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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 26
Chapter Title: Executive Order 9066, Camp Roberts (2)
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For quite a while by the in-game timeline, nothing particularly noteworthy happened. At most, there were minor supply missions, and they didn't come with any major threats.
During this time, Winter completed his officer training and strengthened the community's unity.
It wasn't much of an officer training, truth be told. In a crisis, there's no way administration would function properly.
The tent where Winter sought out in the refugee zone was even more crowded with people than before. A long line had formed of those who couldn't get in, squatting or milling about near the entrance. As Winter approached, they all surged toward him with a murmur. Each one probably had some favor to ask, or some bad news in their gut. Winter gripped the handle of his pistol and held out his other hand, palm open.
"Sorry, but please don't come too close."
They reacted with fear, but most understood. In this camp, anyone would be on guard if a stranger approached. It was a world where people died all too easily. Even the few with poor comprehension swallowed hard at the sight of the pistol and backed off.
Even in a refugee zone rife with murders, killing someone openly in broad daylight wouldn't go unpunished—but Winter was different. At least, that's how the refugees saw it.
Jang Yeoncheol, waiting at the entrance, greeted Winter with a bright smile.
"Come on in, Little Boss."
"Little Boss" was apparently becoming Winter's exclusive nickname. Everyone called him that now. It wasn't bad. He liked hearing it himself.
The atmosphere inside the tent had changed a lot from before. If Winter had seemed somewhat detached previously, now he was like the weight anchoring the center. The moment he entered, silence fell. A light tension hung in the air. Authority and respect. But no fear.
It was good. With all eyes on the boy, there were no more distrustful gazes. Occasionally, there were competitive stares, but when their eyes met, the others looked away first. Whatever they felt inside, for now, they accepted him.
He had spent a long time crafting what to say to them. Reviewing the "textbook," preparing lines, practicing in his head many times. It would make for good viewing for the audience too, he believed. Nerves tightened, but he didn't show it.
Acting was exhausting.
For those who still weren't smiling, Winter gave them one of his own.
"Everyone, did you have a tasty breakfast?"
Smiling replies bloomed here and there, harmonizing nicely. They had brightened up considerably. In every sense—their expressions, their complexions, their cleanliness.
Among the refugees, the most influential individual—under Winter's protection—meant no other group could touch them recklessly. No need anymore for contrived shabbiness or deliberate dirtiness as self-defense.
Especially the women had been terrifying. With survival instincts suppressing their longing for beauty now released, regardless of age, they washed and groomed with such fervor. He'd seen it many times across countless runs, but it was still hard to get used to. A man's limitation. Still, it was nice to look at.
Before full operations began, they needed to settle on a name for the community. As leader, with his power share solidified, he could now execute the system's community management rights. He'd told them to think of a good name.
He could have decided unilaterally and announced it, but this way suited him better. It fit the character of the community he wanted to build. Everyday events accumulated, building that much influence on the members. It couldn't be ignored.
A community's name also affected members' psychology, community traits, and external image in itself. Not something to dismiss lightly.
"Everyone, have you thought about what I mentioned? Our group's name."
Replies poured out in a rush. Winter raised his hand to calm them.
"Sorry, it's too chaotic. If you want to speak, raise your hand."
Everyone shot up their hands. From the boy's observant eye, it wasn't so much good ideas as... a desire to stand out. A gentle side of power. Fine by him. He'd adopt any good ones. Winter met each gaze and called names one by one. A virtue of soft leadership.
The first called made a vigorous proposal.
"I propose 'Provisional Government of the Republic of Korea' as the proud name for our organization!"
The crowd let out an "ooh" and laughed. Not mockery. A wave of positivity. Too grand for fewer than a hundred people, but for those feeling the sorrow of being countrymen far from home, the nostalgia for their homeland was... immense. Winter tilted his head ambiguously.
"Provisional Government of the Republic of Korea? Isn't that too grandiose? And I hear the Korean government is still hanging on. Others might laugh."
"Aw... You have to aim big for great results. How about 'Korean National Party' then?"
Another proposal, but still in the same vein as the provisional government. Both independence groups founded around Kim Gu, with the Korean National Party as the provisional government's ruling party.
A name heavy with national or ethnic flavor would help attract Korean refugees and foster solidarity. Of course, the downside: harder to accept foreigners, easier to face hostility from nationalist groups.
Even among Korean groups, harmony wasn't guaranteed. Power struggles would arise.
"Better to avoid that kind of name. We need responsible people, and they're rare. If they exist, I want them regardless of nationality. I don't want to reject someone for coming from another country, hate them for different skin, or ignore them for unfamiliar speech."
He paused for breath, then continued.
"If they can help each other, I want to accept anyone and endure these hard days together. If you really want it, no choice... but since you chose to join me, I'd like you to understand me."
Winter hadn't always been this eloquent. His first time in this world, he was just a boy of unripe age.
But it was virtual reality. A playful imitation of reality. Under the premise of a well-crafted imitation, most real-world lessons could be learned here too. Accumulated runs equaled rich life experience. Time enough for thoughts to ripen. Ripe thoughts could now be voiced without shame.
Ahead of the public broadcast, he'd studied a lot.
Really, a lot.
Had the effort paid off? Reactions were positive. Some were moved to tears. He hadn't thought it that touching. Context influences people greatly. Could be favorability bonuses too. Viewer messages were mostly good. Praising the boy's acting. Like watching a movie.
Murmurs from outside the tent reached him. Enhanced senses from various skills picked up every word clearly.
Eavesdroppers were fine. After naming, gossip would spread, but nothing too damaging. More importantly, other groups knowing Winter was the center of this small community was advantageous.
"If that's the intent, how about something simple and clear like 'Union'? Foreigners won't find it strange, no ethnic or national tint."
Some nodded in agreement. Winter hadn't expected anything grand, so he nodded.
"I'll consider it a candidate. I'll hear more and decide."
At the little leader's positive response, those waiting raised hands more eagerly. Just tensing their upright arms, but watching was amusing.
When a young man proposed "Brotherhood," a woman grumbled, "Include women too." Laughter erupted again; she laughed too, saying it was a joke. The young man scratched his head sheepishly. Winter said he'd consider it too.
A woman holding a nursing infant spoke up. "Children of Tomorrow." Coming from a parent, it carried weight. The one whose husband had joined the Damul Prosperity Society and taken a new woman, abandoning her. First seen, she'd looked decades older, bones stark; now she looked young again. Her cracked voice had regained its tone. Good. She'd sound nice singing.
Amid it all, someone flustered Winter.
"'Winter Alliance'?"
He double-checked, thinking he'd misheard, but she nodded vigorously. Awkward. Sounded like a gang named after boss Heedong—Heedong faction. Korean gang names were police inventions, different case, but still.
But the elderly speaker explained another reason.
"I call this precarious time humanity's winter. Hoping spring will surely come someday. 'Winter Alliance' fits uniting to endure the cold season."
He adjusted his cracked glasses on one side.
"Of course, it's fun seeing our shy Little Boss embarrassed."
Winter covered his face as cheers exploded.
Proposals like "Kvjeta"—Esperanto for peace, quiet, stability—or "Chicago Abyss" from some novel about humanity's last civilization hold—were good, but none surpassed "Winter Alliance" in support.
Soon hands lowered; no one waited their turn. Eyes sparkled with joy across ages and genders. So pure it was burdensome to meet.
"Got it. Okay."
The boy leader raised his hand in surrender.
"I lose. From today, we're the 'Winter Alliance.'"
Cheers poured. Viewer messages filled with laughter. Amusing, apparently. Stars trickled in—small amounts. Grateful. People liking the boy as is.
Unintended face-selling name, but result wasn't bad. Members would reminisce this moment often.
Eavesdroppers' words to other groups were predictable. Vastly different from their coercive atmospheres. Hardliners would see it as weakness. But it would sway some; profit-loss hinged on Winter's capability.
"Everyone, pay attention a moment."
He clapped to gather focus. Silence fell quickly. Noisy ones got poked by neighbors to shut up.
Now the tough part. Hope preparation and practice sufficed. Before the quiet crowd, Winter began.
"Now that we have a name, we need to agree on one more important thing. Our organization's decision-making process... We can't decide everything haphazardly each time, right?"
The boy eyed changes in the community traits and management screen visible only to him, then continued.
"I'll share my thoughts first. Ideally, I'd decide all our joint matters basically."
The majority, swayed by the little leader, nodded. It had been that way practically. And they relied on the boy one-sidedly.
The dissenting minority split into rational ones wanting consensus on everything, and emotional ones refusing to accept the boy.
He read them easily.
"I know. Dictatorial, right? But gathering opinions every time is realistically impossible. Not hard—impossible. Odds of everyone being present at key moments are low, right?"
More nods. His support and power share on the management screen curved slightly upward. Could vote now, but he'd push more. Needed a provocative word. What?
A system assist keyword caught his eye.
"You all guess it: America wants to use us as meat shields."
Meat shields. Good jab; expected reactions followed. Unease. Aiming at it, Winter drove in realistic words.
"Mercenaries fed just enough, foreigners needing no hazard pay... Think: why package me as hero? Because I am one? No. Idol-making. Billboard promising rewards for obedience."
Self-deprecation can build authority. Key was confident demeanor. Lay out reality plainly, but vow not to leave it. Show vision-confidence. Whether it succeeds or not, leaders must brim with belief. Great politicians mastered this, good or evil aside.
Subtle balance, adjusted reading faces.
"Those feeding us won't care about your thoughts. They'll demand my decision: do it or not. How to get your permission every time?"
No need for proof. Just avoid such situations.
In communication, words matter less than voice—tone, pitch, inflection, emphasis—and body language. Mehrabian's rule.
Winter's rhetoric: studied meticulously for broadcast staging. He was the lead actor. To play leader, learn the role. Immerse, act.
Become the not-I me.
Gestures syncing with rising emotion, intensifying appeal.
"In short, realistically, no choice. If you don't accept this, I can't take full responsibility. Seeing what I've shown, just trust me. If you think I'll abuse power to make you miserable, or can't trust my judgments as leader, say end it here. Easier for me too. But if not, trust me."
Emphasize inevitability, leader terms. Make clear what they're choosing. Gave choice, but formal. Formality mattered. Positive responses grew. Among fervent gazers, leadership penalty vanished.
Overcome. Boy read, guessed, confirmed people.
Time to nail it. Learned ones ended strong shouts. Winter didn't.
Here, his way. Kind smile.
"How about it? Will you?"
Restrained emotion, concise words. Signal to eager audience. He was buried in deafening cheers. Everywhere, applauding, fixated stares. Good or bad.
Inner sigh of relief. Went well.
The glasses man from "Winter Alliance" raised hand.
"Something to say to all."
Given prior speech, not bad. Winter permitted.
"Go ahead."
He stood, bowed politely around, extra nod to Winter. Not servile. Proud eyes. Intelligence without moral lines. Winter guessed his type.
"First, deep thanks to our Little Boss for all efforts. You know: many didn't accept you before. I didn't either—truly ashamed. Some still don't, I think."
Pausing, gentleman smiles around. Avoiders or hard-glarers matched Winter's earlier filters.
"But now, finally feel like true family. Not just Little Boss, everyone here. Before you, just group of unaffiliated folks. Temporary fellow sufferers. Right?"
Assenters. This man had influence pre-Winter. If Winter insecure, he'd have hidden till end.
As inviter, Jang Yeoncheol looked uneasy. Winter understood why.
Groups beyond leadership cap weaken bonds, cause issues. One fix: elevate leadership figures as officers. Sub-communities within common.
People: tools better or worse by handling.
"We erred undervaluing Little Boss. Not couldn't—didn't. Young, so underestimated; thought to use hastily. At least me. Many like me. So, what I propose:"
Pause, lower voice.
"Don't repeat mistake. We chose to follow. No take-backs. No waver. In my view, no one in alliance—or camp—surpasses Little Boss. Lacks courage. Embarrassing, but we're substance-less adults. Few uglier than craving respect by age. Discard useless pride. If we can't help others with Boss's courage, at least."
Improvised to here: real talent. Winter assessed him. Also his goal. Felt flattery, not excessive.
Indeed, as majority agreed, some eyed him warily. Winter saw it fine. Better than seeing him rival. With Winter solid, ambitious vied for No.2.
"Boss's demands aren't excessive. Even democracies grant presidents emergency powers in crises. Seizures, total mobilization. Same context. Humanity's winter, right? Strong leader authority natural. Especially self-invited leader."
Applause. Goal achieved, he wrapped satisfyingly.
"That's my piece. If okay, for alliance's path forward... Boss, a word? Day you truly become Boss. Can't miss inauguration speech. Right?"
Winter smiled awkwardly. No more prep. Becoming not-I enough for today.
But no declining. Passive before admirers/expectants would fizzle. Reason some prefer watching over playing world. Tech/econ issues too.
"Won't speak long."
Nodding boy continued, pondering words but face kindly.
"'Winter Alliance's top priority: survival. But I'll take harder path than mere survival. Unlike beasts outside, we want human lives. Um, believe that?"
Ended with smile.
"That's it."
Some wept, overly immersed. Mostly women, but red-eyed men easy to spot.
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