[The characters, places, organizations, events, and so forth appearing in this work bear no relation to reality and are fictional creations born of the author’s imagination.]
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“They say he’s passed through the main gate. But Henry, you seem to think very highly of that actor-turned-politician?”
At Bart’s question, Henry answered with a curious smile on his lips.
“Bart, there are times when a single intuition is more accurate than a stack of complicated analytical reports. My intuition told me that man will soon become the master of Washington. Behind his smile is the scent of the American Dream that can set the masses alight. People are tired of tedious policy battles now. What they want instead is a powerful icon. Reagan is the only person who can perform that perfectly. Now, let’s prepare to receive our guest. The future president is at our door.”
“The future president who hasn’t even declared his candidacy yet, you mean? Understood. Haha.”
As Bart laughed, half in doubt, Henry sat with elegant composure in a chair near the table at the center of the Great Hall on the first floor of the mansion and waited for his guest. Originally, the appointment had been to rent out an entire high-end restaurant in Manhattan, but Henry had raised the level of formality for the man who would truly become the future president. He had invited him into the heart of Devenzer, a place where not just anyone could easily enter.
‘He’s going to become president in no time, so of course I have to pay attention.’
Of course, Bart seemed to dismiss Henry’s certainty as no more than the young family head’s joke. While they waited, Henry had spoken with him and learned that Bart was a Democratic supporter through and through, with the sensibilities of New York flowing in his very bones. According to him, the previous family head, too, had leaned heavily toward the Democrats.
‘He just couldn’t publicly support them because of the family rule that says we don’t back any specific party. In effect, he was a shy Democrat.’
The original owner before Henry’s possession had been the embodiment of apathy, someone who shuddered at the very thought of politics, and Henry in his previous life had also been an ordinary office worker whose only gratitude toward election day was that it was a holiday. Yet strangely enough, Henry, who had been Korean in his previous life, knew far more about the American political scene of this era than he did about Korean politics of the same period.
‘Because this is exactly the point when so many novelists have their protagonists start carving up China. A golden age that’s modern, yet when China was at its most vulnerable.’
Whether he wanted it or not, the knowledge he had unintentionally acquired by devouring countless genre novels unfolded in Henry’s mind as an elaborate map of political dynamics.
“The governor has arrived.”
At the servant’s announcement, the heavy oak doors opened, and a man with eyes far more vibrant than they appeared on television walked in. Donald Reagan. Befitting a former Hollywood actor, even though he was in his late sixties, he wore a perfectly fitted suit and a smile that disarmed people.
“My word. This truly is magnificent. Could the man in the portrait hanging in this hall be the very person I saw in history textbooks? I can almost hear the sound of the pen signing the Declaration of Independence from here.”
Donald Reagan approached while joking lightly as he looked at the portrait of the family’s founder hanging on the wall. His admiration for the ceiling fresco and every work of art around him was impossible to hide.
“Haha, thank you. I’ve seen you many times, but this will be my first time meeting you, Mr. Reagan. Hello. I’m Henry Devenzer.”
“Hahaha. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Devenzer. What an astonishing mansion, and what a tall, handsome young man.”
Henry extended his hand first and shook firmly, then gestured for him to sit and continued speaking.
“It’s because of the long history accumulated here. And the pen you mentioned is kept in the study safe. If you’d like, I’ll show it to you after dinner. Please, have a seat.”
“Oh, splendid. I’d very much like to see it. Thank you for inviting me here.”
Donald Reagan sat down and naturally undid the button of his jacket. Each of his movements carried that unique ease that won the public’s favor.
“Sitting in a place so rich with history, I feel as though I’ve stepped into the very heart of America. Mr. Henry, to tell you the truth, the air in Washington these days is far too cold and dry. Politicians are buried in the numbers right in front of them rather than the foundations of the nation.”
Donald Reagan looked at Henry with a gentle smile. It was the typical speech of a politician—the technique of elevating the other party’s pride so they would, at the very least, not become an enemy.
‘As expected, all those years as an actor weren’t for nothing. His delivery is so natural. But I was a K-office worker in my past life. I’m skipping this kind of superficial small talk right away.’
But such things did not work on Henry.
“One of those politicians is sitting before me today. Haha, I’m joking. You may dispense with empty pleasantries. You did not come here simply to eat in an old-fashioned mansion, did you?”
At Henry’s blunt way of speaking, Bart’s eyebrow twitched where he stood nearby. Donald Reagan, too, laughed in apparent surprise at the unexpected turn and toyed with the prepared teacup.
“Haha, young Devenzer, you have quite the fiery personality. Very well. If you’ll permit my rudeness, I’ll ask directly. Why has a family known as New York’s reclusive prestigious house suddenly begun making such large moves? And at this particular moment, with the election right around the corner?”
“Mm, that truly isn’t for political purposes. Our family happened to need people lately, and I wanted to step forward on my own rather than relying only on the family. To begin with, our family rules firmly state that we ‘support no political party.’”
Henry paused for a moment, then toyed with his cup and added a pointed remark.
“But I would like to add one thing here today. We do not support parties, but we will ‘invest in people.’”
Donald Reagan’s eyes narrowed. A declaration that he would invest not in a party, but in a person. It was the most arrogant and yet unconventional proposal a traditional noble family could make.
“Invest in people… Does that mean I am included among those targets of investment?”
Reagan set down his teacup and asked. The easy laughter from moments before had vanished from his voice. His gaze was no longer that of a seasoned politician, but of a businessman standing before a major investor. Henry leaned back against his chair and replied leisurely.
“Governor, the mainstream Republicans currently dismiss you as a ‘radical conservative who cannot bring in moderates.’ On top of that, elites like George Bosi look at your Hollywood career with mockery in their eyes.”
Reagan’s brow trembled faintly. It had struck home.
‘The elitism of this era’s elites really is something. But the public hates those insufferable prigs most of all.’
Henry drove the point in like a wedge.
“But Governor, the public is sick to death of bureaucrats who pretend to be smart and lecture them. Soaring interest rates, rising unemployment, endless lines at gas stations—this is the result those oh-so-great politicians created. Do you know what role you must play for such a public?”
Henry stopped speaking for a moment and set down his teacup. Reagan’s gaze naturally settled on Henry’s lips.
“The protagonist who will ‘Make America Great Again.’ Countless voters right now are longing for the powerful past. If it’s you, I believe you can call that nostalgia into reality.”
‘I’m giving the original recipe to the original establishment. After all, this is the man who made that catchphrase known to the world.’
Instead of answering, Reagan stared at Henry as if lost in deep thought. He had realized that this young family head was not merely discussing politics, but evaluating his own “star quality” and “potential.” Henry opened his mouth again.
“Governor, what is your dream?”
“My dream… I wonder. Haha. Would it be too predictable an answer to say that it’s to restore this collapsing nation’s pride?”
“No, I think that would be truly wonderful if you mean it sincerely. I’ve also been thinking a great deal about dreams lately.”
At just the right timing, the servants appeared in a line and set down the food, briefly interrupting the conversation. Henry offered the food and spoke.
“I hope this won’t be an uncomfortable occasion. Please, eat. This is the steak our chef is proud of, and an American apple brandy made at our distillery. I hope it suits your taste.”
“I can tell it’ll be delicious just from the smell. Haha, uncomfortable? Not at all. If anything, I’m simply surprised to discover that the young head of the Devenzer family possesses such deep insight.”
The meal proceeded in a warm, friendly atmosphere. In particular, after Reagan drank the apple brandy Henry offered, his expression changed completely. The way he praised it so passionately seemed sincere rather than acted.
As one or two glasses of liquor warmed him, Donald Reagan’s tongue grew considerably looser. He began to launch into a lengthy speech about how he would change the nation if he became president of the United States. Henry listened attentively to his speech and chimed in at the appropriate moments, and thanks to that, the atmosphere at the table grew even richer. Mixed into that conversation were the core pledges that would one day sweep through an era.
“Taxes are far too high right now. Because they’re this high, corporations are busy watching everyone’s reactions instead of investing. In the end, what brought about the current economic recession was these outrageous taxes. Taxes are high, so tax evasion runs rampant; companies tie up their money, so the national finances actually grow weaker; and citizens’ wallets become thinner. It’s a vicious cycle.”
“Yes, that is a very reasonable thought.”
‘Well, historically, doing that did increase tax revenue and raise incomes, so it isn’t wrong. Later on, he’ll be criticized to dust over the problem of wealth polarization, but would that matter to this gentleman right now?’
Reagan seemed very pleased with this young family head, who nodded along with his economic philosophy. He lightly swirled his empty brandy glass and looked at Henry with a flushed face.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying, Henry! But those friends in Washington who pretend to be so smart don’t listen to a word I say. They think I’m nothing more than some actor who memorizes scripts and recites them!”
Henry smiled silently and refilled Reagan’s glass with brandy. Only the cheerful sound of the golden liquid filling the glass broke the silence at the table.
“Governor, I asked earlier what your dream was. And the answers you just gave me were more than enough to convince me of my investment.”
Reagan, who had been about to bring the glass to his lips, paused and looked at Henry. In a tone that was utterly firm yet calm, Henry continued.
“I will invest in you. I do not desire repayment or some grand reward. I merely hope that later, when you ascend to that high seat, and even after you complete your term safely, we can share a pleasant meal like today. All you need do is remember the goodwill I offered you fondly.”
Question and astonishment flashed through Reagan’s eyes at the same time. He had met countless sponsors, but this was the first time he had heard a proposal as terrifying and overwhelming as the words, “I desire no repayment.”
“I believe your sincerity will reach the American people. So please do not lose that heart you have now. That pure will to build a strong America. That is the only dividend our family desires.”
For a while, Reagan could not continue speaking. He even felt the illusion that the young man before him and the figures in the Declaration of Independence portrait visible in the distance were faintly overlapping. Henry Devenzer had merely declared that he would believe in him, but that indifferent trust pierced his heart far more heavily than a hundred words of political rhetoric.
“Henry… To think I’ve only now met a friend like you. You are truly an astonishing young man.”
Reagan offered his sincere admiration and extended his hand. Henry clasped that hand and smiled lightly.
“Now, since the meal is over, I should show you what I promised. The historic pen used to sign the Declaration of Independence. When you later make your first signature in the White House, you can see for yourself how closely it resembles the pen you’ll use.”
The two moved to the exhibition room in the grand library. Reagan grew excited like a child as he looked at the historic pen beyond the glass case, and Henry leisurely enjoyed the sight of his back while savoring a future that was already fixed. Before leaving the mansion, Reagan, apparently truly taken with the apple brandy, subtly asked Henry for a bottle and carried one with him before getting into his car with lighter steps than ever.