Chapter 2
Chapter 2
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Pressure for the Sequel
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"Hey, loosen up that face. Someone might think you're at a funeral."
Morris sipped at his steaming herbal tea, smirking as he teased me.
The guy flashed a cheeky grin and started poking fun at me in that smug way of his.
"The whole school's buzzing about it, man. Students from every background are losing their minds over Admiral Li."
Admiral Li.
It's a suitably isekai-fied version of Admiral Yi Sun-sin's name, and the title of the play.
I'd loosely framed it as a tale from some distant eastern land.
'Lucky for me this world's full of orientalism.'
Turquerie, Chinoiserie, Japonaiserie—the kind of cultural fantasies Westerners projected onto the East.
Orientalism was that trendy fad where Westerners romanticized the exotic mystique of the Orient from their Eurocentric lens.
The Holy Empire in this world had a similar cultural current, so it blended right in.
Thanks to that, the costumes weren't historically accurate, and the names got tweaked just a bit, but it was unavoidable if I wanted to meet the audience where they were.
Take Puccini's masterpiece opera Turandot—it's set in China, but you've got Altoum the emperor and Princess Turandot with their bizarre, nationality-free names, right?
Still, I couldn't fully bask in the success.
Because I'd gone way too big with it.
"Whoa! You know Admiral Li too? It's seriously so freaking fun!"
"Dude, I haven't seen it yet. Is Admiral Li really that exciting? Isn't it just another one of those dime-a-dozen plays?"
"What? You haven't seen Admiral Li? What cave have you been living in?"
"Dime-a-dozen? Get lost. I won't waste words on low-class trash like you."
On the way to class, during lectures, even back in the dorms—everyone was talking about Admiral Li.
They kept yammering "Li Li Li" so much I was starting to get a nervous tic.
If it'd just been a modest hit, I might've bragged and revealed myself.
It'd prove I'd given those arrogant theater jerks a proper humbling.
But this level of success made coming clean a huge hassle.
"That naval battle in Admiral Li! Wasn't that scene insane?"
"When the crane wing formation spread out? Gave me chills! Crushing the enemy's morale in one decisive victory—kyaa!"
"And when the ironclad turtle ships showed up? The playwright who wrote Admiral Li is a god!"
That's the Battle of Hansan.
Roughly the midpoint of the story.
The theater I scripted for was a top-tier troupe even by the capital's standards.
They had all sorts of magic props, and since the venue had once been a coliseum, they could pull off mock sea battles on a massive scale—perfect for depicting Admiral Li's exploits without a hitch.
Of course, turning the admiral's entire life into a play meant a lot of compression and adaptation.
For instance, I cut or narrated over the battles besides Hansan and Myeongnyang for pacing.
Okpo, Sacheon, Danghangpo, Angolpo, and so on.
Dragging them all in would've made the play never end.
Plus, I trimmed most of the Imjin War figures who weren't essential.
Won Gyun, Ryu Seong-ryong, Todo Takatora—the core players needed for Admiral Li's saga.
I figured keeping just them would heighten immersion by streamlining the spine of the story.
"Ugh, but that damn traitor Woken! I thought I'd get cancer watching that scum."
"That bastard wrecked Admiral Li's invincible fleet! Even those awesome turtle ships! I nearly bawled when the turtle ships sank for real!"
"He's always slandering Admiral Li, stealing his achievements, strutting around like an incompetent fool, then blowing the whole fleet— the actor was so good it made me even madder!"
"But his death was so satisfying! Even the enemy general spat on him in disgust—what a riot. Heh."
This was the Battle of Chilcheollyang.
It hurt my heart writing the part where Korea's prized navy got smashed like Altaran chaff.
Oh, and Woken's the localized Won Gyun, by the way.
I cranked up his villainy on purpose to rile the audience—way more infuriating than the real history.
Boosted his incompetence, his scumbag personality, his shameless ambition a hundredfold.
But I gave the crowd a big refreshing payoff at his death.
Instead of just vanishing after Chilcheollyang like in real history, I had him grovel before the enemy general, offering to be their vanguard invader if spared—only for the general to snap in revulsion, curse him out, and lop off his head.
Might as well go all out since I was writing a play about Admiral Li. Who's gonna complain about a playwright's license?
"Hey, Balthazar. But listen."
Morris, mid-sip of his tea, asked slyly.
"That Admiral Li story you dreamed up. Is that really the end of it?"
"What're you talking about?"
"Come on, it ends at this weird point. Twelve ships taking down 133 enemy vessels—cool, but then what? It didn't feel like the right stopping spot."
The Myeongnyang victory.
In reality, it was 13 with the late-joining panokseon, more if you count scouts, but I stuck to 12 for dramatic punch.
'How'd he figure that out?'
That there's one more massive event after Myeongnyang?
"You're not the only one thinking that, right?"
Morris shrugged with a dramatic flair.
"Most students are hyped for a sequel. They love Admiral Li, but the ending feels cut off—like a nagging flaw in a gem."
"R-Really?"
The script I wrote for Admiral Li ends at Myeongnyang.
My first go at a script, so portion control was tricky, and I figured a happy ending beat a sad one.
Especially since the Battle of Noryang—the third great victory Koreans hail alongside Hansan and Myeongnyang—ends with Admiral Li dying to enemy bullets.
Whether I botched the ending or the real history gave this world's folks an uncanny familiarity, who knows.
But the key point? The folks who'd seen Admiral Li sniffed out the hidden truth.
"Well, I did have some ideas..."
"You do? I knew it!"
...What's with this guy?
We've been friends since birth, but I've never seen him this pumped.
Like a kid ripping open Santa's Christmas gift, that gleeful thrill of uncovering a secret treasure no one else knows.
"Sigh, fine. I do have something, but I was gonna scrap it."
"What? Why? Why on earth? What's the reason?"
"...Is it really that disappointing?"
Sorry, Morris, but I was dead serious.
Plays aren't movies or dramas serialized on "to be continued."
A play needs a complete arc—beginning, rise, climax, fall—in one script.
If the audience feels the story cuts off abruptly, it's already a failure.
And with hype this high, dropping a sequel?
Based on a historical event slated for a heroic but tragic end?
No thanks—for someone planning to graduate quick and coast in the family estate.
Seeing my stubborn face, Morris smoothly changed the subject.
"You hear about the students planning protests lately?"
"Protests? What protests?"
"What else? Protests demanding the Admiral Li sequel. You know how mad people get when a story cuts off mid-sentence? They're gearing up to swarm the theater with picket signs."
What is this, a weekly serial magazine?
Storming a theater to demand the next installment? Come on.
"Don't believe me? Look around. Can't you see everyone's getting a bit riled up?"
To prove his point, Morris gestured at the surroundings amid my dumbfounded look.
There, a cluster of academy cadets gathered with solemn faces, steeling their resolve.
"Everyone! If our theory's right, this is blatant theater tyranny! Cutting off Admiral Li's saga right at the most thrilling part! Is there any cruelty like this in the world?!"
"Right! I've been sleepless for three days straight, dying to know Admiral Li's backstory!"
"I've lost my appetite and dropped weight! Look! My wrist's all bony now!"
"Actually, you could stand to lose a bit..."
"Shut up!"
Well, aren't they bonding nicely.
It was a childish spectacle that only drew a hollow chuckle, but Morris was right—I couldn't just ignore it.
Brond Academy was where the empire's top talents gathered.
If its cadets kept protesting, it could escalate into a real issue.
"Plus, dude, you're so chill you probably don't know this either?"
Morris tsked at me, curling his lip smugly.
Then he dropped the bombshell that nailed the coffin shut on the situation.
"Even Prince Wolfgang is sleeplessly awaiting the Admiral Li sequel?"
"What?"
"Pretending you don't know would be disloyalty. If the imperial guard hauls you off later, don't say I didn't warn you. You know how His Majesty the Emperor and Her Highness the Princess indulge the young prince's whims?"
...Shit.
"Fine. I get it."
Just write the damn thing.
This godforsaken monarchy. So damn annoying.