George Bush’S Great America [EN]: Chapter 241

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“Hmm, my ears are itching. I guess when you influence the world dozens of times a day, you’re bound to have more people talking about you.”

Bush said it himself, but it felt a bit off, so he cleared his throat awkwardly. The Chief of Staff, who was listening beside him, looked rather exasperated.

“Well, it’s not exactly wrong. Has there ever been a president who wasn’t constantly the subject of gossip?”

That was true. It just felt strange to say it himself. He lacked the ‘shamelessness’ that seemed to come naturally to politicians—not the typical lack of conscience, but the ironclad nerve to take everything for granted.

Generally, ‘shamelessness’ refers to a lack of conscience even when doing wrong, but in this case, it meant not being able to shamelessly boast about his own achievements. It’s not that he was completely devoid of it, but he wasn’t the type to brag in a personal setting, saying, ‘Haha! I’m such an amazing person!’ unlike in public.

“Alright, let’s review the treatment distribution plan again.”

Bush shuffled through the documents as if trying to change the subject. He pushed aside reports on the new standard rifle development plan, which was being openly discussed, and the Land Warrior and Future Soldier projects, which were steadily progressing to accumulate technology. What emerged was a stack of documents so thick it looked like dozens of Chicago-style pizzas piled on top of each other. In fact, it was closer to a tower than a stack.

Since it was a global plan, the cost of mass-producing and transporting the treatment alone was enormous. The only consolation was that the money wasn’t entirely from the national treasury but was collected from various countries.

The problem was that the interests of each country were so intertwined that the amount Bush had to handle increased enormously. This was partly because so much was happening in the world recently, and partly because the projects the president had initiated, such as the infrastructure improvement plan that had been pushed since the beginning of his term, were gradually entering their mid-to-late stages. As a result, his office was in a state too appalling to bear.

The office was half filled with neatly stacked documents and half filled with white cat hair shed by White [the presidential cat], precisely three times the usual amount. No one had ever used the presidential office like this except during wartime, but for Bush, this was everyday life.

Moreover, it was a war of sorts. He was constantly at war with documents. The number of documents he could process at once was increasing day by day, but the enemy was increasing even more. Besides, it wasn’t just simple labor that required moving his body; it was about using his brain to determine the direction of the nation and even the world, so there was no room for slacking off.

“I need to reduce my workload from now on.”

“Are you saying that now?”

“It’s a matter of efficiency. Efficiency. Above all, these issues aren’t something I should be dealing with, are they?”

Like road design problems. Of course, he had asked for them to be brought to him, but who knew they would be brought in such detail? It seemed that, to reduce costs, they had boldly adopted and used a new technology that hadn’t been properly verified. It wasn’t a problem during the initial construction, but as time passed, it was discovered that it was excessively vulnerable to high temperatures compared to conventional asphalt.

It wasn’t a case of shoddy construction for cost reduction or the endemic problem of embezzlement in the United States; it was simply a problem of applying new technology too hastily. It was the fault of the construction company, but the government was also at fault for accepting it.

So, the problem they ultimately faced was the budget. The problem with the new technology and the subsequent investigation were forty-seven pages long, while the main point, the budget issue, was only two pages.

‘Still, it’s fortunate it’s just one road.’

Even though one road was incomparably long compared to those in Korea, it was still something that could be sufficiently managed within the existing budget.

“It seems like only these last two pages would have been necessary if it weren’t for the technical issues.”

Bush muttered as he approved the documents.

“So, please sort this out.”

Bush tapped the ‘twelve thousand eight hundred pages’ of documents with his fountain pen and glared at the Chief of Staff. Most of the documents in Bush’s hands came through the Chief of Staff first. This was also why the Chief of Staff visited the President’s office dozens of times a day.

“I apologize, Mr. President.”

“I’m just wondering. Is it what I’m thinking?”

“Yes, sir. That’s after reducing it by about half.”

‘This is insane.’

“Isn’t the target the entire world? And the investment has been trickling in from all over the world. I expected it to be a lot, but because domestic interests and relationships are intertwined, it’s become this mess…”

The Chief of Staff trailed off. He couldn’t reduce it further due to time constraints, but if he had a little more time, he could have reduced it by half again.

‘I guess the Chief of Staff has been looking at it and reducing it himself? He’s done more than I have. Still, I can’t look at all of this. Should I give the State Department more power?’

The State Department’s autonomous diplomatic function had been half castrated. The President was forcibly taking charge of almost all diplomatic matters, unless they were too minor. Few had questioned this until now, but it was gradually reaching its limit.

“Damn it. Send it to the State Department and have them handle it. The Secretary of State seems to have a lot of complaints anyway.”

“Yes, well. There have been many complaints that only the Bureau of East Asian and Pacific Affairs is doing all the work.”

‘Governing isn’t as difficult as you might think. If you don’t like something, you just tax it or ban it. The problem is enduring the aftermath and side effects.’

For example, if you want to pass on the blue Earth of today to future generations, you can impose a carbon tax. It’s a win-win policy for the government, as it collects taxes and protects the environment, so it might seem appealing.

If you ignore the industrial contraction and the dissatisfaction of capitalists caused by the carbon tax, the decline in competitiveness, the fluctuating fuel prices, and the resulting outflow of skilled workers and the endless drop in the GP [Gross Product] graph.

‘Adjusting this is ultimately my job…’

In fact, politicians fear losing support more than those side effects. Politicians, by their very nature, are a species that can only adopt the method of projecting the opinions of their supporters into the National Assembly to maintain their power. It’s not that they always project only the opinions of their supporters, but that’s the basic principle.

‘Honestly, I don’t care about popularity anymore.’

Once he finished this re-election, he wouldn’t need this high approval rating. He wasn’t going to run for a third term, so what did it matter?

‘The work I have to do won’t change anyway, so it’s all the same in the end.’

Thinking that far, Bush stood up.

“I’m going to lighten your load starting today.”

“Yes?”

“It’s time to return legitimate authority to each department. It just so happens that it’s time to redistribute power.”

“Maybe a natural disaster will happen, and I won’t be re-elected?”

“If a natural disaster occurs, your approval rating will increase, Mr. President.”

This wasn’t flattery; it was genuinely the case. Imagine an earthquake or hurricane destroying an entire city. Then, wouldn’t you have to distribute the prepared relief supplies and start reconstruction?

Now, who was the one who had thoroughly promoted disaster preparedness with a huge budget? It was Bush, wasn’t it? So, whose popularity would rise?

“Maybe I’ll be assassinated.”

“What are you talking about, with a claymore [a type of directional anti-personnel mine] and machine gun attached to that black desk? Assassination? You should worry about whether you can even identify the assassin.”

That was also true. Besides, he wondered if the next president would use this desk as it was. Would they really use this black armory as it is?

“Anyway. Isn’t it obvious what will happen if someone else gets their hands on this power instead of me?”

“That sounds like a dictator’s sense of chosenness, you know?”

“I know. But how can I help it if it’s true?”

He was truly shameless. The Chief of Staff looked puzzled as to why he was so confident in this area when he was so serious about praise. Of course, Bush didn’t think this was something to be proud of, so he spoke confidently.

“I know I’m quite unique and peculiar.”

“That’s true. Especially since you’ve changed so much from before. You weren’t like this at the beginning of your term.”

Bush felt a pang of guilt at those words and turned his eyes to the documents. His attitude and policies had completely changed after the 9/11 terrorist attacks. It was truly because Bush had become half a different person, but he couldn’t say this.

“Just don’t retire and interfere in national affairs. That would be more of a nuisance.”

Bush chuckled as if amused, and a signature was drawn on the document. To get the work done on time, he had to work while talking.

“Even if my face comes up in the media later, it’ll probably be about how a baseball player is doing. I have no intention of interfering in national affairs. Why would I?”

“Do you already have retirement plans? Like becoming the owner of the Texas Rangers again, like before?”

“Well, I’ll probably live like that.”

“I don’t know. I think a little differently.”

“What do you mean?”

Bush glanced at the Chief of Staff as if puzzled. The Chief of Staff hesitated whether to voice his thoughts or not but decided not to. The answer he would get back would be too obvious.

‘If the next president makes a mistake after retirement, he’ll probably bash them in the media, saying it’s a mess.’

There have been former presidents who have expressed doubts or negations metaphorically in interviews, but this guy likes to be so direct that he might fill an interview with just curses. Most likely. No, definitely. The Chief of Staff seemed to see a future that hadn’t even arrived yet.

“It’s nothing. Then I’ll reclassify the documents and return them to each department.”

“Do so.”

As the Chief of Staff made a phone call, people came in and began to move the documents to each department.

‘It’ll take a while just to move them. It’ll take even longer for them to come back.’

Still, now was the right time to release the power that had been concentrated to an excessive degree again. If he missed this opportunity, Bush predicted that he would exceed the range he could handle.

“And right, what happened to that?”

When Bush said ‘that,’ there were hundreds of candidates, but the Chief of Staff managed to intuitively understand what Bush was trying to say through years of experience.

“If it’s ‘that,’ are you perhaps talking about expanding those relief supplies?”