Chapter 164: That Time I Implemented a Cultural Promotion Policy in South America (2)

TL: Skye

Two weeks after the social liberalization policy began.

The first festival was held in downtown Libertad.

In other countries, festivals were usually held by civic groups or private companies that rented a venue, but San Marcos had no civic groups whatsoever, so the Ministry of Natural Resources and Tourism organized this one itself.

Of course, the quality didn't suffer for it. If anything, it was even better.

Who had ordered this festival, after all?

None other than Yu-jin Choi, San Marcos's Absolute Emperor and Iron-Blooded Ruler.

Naturally, the civil servants had put their hearts and souls into creating a festival unlike any other in the world, and the result was a satisfying event, free of price gouging and packed with things to see and eat.

Of course, Yu-jin didn't let the opportunity slip by.

“Ahem. Shall we check whether everything's been prepared properly? How about going out for a look?”

“O-of course. I've been curious myself.”

He got ready for an outing with Isabella as though he'd been waiting for the chance.

For his disguise, he wore a hat and sunglasses, a plain shirt, and jeans.

It wasn't perfect, but it was nighttime, so it should be good enough.

‘This should do, right?’

Yu-jin looked in the mirror, pleased with his appearance.

“Prrr! Prr!”

Panther clung to his side, begging to come along, but Yu-jin firmly refused.

“Stay home just for today. Daddy will buy you a chicken drumstick on his way home.”

“Prrrr...”

There would be no point in a disguise if he went around with a jaguar one and a half times the size of a golden retriever.

Isabella also changed into casual clothes and came out.

Instead of a suit, she wore a white blouse and a denim skirt. Rather than tying her hair up neatly as she usually did, she had left it loose.

Yu-jin remembered her hair coming loose in the wind on the beach, but he made himself look away.

And so they arrived at the festival with two bodyguards.

“Wow...”

Yu-jin's jaw dropped.

Chatter, chatter...

The place was overflowing with people.

Publica Street in central Libertad had been turned into a car-free street, with stalls and booths lining both sides for hundreds of meters.

“Step right up! Three delicious homemade sausages for a dollar!”

“Get your grilled corn here~! Sprinkled with powdered cheese, it's rich and savory!”

“Fresh fruit juice here!”

Sizzling sounds rose from the vendors' stalls, which offered freshly made fruit juices, grilled meat skewers, empanadas, and tamales.

Temporary stages had been set up here and there along the street, and musicians with guitars and bongos alternated between salsa and reggaeton.

A father carrying a child on his shoulders bought an ear of grilled corn and handed it up, and the child beamed.

A man and woman who appeared to be a couple walked hand in hand between the stalls.

Three elderly women sat on a bench, sipping fruit juice and chatting.

Yu-jin's heart warmed as he watched.

GDP and unemployment figures were all well and good, but wasn't this what life was supposed to look like?

‘I have to admit, I've put a little too much emphasis on work.’

It seemed people needed to let loose and have fun like this once in a while.

“Y-Yu-jin-ssi, I think the main stage is over there.”

“I-is it?”

Looking in the direction Isabella pointed, he saw a large stage at the far end of the festival area.

A local band was playing Latin pop, and hundreds of people had gathered in front of the stage.

The two walked over and stood side by side to watch the performance.

To be honest, the band wasn't very good. They hit the occasional wrong note, and the singer's voice trembled, perhaps from nerves.

But the audience paid no mind, clapping and cheering. Some began to dance. They were clumsy and awkward, but they were smiling.

Yu-jin stole a glance at Isabella beside him.

Her profile was lit by the stage lights.

Her expression was as impassive as ever, but her foot moved ever so slightly to the rhythm.

‘She's enjoying herself too.’

A smile spread across Yu-jin's face.

When the band began to play an arrangement of San Marcos's national anthem, the entire crowd began to sing along.

“His Excellency's grace is as vast as the sky~”

Hundreds of voices spread across the night sky.

“Wait, why the national anthem all of a sudden...?”

“It's a song everyone knows, isn't it? And it sounds good.”

“Well... that's true.”

Yu-jin was thinking they needed to get popular music established as soon as possible when Isabella spoke in a gentle voice.

“Let's go over there next. It looks like someone's performing tricks.”

“Yes.”

The night breeze carried the smell of food, the sound of music, and people's laughter.

***

Yu-jin's liberalization policy also drew an immediate response from religious circles.

The Catholic Church was the first to act.

That was only natural, really.

South America was home to 40 percent of the world's Catholics.

For the Vatican, a country of ten million people with no religion was a mission field it couldn't pass up.

Priests were immediately dispatched from Colombia and Mexico, and a search began for a site for the first Catholic church in downtown Libertad.

The Protestants followed.

A team of missionaries arrived from an evangelical church in the United States, and a steady stream of missionaries made their way from San Salvador to Libertad.

They came with grand dreams.

Virgin territory devoid of religion.

A promised land with ten million souls waiting.

But as soon as they arrived, they encountered an unexpected reality.

Another religion had already established itself.

Verdadeaula.

Portuguese for Truth Society.

It wasn't a religion brought in from outside.

It had sprung up within San Marcos itself.

A two-story building a twenty-minute walk from downtown Libertad.

Its exterior walls were neatly painted white, and flowers grew in orderly rows in the garden. Even the sign was unassuming.

It was simply a plain wooden sign with Verdadeaula carved into it.

Inside, it was even more surprising.

There were no paintings, let alone statues.

There were no religious symbols of any kind.

The room, a little over 165 square meters, had wooden chairs arranged in neat rows and a small platform at the front.

A single microphone and a wooden table were all that stood on the platform.

The floor had been scrubbed clean, and sunlight streamed through the windows, lighting the interior.

It was a modest place, but the care that had gone into it was clear.

Only a single line was written on the wall.

[Follow His words. Then the way will open.]

Him.

The Truth Society never spoke His name.

Inside, they simply recited His achievements, reflected on His teachings, and shared their gratitude with one another.

They considered even uttering His name sacrilegious.

But every follower knew who He was.

And so, in just a month, the number of believers surpassed five thousand.

The Catholic church was still under construction, and the Protestant church was only just holding its first service.

But the Truth Society was already operating three meeting places in Libertad alone.

There was no comparison between their growth rates.

The reason was simple.

A tangible god inspired more faith than an intangible one.

In fact, the clergy dispatched by the Catholic and Protestant churches struggled greatly to win converts.

“God loves us. Two thousand years ago, He sent His Son into this world, and His Son was crucified for our sins.”

The citizens who had gathered tilted their heads in puzzlement.

Two thousand years ago? A cross? Sins?

To the people of San Marcos, who had never encountered religion before, it was all far too remote.

It was like listening to a foreign language.

The priest's enthusiasm was sincere, but the audience's response was lukewarm.

“I don't really get it...”

“So what has this fellow called God done for us?”

“If he died two thousand years ago, what's that got to do with us now?”

The priest continued explaining, sweating, but it wasn't easy.

It was the same with the Protestants. An evangelical missionary called out while handing out tracts in the street.

“If you accept Jesus, you will be saved!”

A passing citizen took a tract and asked.

“What's salvation?”

“It means gaining eternal life.”

“What kind of bullshit is that?”

Convincing people who had spent decades living without religion that an invisible god existed was no easy task.

The Truth Society's teachings, by contrast, were very much grounded in reality.

“He has turned barren land into fertile fields and given us food.”

A real-life miracle of the loaves and fishes.

It wasn't a sermon. It was fact.

Many of those sitting at the gathering had seen barren land become farms with their own eyes.

Mothers who remembered feeding three children on a single bowl of bean porridge could now buy them as much meat and fish as they liked at low prices at Tortilla Foods stores.

“He has spoken. Work diligently, and you shall be well fed.”

This, too, was fact.

The country's unemployment rate had fallen from 40 percent to 1.2 percent.

In fact, most of those at the gathering had found work after being unemployed.

“He has given our children an education, laid roads for us, and created places for us to live.”

It was all true.

While the Catholic Church spoke of miracles in Israel two thousand years ago, the Truth Society spoke of miracles in San Marcos over the past seven years.

Miracles long ago in a distant land, and miracles they had witnessed with their own eyes.

Which would speak to them more?

Other religions promised salvation to those who believed, but the Truth Society taught that they had already been saved.

Saved from hunger, saved from fear, saved from poverty.

A religion that spoke of miracles and asked people to believe, and a religion that had already let them experience miracles.

It was no contest from the start.

Even the Truth Society's doctrine was easy to learn.

Diligence. Sincerity. Love. Gratitude. Sharing.

Its central tenet was to follow the way of life He had shown through His own actions.

Every Sunday, the Truth Society's followers gathered to recite His achievements, then talked about what His grace had meant to them.

“Thanks to Him, I found a job.”

“I can send my child to school now.”

“I no longer have to rummage through trash cans.”

“I can afford to put flowers on my husband's grave now.”

With each testimony, the believers grew teary-eyed.

They had been through the same things themselves.

Finally, they all sang a song in praise of Him.

The Truth Society grew stronger by the day, and before long its membership had swelled into five figures.

As a result, Maria Pierson, president of the National Saemaul Women's Association and leader of the Truth Society, began looking for a new church site.

The southern outskirts of Libertad.

Maria Pierson stood in front of an empty building, looking satisfied.

A three-story building. A spacious yard. It even came with a parking lot.

“This will do nicely.”

Maria nodded as she made a circuit of the building.

“Chief of Staff, I've secured a site for the Second Church in Libertad.”

Maria smiled.

*****

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