Four days have already passed since I arrived in Venezuela.
In the meantime, I was busy for business reasons, such as checking oil deposits and mineral pits where the plant would be built.
You may wonder if you really need to go to the site, but that’s because you don’t know the situation in Venezuela.
Although it is written on paper that six units produce 100,000 tons of ethylene per day, when I went to the site, the utilization rate was less than half, and the actual production was only 10,000 tons.
Like this, 90% of the document information was false or exaggerated, so there was no other way than to go and check it in person.
“You can’t even operate half of the facilities, but on paper, you say 100% operation. Even if it is exaggerated, it is too much.”
I muttered as if I was fed up, and Simon, who was sitting in the passenger seat of the car, accepted my words.
“Still, half of the equipment is running, so it’s good.”
“Half is good?”
“By Venezuelan standards, yes. A place where even the paperwork is messed up can be considered to have stopped operating altogether.”
Venezuela’s oil-related businesses are all run by state-owned enterprises.
State-owned enterprises run according to the regime’s taste are in fact the dictator’s pocketbook. So, do you have a chin to run the facility properly?
“If the Maduro government had managed the oil business properly, Venezuela would not have collapsed so badly.”
“Mr. Romero, that is an impossible assumption. The bureaucrats gathered in a corrupt government can’t be decent people.”
“That is true, but… … .”
“What’s worse is that we have to keep using those bureaucrats even after the regime changes.”
Simon clears his throat, revealing an uncomfortable look. But I don’t care and I continue with what I said.
“Do you think you can get rid of the bureaucrats at once just because the regime has changed?”
“There is nothing I can’t do.”
“If that happens, related work will be paralyzed and it will only lead to greater confusion.”
The standard method is to place some new bureaucrats and then gradually replace them with the existing ones.
However, Venezuela, which is on the verge of starvation economically, could not afford it.
Simon also spits out words as if he is frustrated because he did not know that.
“Is there any other way?”
“Only the oil business that is urgently needed to be restored is independent of the government’s hands, and the rest can be changed slowly.”
“You don’t mean to sell the state-owned enterprise in charge of the oil business, do you?”
His voice was slightly raised. It was a natural reaction, since oil mining is a highly important business in Venezuela.
“It can’t be. I meant temporarily outsourcing operations to a private company. Isn’t it self-evident that a private company will do better than a state-owned company?”
“The problem with private companies is that they take too much profit.”
“It seems to me that it would be better than not running even half of the equipment in good condition.”
“… … .”
Simon shut his mouth, as if he couldn’t think of anything to refute.
* * *
We finished all our schedules and returned to the Romero Mansion.
The usual Romero mansion is a quiet place like a temple, but now you can hear chattering from the entrance.
“proposal! You said you were seriously injured? Are you okay? How are you feeling?”
“Oh my. Look at his face! You were too skinny.”
“Is it going to work if I treat it at home? I’m going to hate you like this.”
The cause of the commotion was Jesse’s college friends from Korea.
Their voices were so loud that you could hear them from the annex where Jesse was to the entrance of the mansion.
“I think my party arrived from Korea.”
“Are you a working-level team dispatched from the Ohsung Group?”
“no. These are Jessie’s friends.”
Simon tilts his head. He must have thought it was strange that he had brought his friend to Venezuela, where security was a mess.
“I will go first.”
“I see.”
Even while I was walking to the annex, their chatter didn’t stop.
“So what did I do when I first heard the news… … .”
“that’s right. that’s right. Because I did too.”
“Knock-knock.”
Since Jesse and her friends met after almost half a year, they must have had a lot to talk about.
I decided to wait a while so they could talk among themselves.
“this.”
There was only one cigarette left in the pack. I didn’t have time to spare because I rushed over to Venezuela at dawn.
He carefully placed his last cigarette in his mouth as if handling valuables and lit it.
profit.
The smell of cigarettes tickles your nostrils.
I inhaled a sip, savoring the scent, and tried to exhale again when I felt a vibration in my pocket.
“Are you calling me at a time like this?”
He frowns and pulls out his phone. And the moment I identified the sender, I almost dropped my cigarette.
[D. Trump]
He gently dragged the cigarette he was holding onto the floor and pressed the call button.
-oh! Daniel. It’s me.
“Hello, Mr. President.”
– Ha ha ha. It’s always fun to hear the title “President”.
“In the next two months, not only me, but people around the world will hear that you are the President.”
After that, a short sad talk follows. Trump mainly boasted about himself, but I continued the conversation in an appropriate way.
-How are things going with the favor you said earlier?
“The Venezuela thing is going well. I think we can finish it before the inauguration ceremony.”
-hmm. It’s smooth… … Well, so the dictator must have approached me.
The only dictator to come out at this time was Maduro.
I ask questions pretending not to know.
“Did something happen?”
-I got a call from an author who is the president of Venezuela. They wanted to lift US sanctions.
“So what did you do?”
While I waited for an answer, I swallowed a dry saliva without being noticed.
– I put it on hold for now.
You should have turned it down right away. hold back?
I opened my mouth as I managed to push back my true intentions that were about to come out.
“Would you like to accept his offer?”
– It can’t be. I hate dictators. They are the cancer cells that eat away at freedom and democracy.
“Then why… … .”
-I remembered that you asked for the Venezuelan sanctions to be lifted. So, I plan to listen to your opinion first and respond accordingly.
The reason he didn’t turn down Maduro’s offer right away was because of me. Emotions come like waves.
“I don’t care. So push through in the style of the President.”
-What is my style?
“You’re the type to push yourself according to your beliefs without paying attention to your surroundings. In Korea, it is called the manly style.”
-Manly Men?
I think about how to express it for a while, and then I answer whatever comes to mind.
From noble mtl dot com
“A man among men. In one word, it means Real Guy.”
I hear Trump’s chuckle through the phone.
-Manly Men! I like it very much. Hot hot hot! I will take this opportunity to show you what a real man is.
Took.
After talking with Trump.
I ran into the annex completely forgetting about the butts I had piled up on the floor.
“Everyone, were you listening to the conversation?”
Jesse and my friends nodded their heads with their eyes wide open.
“Trump is going to brag about this lobbying on social media. We need to get ready before he starts playing.”
Jesse nods slightly and looks back at his friends.
“Hey, did you bring what you asked for?”
“of course. I brought a lot of server data and laptops you used at work, as well as our laptops.”
“thank you so much.”
“But can you work with that body? Looking at the wound, I think I need to rest.”
Jesse stands up as if to show off that he’s fine.
Her expression looked calm, but from the way she clenched her teeth, you could tell that it wasn’t okay at all.
“I’m okay. And you guys will help me too. is not it?”
Jesse’s friends seemed to have noticed her condition already. But I pretend not to know and nod my head.
Finally, Jesse’s determined gaze returns to me.
“Let’s give Maduro a proper shot.”
* * *
Maduro recently moved four tonnes of gold bullion from the central bank of Venezuela to a gold refinery in Uganda.
He planned to launder the gold bars, use some for the lobby, and hide the rest as his own slush fund.
However, as soon as the gold was moved overseas, rumors spread on social media.
[Maduro stole 80 tons of gold bullion from Venezuela’s national treasury abroad. Currently, Venezuela’s central bank is empty.]
Even photos of the empty bank interior were being spread to dismiss it as simple nonsense.
In response, the Venezuelan government strongly protested and threatened to punish anyone who shared related social media.
By the time you want the case to be over, a follow-up comes from the United States.
“Is Trump revealing? What do you mean by that?”
“An audio file of a phone call with the President has been uploaded to his SNS account.”
Maduro quickly manipulated his phone and accessed Trump’s social media.
The following message was posted along with the audio file on the SNS he just uploaded.
[The dictator of Venezuela has made a dirty proposal. He tried to tarnish the great American honor. It is an act that cannot be forgiven.]
[I, Trump, the 45th President-elect of the United States of America, will never sit idly by.]
[As soon as I take office, I will impose the maximum possible economic sanctions along with a ban on entry from Venezuela.]
Ignoring the previous nonsense, the wording in the last message was too strong.
Entry bans and maximum possible economic sanctions.
The current economic sanctions alone are causing the country to stumble, but what will happen if stronger sanctions come in here?
“You old clown! Do you act like you would do it in front of you and then hit the back of the head?”
In a fit of rage, Maduro saw a phone, a vase, and a glass lying on the table. Picks up and throws anything that can be caught in one’s hand.
“You, Trump, you son of a b*tch! How many years do you think you’ll be president? I will kill you. The next time we meet, I will really kill you!”
Maduro stopped fighting only when his stamina ran out and he was gasping for breath.
“omg… … omg… … Bring water quickly.”
“yes?”
“Bring some water!”
As the employee leaves the room as if to run away, the finance minister, who has been watching from the entrance since before, sneaks in.
“I have bad news, Mr. President.”
“What else?”
“A protest has taken place in the center of Caracas demanding the resignation of the President.”
Maduro snorts and puts a cigarette in his mouth.
“Don’t make a fuss. It wasn’t just one or two protests.”
The Treasury Secretary quickly lights his cigarette.
“This protest is so large that the police alone cannot handle it.”
“Bitter, what is the reason for protesting?”
“It’s because the virtual currency withdrawal system is down.”
Maduro tilts his head while crinkling his forehead.
“what? If you can’t withdraw cryptocurrency, you’ll go to the company and ask. Why did you come to our side and make a fuss?”
“From last week, rumors that the government completely bans virtual currencies and even collects them have been circulating on social media. Then, suddenly, it gets eaten… … .”
“You thought we blocked it and did that?”
“That’s right.”
Maduro kicks the overturned chair again.
“Do you protest only by believing in SNS posts? That’s why we call them pigs.”
“There is an influence of social media agitation, but it seems that the resentment of the people due to the recent bad news has also played a part.”
“Don’t worry if it’s public sentiment. It will turn over soon.”
The OPEC meeting will be held tomorrow night in Vienna, Austria.
As OPEC members and 11 non-member countries have already taken the lead by cutting production, oil prices will skyrocket as soon as the results of the meeting come out.
“It is only a matter of time before the economy recovers when oil prices rise. If I sprinkle feed then the barking pigs will be quiet.’