Miss Beautiful C.E.O and her system

Chapter 762: Only interest endures

Ling Qingyu didn't bother to care about legitimacy issues or human factors. She had no such worries.

The reason lay in her methods, because she never intended to support a single entity. Although she never sought to oppress people, resistance would always exist if a single party reigned.

Such was the reason republic and democratic nations utilized multi-party or dual-party systems—to transfer hatred, in addition to preventing authoritarian cliques from forming again.

Likewise, most people were a collective group of sand bound together through interests. And she planned to transform her Spirit Group into that hidden interest.

Establishing many smaller organizations was far better than one large group with centralized and efficient management.

In her plan, with Athena's oversight and a thorough new system devoid of redundancy, efficiency was the key component of her building blocks.

Like a corporate style—which might not sound applicable to nation-building, much less an alliance of future states.

After all, governance required the utmost attention to detail with no room for mistakes, since mistakes would cost far more than money could compensate.

In corporate culture, she could afford to fail. But failures in national governance suggested terrible losses of savings for ordinary people, to say the least—and at worst, many would lose their lives.

Redundancy ensured such situations were minimized, with multiple layers of oversight to the point of exhausting people.

However, Ling Qingyu chose a middle ground, because Athena solved numerous problems—even if relying on AI sounded unreliable and seemed to discourage human participation.

Of course, this was because Athena behaved better than human beings, lacking the slightest sign of machinery—and she was her own daughter. If she didn't pamper her family member, who would?

Unlike capitalist corporations that always sought profits over humanity, Ling Qingyu's reliance on AI didn't mean she abandoned manpower. Although these topics were far from her current goals—since the nations were amid collapse, much less possessing industrial capabilities—Ling Qingyu already had a plan in mind.

She would never allow a collective power grouping under her watch. So long as enough benefits were given, people could be easily satisfied.

Only ambitious parties would think about forming large groups, which would then lead to rebellion or threaten her in the future for their own agendas.

Hence, Ling Qingyu merely planned to teach the people more than just basic survival, but not beyond that. Higher technology was destined to be restricted—not because she didn't trust them, although that was partly true—but because she knew for a fact that selfish individuals would find a way to arm themselves and then kick her out.

Perhaps, they might portray her as a notorious villain and ruthless colonizer rallying the population in the name of nationalism as propaganda, completely forgetting who had pulled them out of despair. She didn't desire gratitude much less partook a thankless task.

In her past life, Japan was such a nation, though it was an outright extreme comparison. Most people wouldn't agree with her, but from her perspective, the nation had indeed compensated the countries it had terrorized in the past through direct monetary payments and financial economic aid.

For ASEAN nations and Korea, huge direct compensation followed, with the government even attempting to compensate victims who had suffered under their brutal militarists—particularly those subjected to the infamous use of comfort women. Nonetheless, these efforts were hindered by the victim states, which requested that the money go through their governments along with the original amounts.

Those sums flowed into national investments and rebuilding efforts, followed by Japanese economic aid and donations to make up for the past. Investments came later as well, though many argued that Japanese capitalists also benefited from such actions, making the topic prone to endless debates over who gained more.

However, in the 21st century, these governments began to stir up historical grievances among their people again in order to redirect their citizens' hatred. Alas, the most commonly used tool since ancient times—nationalism—remained effective, as people rarely learned the deeper lessons.

During those years of compensation, ordinary families often didn't know that the Japanese government had made payments, because they never personally received what they believed they deserved.

As for why China was the least compensated, the matter was far more complicated than most assumed. A deeper analysis revealed the turmoil of the civil war era, during which the recognized government merely requested warships, while Mao himself and his supporters were more concerned with securing recognition for their government.

Not to mention, internally, some believed that without Japan, it would have been nearly impossible to weaken the original rulers—much less allow the revolution to succeed. A cold, agonizing truth.

Moreover, it was clear Japan's status as puppet under US which prevented any support to the communist countries.

In any case, deeper investments and business cooperation followed, working together to revitalize the economy—another form of economic aid through infrastructure investment, loans and transfer of technology. As for how much Japan truly felt remorse toward China, that remained uncertain among the ruling classes.

After all, century-long historical antagonism was far harder to resolve than younger generations imagined.

The only despicable aspect, in her view for Japan, was the reluctance to fully acknowledge historical truths, leaving younger generations unaware or blind to the atrocities. Worst of all was the lack of an unequivocal official apology for certain crimes. As for why the nation hesitated to confess, Ling Qingyu paid no heed.

After all, if she pursued that line of thought further, it would spiral into endless controversies—every nation demanding apologies from another when history was examined closely. No one's ancestors were entirely innocent.

Regardless, she believed it was a mistaken notion among the public to think that Japan had never offered compensation for its mistakes—an idea easily manipulated by politicians while people failed to think critically for themselves.

Not that Ling Qingyu couldn't understand or sympathize with the grievances. She, too, disliked those who ignored their mistakes—much less the fact that some war criminals had never faced proper tribunals.

Maybe, most victims genuinely wanted a simple real apology and public recognition from the Japanese government rather than the financial aspects. Hopefully, a word of apology appeared in her past world soon than the denials. Some ordinary people in public had come to realize and sincerely felt remorse.

Hopefully such good transformation didn't become ruined by political manipulations and geopolitical tensions. Alas, Ling Qingyu even wanted to know how her nearly volatile past life had changed from Miss System.

Of course, compared to Germany's performance, Japan's was inferior in every context—at least from a simplistic worldview. Nothing in geopolitics was ever straightforward, no matter how ordinary people imagined it to be. The complications behind the scenes weighed far more than the revised history found in textbooks.

If one truly wanted to point fingers, the US couldn't escape responsibility either. Likewise, former colonies and their conquerors all shared their share of burdens.

In any case, from this context, Ling Qingyu understood never to rely too much on others' gratitude. Many experiences had taught her that people easily forgot and sometimes became tools for the ruling parties. One moment they might support you because of benefits; the next, they would grow angry because others had "shed light" on you as the evil manipulator.

Setting aside morality and basic rights, Ling Qingyu believed that her plan compensated for every aspect and excelled in comparison to others. She dared to swear that no one else would treat them better than she would—and she wasn't being narcissistic.

Otherwise, if one ignored the corrupt nature and behavioral flaws within those systems, countries in Elephant Continent and the Middle Kingdom would have developed far more with their abundant resources.

Therefore, crucial core resources must not be handed over easily, despite the moral dilemma of extracting what belonged to others. Alas, managing a country wasn't easy—much less an alliance—even if she had no intention of sitting on the throne, thereby minimizing such risks.

Hearing Ling Qingyu's concerns, Xiao Yue affirmed her initial contemplation of a ruler's game—playing a balance between a failed state government and her parallel underground version of control.

Had she known Ling Qingyu's caution stemmed from the comparison with Japan, she would have fought hard—even with a high probability of losing—to prove why flowers could be reddened. This warlord was destined to become enemies with devils if she ever returned to her own world.

However, at least she could dream of saving her compatriots from atrocities through Ling Qingyu's hands and preventing future tragedies.

Seeing Ling Qingyu pause in thought, along with the cute expression that made her want to ruffle her hair, Xiao Yue asked, "What's wrong?"

"Aiya, I feel like my head is about to go bald from considering so many angles. Heck, I never realized playing Civilization is so hard in reality. Why do games make it so easy to raise my ambitions? Huh?"

Xiao Yue covered her lips and giggled at Ling Qingyu's frustrated complaints. She didn't comment further because she understood Ling Qingyu's inner persistence.

What the latter truly wanted was nothing more than to release some of the pressure that had built up before reality shifted.