Chapter 37
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 037
Chapter Title: Open the Country of Joseon (4)
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Even though the British troops hadn't set foot inside Hanyang's city walls, the markets of Hanyang were already half in ruins.
Houses and furnishings lay half-smashed everywhere, and refugees who had collapsed mid-flight while packing their belongings were sprawled across every street, fast asleep.
If the British army had actually entered Hanyang, it would have been far worse. Destruction, massacres, rapes, and arson would have run rampant.
This was holding up pretty well, all things considered.
I entered the palace and had a private audience with the king, just the two of us.
"Your Highness. Have you been well since we last parted?"
"I've had this rage bubbling in my gut like a boil or an abscess, always there. But then some divine physician came along, and I vomited up three seok of blood. It was like all that anger just washed clean out of my body."
Was that rage truly born from the oppression of the noble clans, or was it from the invasion by foreign barbarians?
A nagging doubt told me it might be the latter, but I decided to push only the former.
"The parasites and lice that survived by feeding off the scraps from Your Highness's sacred body have finally fallen away. This is truly a great blessing for your subjects."
"Thank you."
We exchanged a few more words like that—utterly soulless pleasantries.
Fitting for the mastermind behind an invasion and the king of a defeated nation.
But I couldn't end it here.
There wouldn't be many more chances—maybe no more at all—for a private word with King Heonjong.
To make the most of this precious moment, I rolled the dice.
"Your Highness, how do you plan to rule this country from here on?"
"...Internally, I intend to comfort the people worn down by the nobles' tyranny. Externally, I aim to build relations with other nations and strengthen our foundations."
I shook my head, impertinently.
"That won't do."
"Then what? Should I submit to Britain as a tributary state and, like in times of turmoil, hand over troops for your sake?"
Heonjong shot back sharply, but I shook my head again.
"If I were acting solely for Britain's benefit, I might say that was the answer. But it's not the right path for Joseon, so it's wrong."
"Ha! You'll tell me the way to save Joseon? Is that truly your intent?"
"I owe my life to Your Highness and the people of this nation, Joseon. I know this is rude and presumptuous, but... I see you as a brother and a friend—the one who once let me ride on his pony and fed me sweets."
The young king fell silent.
A moment later.
"This throne weighs so heavily on me."
"Your Highness."
"Until recently, I was surrounded by the Kim and Jo clans, and countless others besides. I've sent them all away now, but I'm still afraid. Just how far does a king's command reach in this land? Can I even rule as king?"
Yi Hwan, the youth who had shed his kingly mask, sounded utterly exhausted even through his voice alone.
Layers of tension and pent-up rage still gripped him tight, and now both Joseon and Yi Hwan himself were being dragged into a darkening world.
"At least no one's here now. Yes. If you defy me at this point, I'll ship you straight off to Kim Ja-geun's side."
"......"
"Little brother. What do you want to tell this foolish older brother of yours? You're all grown up now, so I can't give you a pony ride anymore, but my ears still work. I can listen."
I raised my head.
"I've studied all the knowledge of East and West—a truly rare opportunity in this world. And from that, I've come to a realization."
"What is it?"
"The East will all perish."
"Why?"
Surprisingly, Yi Hwan didn't rage or hurl his inkstone. Instead, he asked a question.
As if wondering why this equation yielded such a result.
As if questioning why this problem's answer was this.
I sensed it intuitively.
Yi Hwan trusted me.
Whether from the desperation of a cornered man or something else, he skipped the tedious process of dissecting my words and intent.
He just chose to believe.
"The ignorant will shout like this: 'Let's import Western guns and cannons, learn to build big ships. Then we can defend our nation.' Am I wrong?"
"Spot on."
"The West's true power doesn't come from mere guns and cannons. It's the fusion of time, geography, and human effort. They've torn open a world utterly unlike any before. Even if the East learns guns, cannons, and ships, they'll just develop even stronger weapons. They'll grow stronger endlessly with riches plundered from elsewhere, like compound interest compounding forever. The East adds; the West multiplies. We can never catch up."
Inventions and discoveries as the foundation for glory, enshrined in patent systems.
The invisible hand of stock companies and financial markets, hedging risks and rewarding the bold.
A no-holds-barred arena where even capitalists slaughter each other over markets and customers, letting only the most competitive survive.
Millions of modern citizens, trained through mandatory education essential for factories and industry—useless busywork in pre-modern agrarian societies.
The endless growth and progress born from industrialization, modernization, and capitalism intertwined.
Whether they exploit colonies and suck the marrow from others' bones is utterly secondary.
Pre-modern states draw their talent pool from just thousands or tens of thousands of landlords and noble heirs. Modern states turn every one of their tens of millions of citizens—hungry for social mobility and success—into national talent.
Even the snobs of this era prattle vaguely about 'our nation's superiority' or 'superior Christian ethics.'
I know the results of research by smart people centuries from now, gleaned from shallow self-help books and YouTube shorts.
There wasn't nearly enough time to explain it all, and even if I did, would Heonjong—a man not even modern—believe it?
Even so, I did my best to convey the modern world barreling toward us.
"This is the age of warring states. Righteousness and morality are gone. Mad beasts of great powers devour weak nations indiscriminately to keep pace, toppling small countries left and right just to bolster their prestige."
"How chilling."
"I'd rather see Joseon as the devourer than the devoured."
"Haven't you learned the fate of nations that cast aside benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom to rampage arrogantly? What became of Qin Shi Huang's empire?"
"The West will fall someday. But after Qin's collapse, did the six states rise again?"
The day the great powers bury their heads in trench mud and die off will come. But Indians and Pakistanis laughing as they boss around British slaves? Not happening.
Fall behind, and it's over.
Those at the top will kick away the ladder.
The descendants of slaves whipped into labor now will be stitching Nike soccer balls for six cents an hour in 200 years. South Korea was the sole exception. So rant all you want about colonial woes or lingering resentment—the exploiters' heirs won't get it.
For my own survival, I'll twist history itself.
Whether impoverished Joseon becomes that advanced South Korea is now an unknown.
So do your best.
Better to be a slave owner than a slave.
"Does Britain—do you all—plan to turn us into slaves like India?"
"Probably. To claim it as their achievement, expand their territory, and boast of empire's might, countless will come to tear chunks from this land."
The Eastern Expedition fails.
Only a total overhaul like the Meiji Restoration succeeds.
"But as I told you through Heungseon, it conflicts with my interests. So I'll devote body and soul to helping Joseon keep its sovereignty and become a great power."
"And if that fails?"
"...We'll sell it for the highest price possible."
Heonjong let out a disbelieving chuckle, slipping a long pipe between his lips.
"Come to think of it, Asul, do you smoke?"
"Smoking harms the health and rots the lungs."
"Now I see Western medicine is worthless. King Jeongjo said drawing one puff makes your head spin and fills your lungs with vigor."
What the hell is this madman saying? Does he think 21st-century medicine is bullshit?
But on reflex, I approached, struck a match, and lit it for him.
"This is that... match, is it?"
"Yes. No need to fuss with flint and steel."
"If these spread to every corner of the land, no daughters-in-law in all eight provinces would have to stay up all night tending embers."
-Kuh. His first thought on seeing a match is compassion for the people. Why don't you learn something from that, you bloodthirsty imperialist?
As I stood speechless in disbelief, Heonjong smoothly pulled a small bear-shaped pipe from beside him and handed it to me.
"What have you been doing as an official, not even learning to smoke? Light one up in front of your elder."
"Isn't it against Joseon etiquette to set out betel leaves and then smoke?"
"Didn't you just bluster about abandoning propriety and becoming a beastly nation? This is the first step. Hurry and light it. Or do you still cling to some Confucian teachings making you hesitate?"
No, fuck. Yi Ha-eung was like this, and now his whole family defaults to sophistry? If I refuse here, it'll be 'Hah, Neo-Confucianism wins'?
I had no idea where he picked up this skill without training, but whatever—I had to smoke it.
Fuck. It's insanely spicy and bitter. Feels like he just wanted to mess with me.
"Didn't you say to build a nation without class distinctions, a land of bastards? How's the taste of bastard?"
"Tears are welling up in my eyes."
"Strictly speaking, this is Confucian teaching too. When the masses learn and practice the Way, that's what the state should promote. So those 'modern citizens' are just yangban in the end, aren't they?"
What? No? Why's your logic suddenly jumping around like that? If I were grading this essay, it'd be an instant F.
"My turn to question you."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"What's the most urgent matter for this country right now?"
"Training a powerful army."
"Ahead of everything else?"
I tried nodding deferentially, but with the pipe in my mouth, I realized I still looked like a punk and half-gave up.
"Qing won't stay quiet for long."
"Didn't you say you'd protect us?"
"Once Japan grasps this harsh reality, they'll quickly conclude they must enslave Joseon to become rich and strong."
Japan's probably getting a taste of black ships and internal strife via crash-course American education by now.
"The shogunate is gripped by corrupt ministers, and local clans dreaming of rebellion everywhere."
"We know that much."
"Then do you know those rebels admire Fengshen Sugil?"
Yi Hwan's face showed bewilderment for the first time.
"Why?"
"The Tokugawa who rule Japan now originally stole Fengshen Sugil's position. The rebels reject Tokugawa rule, so naturally they see Fengshen Sugil—who never opened the shogunate and respected what they call the emperor—as the loyal patriot."
Fengshen Sugil, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, is practically a named plague demon in Joseon lore.
I don't know if the orthodoxy debate exists yet, but how would Joseon folks verify it? Just go with it.
"To fend off threats within and without, we need a stronger army than ever."
"That army's all gone now."
Your fault, hung unspoken in the air, loud as ever.
Time for the main point.
"The world's finest troops are undoubtedly the British army. If Your Highness seeks their advice in training a new force, you could raise East Asia's strongest without issue."
Military advisory group.
No point in Koreans training a Korean army—the output will always be Korean. We need to mold it Western-style from the skeleton up for a modern force.
"You're an envoy, but can you decide on something as vital as military affairs?"
"It may be unfamiliar to Your Highness, but the office ruling India commands 300,000 troops separately from the British army. It's like a mercenary force."
British military advisors might be a stretch right now, even in my book.
But what about the East India Company army?
They're hemorrhaging money—always whining about losses.
"Your Highness. Just stamp here, and the world's strongest army will train your soldiers for you."
"Uh, um. Your tone's suddenly changed—"
"No time like now! Cheap prices! While the East India Company army—that crushed India and burned Guangzhou—is still here! The mightiest force as your royal guard!"
If I just gorged on personal gain and dragged a treaty back to London, it'd just get my head smashed.
But rope in the East India Company?
Their shareholders are all high officials and nobles.
- Hey. Hey hey.
What?
- The East India Company... isn't it getting dissolved soon?
Exactly why I said now or never.
Short a stock you know is delisting—what else you gonna do?