Chapter 60
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 060
Chapter Title: The Sprouts of Capitalism (5)
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My plan to graft fresh, healthy British-style capitalism onto Joseon is proceeding in truly diverse ways.
But why is this happening?
The world's greatest artist, Park In-ho, is putting his heart and soul into refining Joseon, yet instead of becoming Britain Mk. II, it feels like it's steadily turning into... Prussia.
Actually, I know the answer.
Britain is the only country in the world that achieved industrialization and modernization spontaneously, while all other nations rolled up their sleeves after witnessing Britain's results to catch up.
No matter how much I say, "This stuff is killer, come on, try it!", no sane pre-modern person would touch it. So, capitalism is something you can only force down their throats after tying up their limbs and blindfolding them.
Top-down reforms inevitably lead to Prussian-style changes. It's a form of convergent evolution. But what can you do when that's the most effective method?
I've been giving my all to advise Joseon, so no one should complain if I realize a modest profit now.
My first target: the Gyeonggang merchants.
Among Joseon's merchants, there are the Song merchants of Kaesong, the Man merchants of Uiju, the inner merchants of Dongnae, the Yu merchants of Pyongyang, and so on... but none match the massive power of the Gyeonggang merchants.
The Song and Man merchants are managed through a connection named Im Sang-ok.
They used the Geumseong Merchant Association—Leigh & Gladstone Company, in other words—as a buffer for their China trade, borrowing the grace of the Union Jack to reap enormous profits.
I haven't been to the northwest since returning to Joseon, but I guarantee I'd be a Michael Jackson-level superstar there. No one is as open to commerce as I am.
Peddler merchants?
They're not that powerful to begin with. Peddlers might have personal martial prowess or information networks, but they don't have much money. If they did, they'd open shops and settle down—why wander?
And the inner merchants are waiting.
Waiting for this great black-ship hero, Arthur Leigh, to fling open the Japanese market...
So, what about the Gyeonggang merchants?
"Because of that blue-eyed demon!"
"I'd have no regrets if that bastard just dropped dead..."
"Quiet down. If you value your necks!"
The "Gyeong" in Gyeonggang refers to the capital Hanyang, and "Gang" naturally means rivers like the Han.
They practically monopolized Joseon's river transport and, above all, were entrusted with shipping the grain tribute for the royal supply fleet. Their ties to the power elite go without saying.
They operated places called Yegak, which you can think of as a combo of business motels, large warehouses, banks, and sales agencies. With money and power, they built platforms like big corporations and skimmed commissions.
And since they monopolized river transport, they were deeply involved in shipbuilding, too. Joseon's shipbuilding was essentially theirs.
But circumstances changed.
The pinnacle of their power connections, Kim Ja-geun, suddenly kicked the bucket.
'Kill all the dogs hoarding and price-gouging!'
That's when some Gyeonggang merchants got axed first—the ones not tight enough with Kim Ja-geun.
Then Kim Ja-geun himself got beaten to death with a staff.
With the national treasury in ruins, King Heonjong and his cronies slapped "treason" charges on the surviving merchants. A good number of Gyeonggang merchants ended up hanged.
And the finishing blow came from yours truly, Arthur Leigh.
"Joseon's shipbuilding technology is woefully outdated. I'll provide you with the finest vessels, so you'll suffer no more from the royal supply fleet."
"Obtaining you is truly the kingdom's great fortune!"
The court handing over the rights so cleanly wasn't just out of fear of British big sticks.
The Gyeonggang merchants' abuses were beyond imagination.
Skimming some or all of the grain shipments.
Adding water to the grain to swell it, then skimming the increased volume.
Deliberately sinking entire supply ships.
Market manipulation through hoarding. And not with luxuries, but rice—the lifeline. They'd done this crap so much it sparked riots.
Now that all those bastards were executed and their assets confiscated, leaving everything in chaos...
Leigh & Gladstone Company snatched the Gyeonggang merchants' core rights—the royal supply fleet and river transport—and seized control of Joseon's logistics.
But what can you do about it?
They'd muscled their way in, insisting no one could replace them, gorged for years, and now faced substitution. Why hold a grudge against me?
Leigh & Gladstone bought up decent ships from China and India like crazy, and sold the leftovers cheap to other merchants. The traditional shipyards the Gyeonggang merchants controlled all shut down from lack of work, and the unemployed boatmen and sailors got hired on good terms by our company.
The Yegak they owned? Demolished. Out with those sleazy dives—taste some modern Western-style buildings.
With logistics under control, Joseon's veins are now mine.
Just lay tracks for railroads, and even the nerves will be mine.
As long as the Joseon court doesn't go mad and try nationalizing it all at swordpoint, this alone makes me like a guy who's brought home a golden goose.
"These guys seem to be making suspicious moves..."
"Just crush them. You're not planning to let them be, right?"
"Haha. No worries. How dare foolish merchants opposing the court's policies to fatten their purses look the sun in the face tomorrow?"
That's why power is great.
With the Gyeonggang merchant issue mostly wrapped up, I was about to turn to Japan when...
Something else happened.
Hanyang was peaceful as ever today.
Construction boomed everywhere, yangban sipped coffee or chocolate in cafes, commoners argued in taverns over which wrestling troupe was Hanyang's best.
Hard to believe the whole city nearly burned to ash just recently—it was astonishingly serene.
And I was sitting idly on the porch, staring blankly as I smoked.
Important note: I'm not a smoker. Absolutely not a chain-smoker, nor do I reek of stale tobacco.
Yet here I was, pipe lit and clenched in my teeth. First reason: this pipe was a precious gift from Joseon's king. Second: according to Joseon medicine, tobacco tonifies the stomach, so it was just the right prescription for my queasy gut.
Thus, I am not a smoker.
How long had I been sitting there blankly?
The door burst open, and someone stepped out slowly.
It was the royal physician.
"Congratulations, my lord. She's undoubtedly pregnant."
"R-Really?"
"No doubt."
"Thank you. Thank you so much!"
"His Majesty has already provided some herbs. We'll brew a tonic good for expectant mothers—tell your staff to ensure she takes it morning, noon, and night."
"Thank you! I won't forget this grace!"
"Thank His Majesty, not me."
My mind went blank.
Heonjong and Yi Ha-eung, who used to leer at me with sleazy grins, had stopped after the long wait for news—instead offering genuine sympathy and worry. That was three times worse.
But now that era was over.
First child.
Damn it. In this primitive land, uncivilized 19th century, a pregnant woman's life is as fragile as a fly's. What to do first?
Why didn't I read more medical novels? Should I have tried growing penicillin from moldy bread right after failing the exams?
While I paced frantically, Ridge was utterly calm.
"What's there to worry about?"
"Still, you never know!"
"Nothing will happen. I'm sure. The baby told me. The Lord still has work for me here."
Faith.
Just looking at that clingy ghost beside me chips away at my inner faith.
- Huh? Me?
Yeah. Come to think of it, I've been curious—might as well ask.
Does God really exist with a ragamuffin like you around? If so, is it there? And if there, the Christian God, Buddha, or even the Jade Emperor or Cthulhu waiting?
- There's a proverb ready for idiots like you.
Oh. What is it?
- Revealing heaven's secrets.
Damn. You're kidding?
- I could tell you... but the moment you hear it, your life ends there.
Die? Just from hearing?
- Stop prying, you thick-headed fool. Ending your life doesn't have to mean death... Don't cross the line for mere curiosity. Others live fine without knowing.
Rarely, the Dragon King exuded a truly regal, divine presence, and in that instant, I instinctively knew that submitting would mean anything could happen.
Struck by lightning, turned to a pillar of salt, driven mad, renouncing the world for monkhood, or wandering Joseon in a horsetail hat...
If no God, fine. If yes, my world shatters either way.
Yeah. That's not worth fretting over. Since when was I such a devout believer?
The way to vent this frustration: one method only.
Before rage boils over into apoplexy, expel the seething fury.
But a fine gentleman like me doesn't just lash out—we act for the public good, advancing society a step.
No personal grudges whatsoever.
"Criminal Kim Byeong-yeon, receive this summons!"
"W-What? I'm just a wandering traveler—criminal?"
"Heir to a noble house, shirking national duty to scribble vulgar verses and roam? Abandoning family as the head, fleeing like a coward, bruising your parents' hearts—what if not a crime!"
Kim Byeong-yeon.
The wandering poet of Joseon, far better known as Kim Satgat.
His long journeys ended abruptly in 1854, seized by royal guards on some day and forcibly sent home.
But a lifetime wanderer sitting at home? He'd just mooch off the family.
Ashamed to even face his kids, he dreamed of sneaking away again when...
People swarmed once more.
"Kim Byeong-yeon has roamed all Joseon, dwelling in the lowest places, more versed in the lives of the destitute poor than any gentleman. Thus, we appoint him to the postal service..."
Office?
Postal service?
In a daze, he was suddenly an official—audience with the king, spouting the standard "overwhelmed by imperial grace," then heading to work. Truly bewildering.
"The famous Elder Kim Satgat taking office! Welcome."
"I've roamed my whole life... No idea what official work I can even do."
"No worries, sir. There's something you're perfect for."
Postal service.
And the secret organization beneath: the Secret Correspondence Bureau.
"Just roam as before, and when you spot vermin gnawing at the nation, bring royal guards and beat them down."
"Isn't that... a secret royal inspector?"
"Inspectors only nab corrupt officials. We nab everyone. Perfect timing—higher-ups ordered us to crush merchants still scamming the people, blind to the changing world..."
Kim Satgat.
Wandering resumes.