TL: Skye
On the way back from the broadcast station, I asked Isabella, who was behind the wheel.
"Who should I appoint as Martial Law Commander? Has someone already been agreed upon?"
If declaring martial law was Step A, then appointing a Martial Law Commander and bringing the Martial Law Forces into Libertad to maintain order was Step B. Step C would be stabilizing public security and then identifying and punishing whoever was behind the terror attack, and Step D would conclude with holding elections to transfer power.
What about Step E? Everything from E onward had nothing to do with me.
'By then, I'll already be on a plane to Korea.'
I figured once I made it back to Korea, whether San Marcos collapsed or not would be none of my business, but...
"Before appointing a Martial Law Commander, we first need to secure a military force that will side with you, Acting President."
"Hm...?"
What was she talking about now?
"Why?"
"Because... in a situation like this, it wouldn't be surprising if a coup happened."
"...This is insane."
They say your IQ goes up when survival instincts kick in.
I understood what Isabella was saying immediately.
San Marcos had been under a dictator's rule for over fifty years, making it a country where dictatorship was as natural as oxygen to its citizens.
Now that the dictator of such a country was dead, a military coup was practically inevitable. A significant number of generals were probably suffering from a case of [Maybe it's my turn?] syndrome right now.
Moreover, throughout history, heads of state who failed to prevent coups met miserable ends.
Here's the question.
In this situation, who was the head of state?
It's me!
'If I'm not careful, I'll end up dragged off to prison...!'
And there was plenty of justification for it, too.
The only cabinet member to survive the explosion just happened to be a foreigner?
That was perfect conditions for framing someone as a terror suspect.
In the end, there was only one answer. I had to follow Isabella's advice and do everything in my power to get through this crisis.
"S-so which military unit should we get on our side?"
Sensing my resolve, she offered her advice carefully.
"We need to win over the Armored Division stationed near Libertad. If we succeed, the other generals won't be able to entertain any second thoughts."
"The Armored Division is enough?"
"The San Marcos Army consists of 35,000 troops total, organized into two Infantry Divisions, one Artillery Brigade, and one Armored Division. However, the Armored Division is the only one with a significant number of tanks and military helicopters."
"Ah... then that would definitely do it."
Made sense. You can't exactly throw marines at a tank in siege mode.
"But will the Division Commander side with us?"
"No."
"No."
Then why even bring it up?
"However, I believe there's a good chance of taking control of the Armored Division."
"What? If the Division Commander isn't on our side, how would we..."
"Major General Thiago, the Armored Division Commander, has been loyal to President Juan for a long time."
"Then we appeal to that loyalty and persuade him to join our..."
"No. The most threatening person right now is Major General Thiago himself. He's always dreamed of becoming someone like President Juan."
"......"
"We need to persuade Brigade Commander Pedro, not Division Commander Thiago. He leads the Armored Division's core combat forces, and he's long wished for reform in San Marcos. If we can persuade him properly, he might stand with you, Acting President."
"Even if we persuade Brigade Commander Pedro, wouldn't it be useless if the Division Commander is still around?"
"As soon as we persuade him, we arrest Major General Thiago on charges of rebellion."
In other words, we had to stage a coup to prevent a coup.
"...This won't be easy."
"We have to succeed regardless. For the sake of preventing civil war in San Marcos."
"Alright. Then let's head back to the residence first and contact Brigade Commander Pedro—"
Isabella's eyes, fixed on the steering wheel, blazed with intensity.
"No. Brigade Commander Pedro isn't someone who can be persuaded over the phone. Besides, Major General Thiago is likely keeping a tight watch on all the field-grade officers in the division right now."
"Then what?"
"We have no choice but to go in person."
"You just said Division Commander Thiago has ambitions. If I show up now, won't he try to capture and kill me?"
Isabella nodded as she answered.
"There's a saying in your country, Acting President. To catch a tiger, you must enter the tiger's cave."
"...So you're telling me to risk my life going in there to persuade Brigade Commander Pedro?"
"No. I'll handle persuading Brigade Commander Pedro. While I'm doing that, you need to meet with Division Commander Thiago and buy us time."
"If the persuasion fails... what happens to me?"
"I'll do my absolute best."
"Sometimes doing your absolute best isn't enough."
"Then I'll do even more than my best."
"No, I mean, don't you have a backup plan in case things go wrong?"
"My plan is to do even more than more than my best."
Watching her answer, I realized something.
'This woman has no backup plan...!'
No matter how urgent things were, this was too much. I'd rather swim across the Caribbean like Cho Oh-ryeon crossed the Korea Strait than walk into that place like a madman.
"Isabella, stop the car right now."
"I can't."
"Now!"
"I won't."
"I could actually die if we go there!"
"Don't worry. If that happens, I'll die too, so your journey won't be lonely."
"No."
What was she, a drowning ghost trying to drag me down with her?
"And..."
Isabella gestured ahead with her chin.
"We've already arrived."
A large sign reading Capital Defense Armored Division welcomed me.
***
Identity verification began the moment we arrived.
Once the soldiers confirmed that the Acting President—me—and the Presidential Chief of Staff Isabella were in the car, they immediately saluted and then began what felt less like an escort and more like surveillance.
Entering the Division Headquarters with the soldiers, we passed through long corridors and several flights of stairs before arriving at the Division Commander's Office, where the hulking Major General Thiago rose to greet us.
"Welcome."
He wasn't particularly tall, but his massive frame easily exceeded 120 kilograms. When he approached and clapped my shoulder, a dull pain spread through me.
"To lose President Juan... How could such a terrible day come to pass!"
His voice sounded grief-stricken. But he couldn't fool me—I'd played Servant #3 in Romeo and Juliet back in high school, thanks to my outstanding acting skills.
'He's acting.'
His eyes were crying, but his mouth was smiling.
I forced myself to maintain a calm expression.
"I understand how you feel, Division Commander. But... we don't have time to grieve. We must act as quickly as possible to overcome this national crisis."
"I understand."
He nodded.
"Could you ask everyone to step out for a moment? This matter is so important that I'd like to speak with you privately."
"Of course. Everyone, leave us."
"Is there any chance our conversation might be overheard through the door?"
"That's possible. Have them wait on another floor entirely."
The aides saluted and exited. Once we were alone, Thiago naturally settled deep into the seat of honor on the sofa.
"So, Yu-jin. Or should I say 'Acting President Yu-jin' now?"
Not a single gram of the grief from moments ago remained in his voice.
'Just as I thought, his true colors are showing immediately.'
Isabella had better succeed in persuading Pedro.
The thought that I could die if things went wrong made my heart drop to the soles of my feet.
"So, what did you want to discuss?"
But what could I do? I was already in the tiger's den, and if I didn't keep my wits about me, I was going to get eaten.
'Alright, you can do this. You've got this!'
I channeled the spirit of Zhang Fei facing Cao Cao's army at Changban Bridge and looked Thiago straight in the eye.
And then.
"Please spare me."
I dropped to my knees, projecting an aura of power.
"......"
Thiago looked bewildered. For the finishing touch, I crawled toward him on my knees, maintaining my dignified aura.
"I'm terrified."
"T-terrified? I don't understand what you mean."
"Do you think I don't know what's happening? I came here knowing full well that the generals are on the verge of staging a coup."
"Ahem... Well, that may be true... but this is quite unexpected."
"I'll do anything if you spare me. If you want the Acting President position, I'll hand it over and leave the country."
"Well, I wasn't asking for that much... but this is awkward. Have a seat for now."
I sat on the sofa and began my lament.
"What do I know about any of this? I only came to San Marcos because President Juan offered me a position, and I've just been doing my job as minister. I don't need power. To be honest, you know this too, don't you, General? That I have no interest in power."
"Hmm, come to think of it, I've never heard rumors of you building any kind of faction."
"Honestly, I only came here because they promised me a job. Ian completely duped me."
"For someone who was duped, you certainly worked hard."
"I'm getting paid a salary. I can't slack off. You have to earn what you're paid."
"An admirable attitude for a public servant. I can see why the late President entrusted you with a ministerial position."
"What good is that now? Look at this mess."
I gazed at Thiago—whose physique made it unclear whether he was a soldier or a WWE wrestler—with the most pitiful eyes I could muster.
"...So here's the thing. Are you interested in becoming president?"
"Ahem! Hmm! Well..."
Acting embarrassed when he probably issued combat readiness orders to the division the moment he heard the news.
"If that's your intention, I'll support you, General."
"Support me? How exactly?"
"First, I'll appoint you as Martial Law Commander. Then, while you carry out your duties, we hold elections at an appropriate time, and you become president."
"If there's an election, other candidates will run too."
"As you know, San Marcos has only one broadcast network—the public broadcaster SMBC. Your face will be on screen all day long. What's there to worry about?"
"Hmm, but these days a lot of people seem to be using smartphones."
"During the martial law period, I'll shut down the telecom frequencies. By election day, the citizens probably won't even know the names of other candidates."
"...You're bolder than I thought."
"Please think of me as a pathetic human being who'll do anything to survive."
"It's certainly a good idea. Is this what they mean by educated people being different? Ian brought over quite the genius."
"Hehehe, you flatter me."
"But here's the thing."
The smile vanished from Thiago's eyes.
"Why don't I just arrest you and take the presidency myself?"
"......"
"Once you hold one election, you have to keep holding them. I want to be president for life, like President Juan. What do you think?"
"There will be considerable public backlash."
"The people are no better than livestock. They'll bark for a while and then quiet down."
Thiago, spouting lines I felt like I'd heard somewhere before, pulled a pistol from his waist.
"Don't worry too much. I'll drag out the trial a bit and wrap things up with deportation."
"......"
There was no way that was true. The universal truth was that if you didn't want to take the blame yourself, you needed a scapegoat. He was obviously going to frame me as a terror suspect and pin everything on me.
'Damn it.'
Thiago released the safety and aimed at me.
"What do you think? Of my idea."
Just as I was swallowing hard, I remembered the USB I'd taken from the Presidential Palace.
'What if I use this...?'
Like the actor I was, a story to escape this crisis formed in my mind.
"Wait! Look at this first."
I pulled out the case containing the USB from my pocket and showed it to him.
"...What is that?"
"A USB containing information about a billion-dollar slush fund account that President Juan entrusted to me. The password is in my head."
"Why should I believe that?"
"No matter how close I was to his son, why do you think the President gave a ministerial position to a foreigner like me? It was so I could handle things like this."
"That can't be... actually, that makes sense."
"You'll need this money to seize power. What will it be? Let me go and take the slush fund? Or keep me and give up the money?"
"I could just take it from you."
Thiago, eyes clouded with greed, stomped toward me.
I didn't stay still either—I vaulted over the sofa and put distance between us.
"This USB is useless by itself. You need a password to withdraw money from the Panama bank account."
"You think I can't make you talk? A few rounds with a club in the basement prison and you won't last a minute. Quit the bluffing."
He was right. I hadn't received any special training, and if I was dragged to prison and tortured, I had no way to hold out.
But right now, stalling for time like this was my only chance of survival.
"If you come any closer, I'll destroy the USB."
"Go ahead and try. The account number is in your head anyway. I'll just get it along with the password."
"The documents required for withdrawal are also on this USB. Without them, you'll never get the slush fund."
"You bastard!"
Convinced by my perfect acting, Thiago lunged at me. Fortunately, he was so overweight that I managed to evade him by keeping the sofa between us.
"Hey! I'll destroy it if you come closer!"
"If you destroy it, you die too!"
Thiago, reading my psychology perfectly, kept charging at me with his massive body.
"I'm really going to break it!"
"Huff, huff! Give it... here!"
Running this way and that. Dashing toward the door, dodging toward the window, playing tag with the sofa between us.
He chased me relentlessly for the billion dollars (a lie) while I ran for my life, like some Tom and Jerry cartoon.
'Isabella, please...'
About ten minutes into our chase, Thiago, apparently frustrated, tried to vault over the sofa by stepping on it.
"Eeek!"
But his body was simply too heavy—his foot sank deep into the cushion, preventing him from clearing it. His leg caught on the backrest, and he fell headfirst.
Crack!
The sound of something breaking came and,
"Gurgle..."
Thiago's neck bent at an impossible angle, and the focus faded from his eyes.
"What the? Shit."