Chapter 86
***
John Hopkins.
A man from the American West, he was immensely popular among farmers, ranchers, dairy farmers, and lumberjacks.
He owned a huge farm in the West and had used the wealth it produced to become governor.
But he still called himself a farmer and usually devoted himself to working his own land.
A lobbyist from Heriti Pesticides, who had come to see him, was speaking earnestly.
"For someone like you, Governor, working for the farmers is practically a blessing to us. The new pesticide our company has developed is thirty percent cheaper than existing pesticides."
Not only that, but considering its safety as well, it would certainly help the farmers.
He was confident, and the materials left no room for criticism.
"You want me to promote the use of this pesticide throughout Oregon?"
"That's right. If this pesticide allows farmers to earn more, won't that support translate into support for you, Governor?"
"Hmm..."
It wasn't a bad proposal.
Lately, people had been saying that the farmers needed a fresh face.
Honestly, it was unfair.
How much effort had he put into protecting the farmers' rights?
And now they were trying to throw him away like this.
The farmers didn't understand the Eastern proverb that the old hand was better than the new one in the slightest.
"Fine. Let's do that."
In any case, the pesticide had been thoroughly tested.
So this would become his new base of support.
Of course, he would show them a little sincerity.
That, too, would become seed money for the orphanages and nurseries he ran,
and for helping the poor.
He spoke confidently.
"But I want you to make one thing absolutely clear. This pesticide must improve the lives of the farmers."
"We'll keep that in mind."
After he left, his secretary, Simon, said cautiously,
"Governor, the pesticide is important, but preparing for the typhoon is important too."
"Preparing for a typhoon? We've already made preparations."
"That's true, but..."
"Right now, this pesticide is more important. If we can put it to proper use, the farmers' profits will increase dramatically."
"....."
"Don't worry. A friend of mine at the National Weather Service says this year's typhoons won't be very strong."
Simon didn't say, "Governor, do you trust the National Weather Service?"
After all, as the governor had said, if a farmer couldn't trust the weather service, whom could he trust?
As his secretary, all he could do was follow the governor's orders.
And some time later.
A massive typhoon three times larger than the previous year's swept across more than half of Oregon.
John did his best to clean up the aftermath.
But.
To the people who had already lost so much after being caught in the typhoon, that wasn't very important.
***
"...A typhoon..."
"Let's discuss the details later."
Leaving the flustered Simon behind, we went straight to have fun.
.
.
.
We played until closing again that day.
We had just arrived at the parking lot to return to the hotel when
Mr. Simon, whom we'd met that morning, was waiting for us.
"Mr. Kang. Do you have a moment?"
"Yes. I knew you'd come."
"The governor has invited you to dinner. If it isn't a problem, would you join us?"
"Sure. Ms. Yu-na, is that all right?"
"I don't mind..."
"Then let's go. Is that all right with the rest of you, too?"
Mr. Cheolhon, Linda, and JJ all nodded.
Following Simon, we arrived at a famous restaurant in Los Angeles.
When we went inside, we found an old man with a grave expression.
He was a farmer.
Although he was the governor, his deeply sunburned, weathered face and hands, along with his broad shoulders, made him look more like a farmer battling the land than a politician.
"Mr. Kang. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm John Hopkins."
"I'm Kang Noah."
Both he and I communicated through interpreters, but it wasn't particularly inconvenient.
"Shall we start by turning over a card?"
He swallowed hard and turned over the card.
Then, without even looking at what had appeared, he hurriedly asked,
"Is it true that a typhoon is coming to Oregon?"
"Yes. It will be powerful enough to be called a super typhoon. The one fortunate thing is that only about half of Oregon will suffer damage."
"......"
He stared blankly at me like a beaver that had lost its home.
"How should I... How should I deal with it?"
"You shouldn't ask me that. I have nothing to say. I'm neither a farmer nor a governor."
That typhoon would inflict massive damage on half of Oregon.
The people would look for someone to blame, and naturally, that person would be Governor John, the politician in charge.
"I have only one thing to tell you. Prepare. And help them get back on their feet. That's all."
Countless farms would collapse.
Farmers buried in debt would leave their hometowns or become impoverished.
In John's future, he failed to help them properly.
"...This isn't the time to be concerning ourselves with pesticides."
John spoke weakly, letting out a heavy sigh.
Recently, the farmers who had been his strongest supporters were backing a young gubernatorial candidate who promised to increase their profits.
To counter him, John had been planning to propose a new farming method and make it his own achievement.
"It seems to me that you should choose something else as your weapon, Governor. You have many other projects underway, don't you?"
"....."
"You spend your own money caring for orphans, strive to eliminate poverty, and are even trying to develop rural areas and farming communities."
"...But there must be many people who dislike that."
"What you've built won't betray you."
Yes.
If he stopped wavering as governor, put down firm roots, and continued doing his work,
the people of Oregon wouldn't betray him.
"Don't consider him a threat. Do what you have to do. That's the answer."
"Huh."
He let out a hollow sigh.
He had realized that changing course because he felt threatened by the gubernatorial candidate had ultimately been a pointless blunder.
At that moment, the future changed.
From a future in which he lost the election while being cursed at by the people caught in the massive typhoon,
to a future in which he stood alone against the city council and prepared for the typhoon,
then fought various insurance companies on behalf of the farmers affected by the typhoon and secured aid even while opposing the federal government,
and went on to win the next gubernatorial election by a landslide, earning the assessment that there still wasn't anyone quite like John.
"Mr. Kang. I'm glad I met you. If it weren't for you..."
"It's because you've lived well up to now, Governor. If you'd been a piece of human garbage who only craved power, I wouldn't have met you either."
The John I'd seen in Simon's past had been a good enough man.
As governor, he wanted people to live better rather than seeking power and profit.
Helping someone like that was only natural, wasn't it?
"Hahaha. Goodness. You're truly a desirable person, Mr. Kang. Why are you Korean?"
"Who knows?"
"Would you consider becoming an American?"
"Hahaha. America's gun laws are a little frightening."
"Someone as capable as you should be able to avoid such things, shouldn't you? Mr. Kang, let me make you an offer. Will you become an American?"
"I haven't considered it yet."
He was terribly disappointed.
If I had said I would become an American, he had been planning to give me not just permanent residency but citizenship, along with a mansion and a farm in Oregon.
I was very grateful for his consideration.
Of course, country life would be fun.
But I didn't want to live somewhere without even a convenience store or a café in front of my house.
"Hah... Goodness. What a shame."
"Hahaha. Still, now that we've formed a connection, there may come a day when I can help you again. Here's my phone number."
"Oh...!!"
After receiving the note I'd given him, he immediately saved the number in his phone.
Then he grinned.
"Dinner is on me tonight. Eat as much as you like."
"I eat a lot, so brace yourself."
"Hahaha. If you eat that much, you should visit my farm sometime. My wife is an excellent cook..."
I could believe that.
.
.
.
On our way out after eating our fill at the restaurant,
John had an arm around my shoulders as naturally as if we'd become close friends.
"Hahaha!! Brother! It's such a shame to part like this. You must visit my farm. Next time you come to America, stay a little longer, too!"
"Sure. I'll think about it."
I still couldn't get used to that booming voice being transformed into Han Yu-na's soft, quiet tone.
"Next time we meet, I'll make sure to practice my Korean."
"Oh. That sounds good."
"I'm actually very smart. Farming is the family business, so I worked as a farmer, but..."
He'd been drinking wine and brandy like a fish today, so he was completely drunk.
John kept rambling with a bright-red face before finally dropping his head.
Judging by the snoring, he seemed to have fallen asleep.
As his guards supported him, Simon gave a bitter smile.
"Thank you very much for today."
"I wish you success. And you too, Mr. Simon..."
"Yes?"
"You're thinking of running in the next House of Representatives election, aren't you?"
"Haha... Yes."
"If you continue as you are now, you'll be elected."
"...Thank you."
His face brightened at once.
After he grinned, said goodbye, and walked away, Han Yu-na smiled.
"Even the governor of an American state has recognized how incredible you are, Mr. Noah. At this rate, are you really going to move to America?"
"Hahaha..."
Honestly, America was too frightening, so I'd have to decline.
It was hard enough to go to a convenience store at night.
.
.
.
Several days passed after we returned to Korea.
Nothing special happened.
So I spent my days without doing anything special either.
"Phew."
At last, I'd equipped my third Dunsa character with top-grade gear in every slot.
Now I could try outfitting my fourth character with top-grade gear...
-Buzzzzz!!
My phone rang.
When I checked, it was Producer Jang U-gyeong.
"Hello?"
-Hahaha! Mr. Kang! It's me, Jang U-gyeong! If you're free, would you come out? Chicken's on me!
Oh. Chicken.
I couldn't resist chicken.
I happened to be hungry, too, so this worked out perfectly.
I went straight outside, and when I arrived at the meeting place, Jang U-gyeong was sitting there alone.
"Wow!! Mr. Kang! It's been a long time!"
"It has. Have you been well?"
"Of course! What would you like?"
"Let's have fried chicken."
"Yes! Let's order!!"
He ordered with a broad smile.
Then he sipped his beer with puffed rice crackers as a snack.
"It looks like you just came from an appointment?"
"I went to meet a friend. We met near Jongno."
"Oh-ho. I see. Well, shall we turn over a card for old times' sake?"
When I said that with a smile, he immediately turned over a card.
It was the Jack of Hearts.
"How is it??"
"You're going to get a call soon."
That was when it happened.
Jang U-gyeong's phone rang, and he looked bewildered after answering it.
"What? You're doing that now...? No. Anyway, we'll talk later."
"That was your classmate, wasn't it?"
After ending the call, Jang U-gyeong remained bewildered, then let out a deep sigh and set his phone down beside him.
"Ha. I really can't fool you, can I, Teacher? Yes, it was my classmate. He's a producer in TBM's variety department right now."
TBM was a fairly large cable network.
"Apparently, they're putting together some strange variety show..."
"They're gathering shamans, fortune-tellers, prophets, and people like that for a variety show, aren't they?"
"As expected of you, Teacher...!!"
I smiled and told him,
"Tell him not to do it."
"...Will something bad happen?"
In any case, he seemed worried about his friend.
At Jang U-gyeong's serious question, I shook my head.
"He'll fail."
"....."
"And fail spectacularly. Its ratings will be lower than the national anthem."