South Korea, widened his eyes at the word “reporter.”

‘No, I came all this way, using dual citizenship and concealing my identity as a reporter, and you’re revealing it now?’ Oliver’s mind was in turmoil, a jumble of English, Russian, and Korean, leaving him speechless with frustration.

“A reporter~?”

Choi Chang-ok was equally dumbfounded, his expression perfectly conveying his bewilderment. Why would Kim Yong-sik bring him a reporter? If he had introduced him as a businessman, he would have accepted it without question, given his relationship with Kim Yong-sik. But a reporter?

“Ah, he’s a friend who holds a very high position at a very famous newspaper in Russia.”

It wasn’t Russia, it wasn’t a famous newspaper, and it wasn’t a high position. Oliver was on the verge of fainting at Kim Yong-sik’s exaggerated explanation, which was as hollow as the Holy Roman Empire.

“A reporter. Did I hear correctly?”

“Yeah, a reporter.”

Choi Chang-ok asked again, double-checking, and Kim Yong-sik confirmed it.

“Really? Is that so?”

Choi Chang-ok, who had been serious moments before, suddenly grinned.

“Good! This Choi Chang-ok will take responsibility and make sure you meet General Dongji!”

Choi Chang-ok even pounded his chest in assurance.

“Haha, I told you I had a way, didn’t I?”

Oliver’s mind struggled to keep up with the rapidly changing situation, feeling completely lost in this unfamiliar environment.

‘Wh, what is this?’

Kim Yong-sik covered his mouth and whispered to Oliver.

“I don’t know about politics, but it seems like he needed a ‘reporter’ right now. Isn’t it a win-win situation?”

Of course, not an American reporter.

“Instead, you have to publish one of my articles.”

“An article?”

“Since the Russian comrade is now in the same boat as me, I’ll have you explain my situation in detail.”

In essence, Choi Chang-ok’s proposition was this: it was obvious that the Kim family’s Juche ideology communist party was doomed, and its absorption and merger were inevitable. Consequently, most communist party members were bribing South Korean congressmen and currying favor.

Choi Chang-ok had already lobbied extensively, but he worried that if something went wrong and the congressmen at the Blue House [South Korean White House] abandoned him, all his efforts would be in vain. How easy is it to maintain power, having reached this position and age?

‘I, Choi Chang-ok, have experience! That’s my selling point.’

So, the great Choi Chang-ok reasoned:

“Yes, what I have to do is win the hearts of the people.”

To be precise, not the hearts of the North Korean people, but the hearts of the South Korean people. South Korean politics might not always revolve around the people, but it certainly reflected their will. This was evident in the congressmen’s fear and flattery of the ‘right to vote,’ a fundamental right of the people.

If the South Korean people fully supported Choi Chang-ok, who knew, he might even secure a seat in the National Assembly after the merger?

“But I’m a Russian reporter?”

While Oliver’s identity as a reporter had been revealed, he was still perceived as Russian for the time being.

“That’s not a big problem. I’ve already found all the South Korean reporters. You’re just one of the many reporters I’ve recruited. I want my name to be known all over the world. As someone who has been working underground to dismantle the Juche ideology dictatorship and introduce capitalism and democracy by siding with the United States and South Korea.”

In other words, he was asking Oliver to write a fabricated article. Even if things went terribly wrong, his retirement wouldn’t be dull. He understood that reputation was paramount in a capitalist society.

In a capitalist society, even an item endorsed by a celebrity commands a premium price, doesn’t it? That’s why Choi Chang-ok decided to proactively implement future countermeasures while his power remained relatively intact.

“How about it? With this, I’ll definitely get you a meeting.”

Oliver began to worry, facing two main concerns. The first was his conscience, as he felt guilty about writing a fabricated article. He could simply make a verbal promise and not write it, but he felt uneasy about deceiving Choi Chang-ok.

The second concern was that this seemed to be the only way to meet Kim Jong-il, who was neither healthy nor recovering. While he might find another way by chance, Oliver wasn’t foolish enough to rely solely on luck.

“I’ll try to embellish it as much as possible.”

Oliver, finally compromising, decided to employ his skills as a reporter, exaggerating a small incident into a major event.

‘But the article will be published in the United States.’

“Good! Maybe it’s because you’re Russian, but you’re very cool. Really!”

Again, he’s American.