With only a little pressure, Henry Morton Stanley began to spill everything, even things that had not been asked.
At the same time, he kept insisting that until the actual repression began, he had never imagined that the natives would be massacred to such an extent.
"I am telling the truth. I really thought, at worst, it would be similar to how slaves were treated in the old South."
"So you are saying you thought that level was acceptable."
"N-no, that is not what I meant…"
"You cooperated because you believed that inferior blacks were meant to be treated as slaves. Is that not it?"
"…."
Stanley could not refute it and simply fell silent.
Although I had now set them against each other, I had no intention of letting either of them go free.
From the field workers to the executives, the entire Congo Association had accumulated wealth through acts that could only be described as monstrous.
And now, after one betrayal, he expected to live comfortably for the rest of his life?
That would not happen.
"Your testimony is sufficient. Now provide every piece of evidence that proves Leopold II of Belgium directly gave you orders. Leave nothing out."
If the detectives who exposed this incident were field-level operatives, Stanley was one of the highest-ranking administrators.
Leopold II would claim that Stanley had forged orders in his name.
But if evidence showed direct commands from the king, there would be no escape.
Attempting to cut off the tail would result in the spine being torn out instead.
"Your Majesty… since I have cooperated so thoroughly… perhaps I could also…"
"You want help escaping? Do not worry. You will not be falsely branded as the sole culprit. I will establish an organization in the Congo. As atonement, you will donate all the money you received from the Association."
"…All of it? That is nearly my entire fortune…"
"Is that not a small price? Or would you prefer to be tried as a criminal who used the king's name for personal gain and face execution? Do not feel too wronged. The one who used you and then tried to discard you will suffer far more."
There is a saying in Go.
A large group of stones rarely dies easily.
Because it has many possible escape routes, and losing it means defeat, so every effort is made to save it.
This applies to reality as well.
Large corporations rarely collapse, and even if they do, governments intervene due to the impact.
What about a royal family?
Even when I struck at Russia, it was only possible because I turned them into a laughingstock across Europe.
And even then, I did not strip them of everything.
Push too far, and backlash follows.
But this time was different.
My goal was not merely to punish Belgium.
If that were all, I would not go to such lengths.
Without Stanley, I could have pressured Leopold II with existing testimony alone.
But that would likely end with the Belgian government taking Congo from him, just like in original history.
My objective was to reclaim the rubber industry.
Not only the five million pounds, but also the rights.
To achieve that, Leopold II of Belgium had to become someone no one would defend.
A complete villain.
Only then could everything be taken.
Stanley looked devastated, but he had no choice.
"Three days. Can you prepare everything?"
"If I can send a telegram, I will have everything ready. All documents. And I will secure the Association's records before your investigators arrive."
"Good. And at least try to feel some remorse."
Stanley lowered his head in shame.
He had not been completely devoid of conscience.
But it was too late.
He had lost everything.
Three days later.
Leopold II confirmed the delay and felt relieved.
He secretly ordered Commander Roger to fabricate evidence blaming Stanley.
Once the investigation concluded, Stanley would be tried as the sole culprit.
Leopold II would retain Congo.
Even if profits dropped.
Even if restrictions increased.
It would still be worth it.
But then—
Stanley disappeared.
And soon after—
Investigation confirms all atrocities in Congo were directly ordered by King Leopold II
The report spread across Europe.
Leopold II trembled.
"Impossible…!"
Original signed orders from Leopold II to Henry Morton Stanley have been verified
Evidence of attempted cover-up discovered
Testimonies confirm systematic mutilation and forced labor
His mind reeled.
"Stanley… that traitor…!"
Then realization struck.
"…Killian…"
Everything.
From beginning to end.
A trap.
"…That man…"
He laughed weakly.
"Who is the real monster…?"
The answer was already clear.
But it was too late.
***
Strictly speaking, the Belgian people showed little interest in this incident.
Their king caused trouble in Africa? So what?
That was the reaction of most people when they first saw the news, and even that was quickly suppressed by Leopold II of Belgium's information control.
With no internet and not even radio, the Belgian public had no real understanding of the situation.
Instead, they believed their king was being falsely accused.
Leopold II used his influence and wealth to flood the press with articles favorable to himself.
But such control could only work in isolated states like Russia or the South.
Belgium did not have that luxury.
It could not withstand pressure from Europe, and more importantly, the Belgian government refused to allow it.
"The Belgian government must issue an official statement immediately!"
"We were deceived by Leopold II! I recognized him as ruler of the Congo because I believed he was sincere!"
"He promised coexistence and prosperity! Look at these images! Where is that now?"
Prussia led the attack, followed by France and the United States.
Leaders who had been deceived began openly pressuring Belgium.
They had to.
Otherwise, they themselves would appear incompetent.
It was easier to paint Leopold II as a devil than admit failure.
And now, not only had he committed atrocities, but he had also tried to shift all blame onto others.
Naturally, newspapers across Europe began tearing him apart.
Headlines mocked and condemned him relentlessly.
Leopold II became a symbol of disgrace.
Soon, even within Belgium, he lost control.
The government and parliament issued a statement.
The Belgian government expresses deep regret and will take all necessary action
These acts were the independent actions of the royal family
We accept the reconsideration of the London agreements
They were furious.
They had not known.
And the public followed.
"Leopold II, explain yourself!"
"Shame of Belgium!"
"Apologize to the British Empire!"
"End media manipulation!"
Belgium's king was not "King of Belgium," but King of the Belgians.
A monarch elevated by the people.
Public opinion mattered.
The government decided to send an ambassador, not the king, to the next London conference.
"Who decided that? Congo is my property!"
"Your Majesty, please be reasonable! Such statements would cause diplomatic disaster!"
"Disaster? This is a conspiracy! That bastard Killian Gore is trying to steal everything!"
The ministers exchanged glances.
The once-brilliant king now seemed unstable.
"Your Majesty, you must abandon the Congo."
"Abandon it? I built it! It is ours!"
"It is no longer an asset. It is a curse."
The people demanded abdication.
"Abdicate? Over a few dead blacks?"
"It is not that. You deceived all of Europe, broke contracts, manipulated information, and attempted a cover-up."
The scale was undeniable.
And the truth was harsh.
The outrage was not for the Congolese.
It was for the humiliation of Belgium.
Even the government apologized not to Africa, but to the British royal family.
Such was the reality of the time.
But Leopold II refused.
He would rather apologize to the dead than to Killian.
Because he knew.
This had all been planned.
"Listen to me! This is all his scheme!"
No one listened.
Even his own family turned cold.
The government moved to remove him from negotiations entirely.
At the new London conference, Belgium spoke through its ambassador.
"We accept a full review of the agreements."
"Then present your solution."
"We will transfer Congo from the royal family to the Belgian government and abolish all harsh practices."
A Prussian delegate scoffed.
"So you keep the land gained through deception?"
"We will govern it properly."
"That is not sufficient."
France and the United States agreed.
Belgium had no choice.
"Very well."
Everything unfolded as planned.
Then I played my strongest card.
"Your government may not be aware, but your royal family signed a contract with ours."
I always honor contracts.
And I despise those who break them.
The ambassador's face trembled as he read it.
"If the debt is not repaid, the rubber industry transfers to us."
Silence.
"And you have just agreed to share Congo's profits."
Which meant repayment was impossible.
What a shame.
Then I would have no choice.
To take the rubber instead.
***
A contract is cold.
No matter what the Belgian plenipotentiary tried to argue, the validity of the contract that I had already signed jointly with Leopold II of Belgium could not be shaken.
To put it bluntly, without rubber, what use was that vast land of the Congo?
Copper, timber, ivory, a small amount of gold. It was not as if there were no ways to extract money, but none of them justified managing such a massive territory.
No matter how one looked at it, the alpha and omega of Congo's value was rubber.
At least until the early twentieth century, that was an undeniable fact.
In other words, it was an extremely promising business that could serve as a stable cash cow for the next thirty years.
Even without the insane level of exploitation carried out by Leopold II, a properly structured system could generate steady profits.
From the beginning, I did not need even half the profit that Leopold II had made.
What mattered was securing an uninterrupted supply of rubber, which was closely tied to future industries, and ensuring that I became the primary supplier.
As a bonus, because Leopold II had displayed such extreme brutality, even ordinary governance on my part would make me appear benevolent in comparison.
As the situation took an unexpected turn, the Belgian ambassador began sweating heavily and stammering.
"W-wait a moment. What do you mean the rubber industry will belong to the British royal family? We have never heard of this."
"His Majesty Leopold II purchased the rubber rights from me for five million pounds. And as stated here, since he can no longer repay that sum, I must recover it myself. Therefore, while your government may purchase all other assets in the Congo from him, the rubber industry is an exception."
"…Then… we will pay the five million pounds instead. We will issue bonds or allocate a special budget…"
"I see. Then will your government also assume the debt owed by the royal family, including penalties? You are aware that beyond my investment, there are additional penalties for its misuse."
That alone exceeded one million pounds.
Belgium could theoretically raise the money through massive bond issuance.
But politically, it was impossible.
The government paying for the royal family's mistakes would destroy public opinion.
No citizen would accept covering a six million pound disaster caused by the monarchy.
If they wished to avoid collapse, that option could not be chosen.
Nor could they justify keeping the rubber industry at all costs.
Not after causing global chaos over it.
"Since the Belgian government bears no fault, I will not demand repayment from you. The principal will be handled according to the contract. But since royal assets ultimately belong to the people, I will not touch domestic assets."
"Then foreign assets…"
"I will take the rubber industry and all systems created by Leopold II. Export routes, ships, production facilities. Additionally, operational costs will be charged to the royal family until the total reaches six million pounds. After that, the debt will be cleared."
Congo was vast.
Rubber trees were spread across the entire territory.
Managing production and export was not simple.
Leopold II had spent enormous effort building the system.
Now I would take it.
Reorganize it.
And charge all costs back to him.
A perfect arrangement.
"But without rubber, how can we sustain Congo as a colony?"
"There is timber, copper, and gold. Surely you will not suffer losses."
I had already calculated it.
They would not lose money immediately.
Which meant they could not abandon it.
They had already declared they would take control.
And as time passed, costs would rise.
But that was their burden.
A lesson.
The Belgian side fell silent, hands trembling.
One could almost imagine them strangling Leopold II in their thoughts.
Within a month, I was certain he would be forced to abdicate.
Perhaps Belgium might even become a republic.
Of course, the debt would still be collected.
"Then I will take it that Belgium has no objections. Let us work together to restore Congo."
Ten days later, the news arrived.
Leopold II had stepped down.
But even then, he refused to admit fault.
Instead, he declared publicly:
"This was all a trap set by Killian Gore Hanover. I am the victim."
The government dismissed it as madness.
Even after abdication, he continued attacking the British royal family.
People laughed.
"A king reduced to this…"
"He should have admitted fault."
Ironically, everything he said was true.
But no one believed him.
He had become the greatest liar of the age.
After securing the core industries of the Congo, I immediately began correcting the atrocities.
The Congo Association was dismantled.
In its place, I established a new organization, the Congo Restoration Committee.
At first, the natives feared us.
To them, it was simply one group of armed white men replacing another.
Reports described the situation.
Even officials could only sigh.
"They do not trust us. Naturally."
"Would you trust men who look the same as those who cut hands yesterday?"
"Of course not."
The damage was severe.
Entire tribes had lost twenty percent of their population in a single month.
Many victims were women and children.
Even when we changed everything, safety equipment, fair wages, no quotas, they did not believe it.
"Please let us work!"
"We will bring rubber! Spare our families!"
"We will not fail again!"
They begged.
The reports carried the despair of those who wrote them.
The room fell silent.
"Investigate all affected tribes and compensate them fully. Provide support for the injured. Use as much money as needed."
"Yes."
It was not even my money.
It came from Leopold II.
Over time, they would understand.
That we were different.
And as for Leopold II…
He continued ranting.
"Your Majesty, should we stop him?"
"No."
I smiled slightly.
He was still useful.
Let him speak.
Let him dig his own grave deeper.
The contrast was perfect.
The demon king Leopold II.
And the merciful king Killian.
A story that would move the world.
***
The Congolese natives who had been devastated by Leopold II of Belgium fortunately returned to their daily lives quickly.
If the exploitation had continued for years, it would have been different, but Leopold II's tyranny had lasted only a few months.
Even so, the fact that some tribes had lost over twenty percent of their population in that short time was shocking.
Yet people recovered faster than expected.
"Please line up here. Anyone who suffered under the Congo Association, come forward and file your compensation report."
"…You mean we have to sign here?"
"Yes. We need a record to determine compensation."
"…Sign…"
The natives hesitated.
The British officials immediately realized their mistake.
These were people who had been enslaved through a single signature.
"Then you do not need to sign. We will just record numbers."
"Thank you… thank you so much…"
"And the compensation…?"
"His Majesty Killian Gore Hanover has promised that all victims will be supported to live comfortably."
"Thank you… the Belgians only threatened us with guns…"
"Our king values peace above all. In Canada, even black citizens regard him like a father."
The money came from Leopold II.
But no one mentioned that.
There was no need.
"Still… this is difficult…"
Investigator Oliver sighed.
He had thought it would not be so severe.
Other colonies had harsh conditions too.
But this…
"How do you destroy a country in months…"
Even he, a typical racist by the standards of the time, was shaken.
He had believed whites superior.
Yet even he now felt something had to change.
He approached Henry Morton Stanley.
"Compare this data with your records."
"Yes."
"You should have had some conscience…"
Stanley said nothing.
He had no right.
"…Inspector, about that girl…"
"…She is alive. Her family too."
"…I see."
Relief.
And shame.
"Thank you…"
"Then why did you do it?"
"…Money."
Stanley admitted it plainly.
"Even dogs deserve pity…"
Oliver looked toward the village.
"You will have to live with this forever."
"…Yes."
Many had died.
Few families remained intact.
Stanley remembered the girl who once placed a flower crown on him.
If she had died, what would he feel?
Even now, guilt consumed him.
"I grew up in the South. I thought treating blacks as slaves was normal."
"That may be true."
"But now… I do not know."
Humans are contradictory.
Cruel beyond measure.
Yet capable of compassion.
Stanley chose to remain.
To atone.
But far away, Leopold II of Belgium continued raging.
He had already been forced to abdicate.
And yet he kept speaking.
Which only made things worse.
The Belgian royal court fell into chaos.
Leopold II had no son.
Under Salic law, his daughters could not inherit.
Thus, Prince Philippe, Count of Flanders ascended the throne.
Leopold II's position collapsed.
Even his daughter avoided him.
"Louise, listen to me!"
"…Uncle said I should not…"
"Philip! That madman!"
He believed his brother would help him.
Instead, he was abandoned.
"Why must I ask permission to see you?"
"…You are no longer king."
"I will return!"
His plan had been simple.
Step down temporarily.
Let his brother take the throne.
Then reveal everything.
Return.
But it had failed.
"Your approval rating is three out of 1,200."
"At least three are sane."
"And Louise must marry into another royal family. She cannot hear your delusions."
"Delusions?"
He was alone.
Even the one person he trusted had turned away.
"Europe wants to erase its past. They want Belgium to bear all the blame."
He was not entirely wrong.
But it no longer mattered.
"Please, brother, listen—"
"I will arrange a place for you."
"…Where?"
"A hospital in Austria."
Silence.
Then realization.
"You would send me to an asylum?"
"For the sake of the nation."
Guards entered.
"Please come with us."
"Let go! I am your king!"
No one listened.
"This is all Killian's scheme!"
The doors closed.
And with that, Leopold II of Belgium lost everything.
A man who had deceived the world
And gained a land eighty times his country
Fell
With nothing left but his voice.
***
The news that the Belgian royal family had sent Leopold II of Belgium to an asylum in Austria naturally reached my ears as well.
At this time, Sigmund Freud was still young, so what passed for an asylum was far removed from what people in the modern era would imagine.
Even so, by the mid to late nineteenth century, conditions had gradually become more humane, though constant supervision remained unavoidable.
What could he do about it? When a member of royalty is sent to an asylum, it is effectively a declaration that he has truly lost his mind.
At least it was no longer like the past, when treatment involved beatings, being fed rats, or having one's head struck repeatedly.
He should be grateful for that and spend the rest of his life in repentance.
"So, what did our King Philippe of Belgium say?"
"He said that the former king's ramblings have nothing to do with Belgium and that no misunderstandings should arise."
"So that is why they sent him abroad instead of keeping him in Belgium? The Belgian royal family is quite decisive."
"It seems they wanted to make it absolutely clear that Leopold II is no longer connected to Belgium. I would have done the same."
The reasoning was understandable, but no matter how cleanly they tried to sever ties, he was still a former king.
The connection could never fully disappear.
The British Empire was already spreading strong propaganda in Africa, portraying Belgium as the nation that opened the gates of hell and itself as the savior of the oppressed.
In Canada, this reaction was especially strong.
Black citizens, who had already settled and built lives there, were furious upon hearing the news.
"I heard France is also working hard to demonize Belgium. Have you seen it?"
"…Quite something. They seem eager to bury their own past and make Belgium the sole villain."
It might seem transparent, but such tactics often worked.
If someone commits crimes worth fifty, but another commits crimes worth a hundred, the former can quietly slip into the background.
Belgium, which had been among the harshest exploiters, now found itself bearing all the blame.
"Prime Minister, as I have said before, we are entering an era of great transformation."
"You have said that several times, but each time it has proven true."
"Exactly. When telegraphs and telephones appeared, everything changed. Could you now live without them?"
"…No. Real-time communication has become essential."
I had lived through that transition myself.
From an age of smartphones to one without even telegraphs.
It had been suffocating.
But I adapted.
Now, even having a telephone felt like a luxury.
"Securing Congo's rubber is part of preparing for this transformation."
"Demand is certainly increasing. And we hold dominance in the electrical sector."
"That is not all. Demand will rise far beyond current expectations."
The age of automobiles would come.
And with it, gasoline.
A completely new market.
If we lost control of that, our industrial strength would collapse.
Fortunately, preparations were already underway.
Oil.
Steel.
Engines.
All in place.
And now, rubber.
There was only one concern left.
Being first does not guarantee remaining first.
Even Thomas Edison excelled at improving existing inventions.
In original history, Britain had pioneers in automobiles but lost its advantage.
Conservative policies.
Limited domestic market.
Failure to scale production.
The reasons were many.
But the result was clear.
If we were to maintain dominance, we had to act.
"Prime Minister, if automobiles replace carriages, what would happen?"
"Automobiles? Those slow machines? Perhaps for buses, but…"
"Technology improves."
Steam-powered cars already existed.
But they were unstable.
Roads were poor.
Operators complained.
Even the Red Flag laws had reasons.
But when internal combustion engines matured, those laws would have to be abolished.
That meant rebuilding infrastructure.
Managing unemployment.
Convincing a conservative society.
A difficult task.
"If Your Majesty believes this, we should prepare."
"We will."
The key to the future was economic strength.
And that meant manufacturing.
We had to expand the market before others caught up.
Even if the United States competed, it was divided.
We had Canada.
Australia.
We could stay ahead.
This was the final hurdle.
If we succeeded, our growth would be unmatched.
Still, others did not fully understand my urgency.
"Please share any new developments."
"Of course."
As I finished, something nagged at me.
Something I had forgotten.
Then I remembered.
Asia.
Edward.
"…Right. I left that to him."
I picked up the report.
And froze.
A British royal flag has been burned in Joseon's port. Both Joseon and Japan have issued apologies…
I took a sip of coffee.
Then read it again.
Burned?
Why?