Chapter 1 — Captain San Jose
San José Cohen, a native of Córdoba Province, dropped out of school at sixteen.
At seventeen, he became a member of the Córdoba City Guard. He was strong and more educated than most from his village, so he performed well.
At the time, the City Guard was expanding its power and had begun extending conscription to the gauchos it had previously despised.
San José didn't find military life too difficult; it was certainly more interesting than herding cattle and riding horses. At eighteen, with the support of his gaucho compatriots, he became the leader of a squad in the City Guard.
When José woke up in this powerful body, he spent days in a daze. His head ached as if it might explode while the memories of two lives mixed and churned, turning his brain to mush.
He had several nosebleeds that day, leading his subordinate, Dirut Aragon, to believe José had been out "replenishing his energy" again.
Aragon came from the same village and considered himself San José's younger brother. He had a shaved head and had been a loyal follower of San José since childhood.
Fearing he might have some illness, José went to the city hospital for an examination. The doctors found no problems, only some minor inflammation.
In his previous life, this would have been called "excessive internal heat," caused by eating too much high-fat, high-protein food. A simple anti-inflammatory would be enough to treat it. His physique was excellent, and the nurse who examined him was so impressed she invited him to a hotel for a private "consultation." José righteously refused.
For a while, he regretted not going to the hotel with the nurse. She was undeniably good-looking and quite hot. He hadn't even asked for her name. What a pity.
Thanks to his body's instinctive memory, José quickly mastered Spanish. The pure Iberian accent felt a little unnatural at first, but he soon adapted.
A few days later, José calmly accepted his new identity. He had been a loner in his previous life, after all. From then on, José was San José.
The body's original owner had been a cheerful and righteous young man whom people saluted on the street. A middle school graduate was not considered illiterate; among the gauchos, he was highly educated. Most of the other conscripts who had joined with him had only finished elementary school.
Gauchos were the nomadic people of Argentina. Their traditional way of life had been upended by the advent of firearms, and they now constituted the lowest class in the country.
It was a miracle that someone of San José's background could hold a position of power in the City Guard, commanding a squad of fifty men and enjoying considerable prestige.
San José glanced in the mirror. He was tall and sturdy with thick black hair—a handsome young man.
Although the other squad leaders privately looked down on his background, they recognized his strength.
Over the next few days, relying on the original owner's memories, San José went to the tavern to drink and patrolled the city as usual. After settling in, he asked Aragon to buy some newspapers for him.
"Boss, Young Master Abel of the Klein family held a dance party yesterday, but you declined the invitation. Also, you haven't been to the Xinanda Hotel much lately. Are you feeling better?"
Aragon muttered, a little regretful. A party hosted by Young Master Klein was sure to have good food. He wished they could have gone for the feast.
"I've had a bit of a headache. Too much drinking and too many skewers. After your patrol, buy a few bottles of tequila and take them over as an apology. I'll give you the money later," San José said, ruffling Aragon's bald head, which felt surprisingly pleasant.
San José certainly knew about the Xinanda Hotel. No wonder this strong body felt a little weak; frequenting that kind of establishment would take its toll on anyone.
Argentina had a developed agricultural sector and abundant resources, so military pay and rations were relatively good. The City Guard was only a third-rate army, but it was one of the dominant forces in Córdoba City.
Along with the three major families, the Guard formed the ruling power of both the city and the province. The Klein family, to which Abel belonged, was one of them.
San José and Abel Klein were simply drinking buddies. Abel himself was only a collateral member of his family. They had met a few months ago while drinking at the Xinanda Hotel.
The original owner lacked geographical knowledge and knew little about the surrounding area. Córdoba was one of the major cities in the country.
Its economy was relatively developed, with a population of over 600,000. In San José's view, this was equivalent to a fourth-tier city at best.
He picked up the *San Martín Christian Truth Newspaper* and began to read. The original owner was literate, so José could understand the Spanish. He read line by line, finding it quite interesting.
One headline announced the country's refusal to participate in the upcoming World Cup in Brazil: "Our Nation Refuses to Participate in the New Brazil World Cup. Long Live the Argentine National Army!"
Another article reported riots in Buenos Aires that required the National First Defense Force to suppress. Fierce clashes had occurred, but all the rioters had reportedly been arrested and were awaiting trial.
A third piece noted that Lieutenant General Juan Nicolas, second-in-command of the National Defense Force, had announced a temporary takeover of the capital's defense, further squeezing the local forces.
The last major story praised the First Five-Year Plan, boasting that following the success of the National Petroleum and Railway Companies, BHN and DNAS had also achieved remarkable results. It ended by noting the Perón government was seeking another term in the next election—a clear attempt to paint a picture of peace and stability.
***
"What a chaotic era," San José thought, finally sorting out the timeline. The next election was next year.
The 1950s would be a chaotic beginning for what would become Argentina's darkest decades, marked by countless military juntas, constant military interference in government, suppression of civilian rule, and economic stagnation—sometimes even regression. It was the complete opposite of the South Korean military government of the same period.
Although San José had no particular fondness for Koreans, he admired their ability to transform a poor, backward colony into an emerging economic power. Their military government had developed the economy with a level of governance that this South American country could not hope to match.
At this moment, the world was only a few years past the war and was entering a stage of recovery and rapid development. It wasn't exactly a troubled time for the world at large.
As a squad leader in the City Guard, his total income was quite good, reaching 20,000 pesos a month, equivalent to $400 at the time. This was the 1950s, when the average monthly income for an American citizen was less than $200.
He had even saved a small nest egg of two hundred thousand pesos. The original owner had been a savvy money manager and had other sources of income. An ordinary soldier was lucky to make $100 a month, and other squad leaders had to take on side jobs to make more than 7,500 pesos. The basic salary for a squad leader was 5,000 pesos.
The money was stored in the Córdoba City Commercial Bank in an account opened with Abel's help. The bank was a financial enterprise controlled by the Klein family. Locally, San José was considered a wealthy man.
The peso was much more valuable now than it would be in a few years. An Argentine civilian with a decent salary of 5,000 pesos a month could live a very comfortable life.
Renting a two-bedroom apartment and raising three or four children was manageable. One could even afford a pet and a part-time cleaner, with some savings left over at the end of the month.
He estimated that inflation and currency devaluation would drive down wages in the coming years, and the entire country would descend into chaos within months.
San José was now technically a member of the military government, but he despised the Argentine military regime, which he found to be as corrupt and incompetent as the Kuomintang a few years prior.
He had to work hard. In the two years since dropping out of school, he had done well to become a captain, and the long-term benefits would be good.
But everyone has a little ambition. Argentina was a blessed and fertile land; it was a pity not to develop it. Why not become a major chaebol, like Samsung in South Korea? San José had ambitions, and if he was going to do something, he would do it big. He would create an Argentine Samsung Empire.
Korea was still weak now, but in a few decades, it would become an important emerging economy. Argentina was vast and rich in resources. Other than its small population, it was in no way inferior.
Even now, Argentina was one of the two hegemons of South America, rivaling Brazil.
It was a pity that the Argentine eagle seemed to be preparing for a fall.