Chapter 108
Chapter 108
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 108
Chapter Title: Hanyang Great Fire (6)
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To sum it up from the start, this Hanyang Great Fire was far larger in scale than the one in original history.
The blaze consumed 18% of Hanyang, with an estimated 1,200 deaths.
Word has it that if Queen Sohyeon and I hadn't responded with desperate measures, the damage would have been at least double.
Everyone else praised me for handling it so well and insisted there was no reason for me to feel any guilt...
But having seen that horrific scene with my own eyes...
'How could I not feel guilty?'
I now fully understood why firefighters suffer from PTSD.
"Are you really saying you'll personally torture them, Lord Inspector General? You can't do that. This isn't just some ordinary gruesome or cruel business—how could someone as noble as you do it yourself?"
I don't look favorably on torture either.
Twisting someone's shin until the bone is exposed, or piling millstones on their thighs until their leg bones shatter—acts like that are indescribably brutal.
Well, in cases like this, since they're scum who truly deserve to die, even "brutal deeds" would naturally be tolerated...
But I oppose using such torture in routine investigations.
Because if torture becomes standard in interrogations, suspects will confess falsely out of fear, and innocent people could end up executed.
Later, the decisive reason torture was abolished from investigations wasn't human rights concerns—it was because statements obtained under torture turned out to be mostly nonsense.
"Then are your jobs lowly?"
The jailer tilted his head at my words.
"Aren't you the ones stepping up for the bloody, gruesome work others avoid?"
"Yes, that's true..."
"That's truly noble work. During the fire suppression this time, I saw countless people burned to death. Scenes too horrific to look at with open eyes. You torture criminals, but isn't it for the sake of the nation, facing those grim sights?"
The reason people look down on torture experts like Noh Deok-sul is simple.
It's because the people he tortured weren't heinous criminals like serial killers, but admirable figures who fought for independence.
Honestly, if he'd tortured serial killers or demons of the age, he wouldn't have gotten so much hate.
"The ones you torture are traitors, those guilty of grave crimes against superiors, and arsonists like these. They're scum who deserve it."
Treason, when you get down to it, isn't much different from al-Qaeda wannabes dreaming of suicide bombings.
Grave crimes against superiors refer to those who kill or beat their own parents, and by Joseon standards, that's worse than serial murder.
Even by modern standards, public opinion would split on beating parents who chronically abused you—but in Joseon, what can you say?
"Your work is anything but lowly. So for the sake of the ancestral shrines, state altars, and the people, I'll gladly get blood on my hands too."
If we don't root out all their accomplices here, incidents like this could happen again.
Historical records even note another fire the day after the original Hanyang Great Fire.
"Before the torture starts, I heard the Governor of Hanseong is imprisoned here somewhere?"
"Right here, milord."
Governor of Hanseong Min Jeon was in such a pitiful state it was hard to look at.
Unless he'd been charged with treason against King Sejong and King Taejong, making even noble torture applicable, it seemed he'd endured punishments not allowed for yangban.
At least the Min clan was a massive house too big to casually label traitors, even after Min Mu-gu and Min Mu-jil were purged and their power broken.
They'd tortured him short of death or permanent injury, without applying treason charges...
'If I leave him be, he'll just get beheaded.'
Right now, in court, King Sejong is pressuring his officials in his black dragon robe, wielding King Taejong's iron mace, warning that if they don't solve the butcher issue, Joseon is doomed.
The Inner Royal Guard and palace warriors working at Gyeongbok Palace have swapped casual uniforms for armor.
"Governor of Hanseong."
Min Jeon groaned on the floor but crawled to the cell bars like a shot upon hearing my voice.
"Inspector General Kim, please, I beg you... Save me. I'll really die like this. It was all my fault. Truly, please..."
I knew he'd been overworked and had tried his best to devise safety measures.
So his head rolling would feel a bit unfair, honestly.
And right now, funds were needed to aid those who lost homes and were starving due to the fire.
"Do you want to live?"
"Please, just let me live. It was all my fault. Please..."
"It's not impossible. Tell His Highness right now that you'll donate all your wealth— you'll be released within three days."
"All my wealth?"
"Better than being tortured to death and beheaded with those traitors over there, isn't it? And if His Highness takes your situation into account, he'll leave you enough to live leisurely back in your hometown."
"Understood. Please use my wealth for the fire victims. And save me..."
Honestly, if this yangban lost his head, I'd have felt a twinge of discomfort.
He had too many other duties besides installing safety equipment, so he couldn't do that properly—and executing him for the resulting fire damage felt off.
"Take me to the prisoners."
"Yes, milord."
Having dealt with the Governor of Hanseong—the only one here with mitigating circumstances—now it was time to crush the trash who could only atone with death.
Deeper in the prison, over 30 criminals were locked up.
They hadn't been tortured yet, judging by their relatively intact appearance.
"Drag out one who's not the ringleader."
"Yes, milord."
The jailer pulled out one of the arsonists bound with ropes at my command.
He knew he was done for anyway, so he wore a defiant look, like "kill me if you dare."
Damn, you'd think this bastard was some national hero standing tall before torture.
'Like Yi Wan-yong cosplaying An Jung-geun.'
Seeing this petty thief who set the fire, killed masses, and tried to loot while they burned—daring to act arrogant—made my stomach churn.
These bastards really can't be spared.
That's the 501st time I've thought that today alone?
"Why did you set the fire? Confess honestly, and I won't torture you."
Torture-derived confessions aren't that useful in investigations anyway, but thinking of the people you burned alive, some torture is in order.
You deserve to die.
In the most brutal way possible.
"Hahaha, why we set the fire? What a stupid question. Sure, we did it and looted, but if you trace it back, isn't all the blame on you and the king you serve?"
The bastard kept laughing like a madman.
I knew why types like him laugh in situations like this.
Since they're going to die anyway, they force a laugh to pretend they're carefree.
Hypnotizing themselves that they're not afraid of death.
He's straining to leave at least a cool impression on his way out.
But truly strong people don't laugh before death.
They accept it calmly, and if there's time, they write wills with words for family they never said.
They grit their teeth through the terror, hiding any weak trembling.
'What bullshit.'
"We butchers have spent our lives slaughtering cows, horses, and pigs, selling the meat. My father did, my grandfather, my great-grandfather too. In the old Goryeo days, no one batted an eye at how we lived. Then Joseon is built, and they tell lifelong butchers like us to go till fields? How absurd is that?"
The jailers and Royal Secret Service agents nearby tried to shut him up.
But I stopped them.
His words were actually necessary for Joseon.
Bans like the Cow Slaughter Prohibition? Nobody follows them anyway.
Lie that a cow or horse broke a leg, butcher it—no enforcement catches it, and beef sales are practically winked at. What point is there to these frozen bans?
'Better to fully legalize it and breed more cows.'
And while these bastards can't be reformed, as he said, shouldn't we reform the butchers who haven't sinned yet?
"Could we—who've never farmed—do it well? Sure, you gave us land. But what good is land? Villagers despise us as butchers, and the local magistrate dumps every grueling task on us. 'Make wooden vessels as tribute.' 'Weave reed baskets as tribute.' Total bullshit! We couldn't take it and ran off! So we turned to petty theft to survive—all your fault, and your king's! Oh, one regret though."
"What's that?"
"Should've burned bigger and raped more women! Forced ones taste the best. Ever known the joys of the bedchamber? Nah, you wouldn't."
"Done talking?"
"Yeah. Kill me."
Hearing that, I twisted a tourniquet onto his thigh.
Then, with the jailers, we twisted it tight.
I'd love to keep scum like this alive forever, torturing him day and night—but can't.
For the victims' sake, I'll wreck his body completely before execution.
"I'll make you beg for a quick death."