Chapter 66
Chapter 66
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 66
Chapter Title: Even Pirates Have Their Uses (3)
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One of the bound Japanese pirates spat at me and unleashed a torrent of curses.
"I'd sooner believe a dog can speak human words than trust a word you say. Looking at you, with that pale face and delicate build, you're just the type for wakashudō! How about it? Care to share the glory of my bed?"
Whether he died here or there, he was going to die anyway, so was he trying to bluff his way out with some bravado before the end?
Choice is free, but this guy was truly something else.
To hurl double curses at me—a man who could inflict all sorts of torture on him—practically begging me not to shove something up there.
If this bastard had been born in the 21st century, he'd have made a fine keyboard warrior.
As I chuckled, the interpreter shot me a deeply troubled look.
He was probably wondering if translating such words verbatim wouldn't bring trouble down on himself.
Of course, I had no intention of punishing the interpreter.
"Kim Hundo."
"Yes, my lord."
"These pirates seem to be spouting nonsense because they haven't eaten properly. Bring some rice, soybean paste soup, grilled fish, and kimchi. Once they've had a meal, they'll stop with the drivel."
No matter what I said, these guys wouldn't believe me.
According to Joseon's national law, all Japanese pirates were sentenced to death, regardless of the severity of their crimes.
The pirate leader would face dismemberment, while his underlings got the full decapitation.
They knew that much, so they couldn't possibly believe my promise to spare them.
To extract any information from them, I first had to demonstrate that I had no intention of killing them.
'Giving food to starving men sends the message that you're letting them live.'
Let's melt their hearts bit by bit, very slowly.
"Understood. I don't know what you see in these scum, but as you command, sir."
Before long, the pirates were served a lavish meal where rice was the star.
We untied their ropes just enough to let them eat inside the cell.
The moment they entered, they devoured the food like men possessed.
Some even shed tears while eating.
If they were mere criminals driven by desperation to survive, I might have felt a pang of sympathy.
How starved must they have been to eat like that?
Of course, these were trash who'd stabbed and slaughtered Joseon folk left and right while looting everything—they didn't deserve the slightest pity.
Once they'd finished their meal, the pirates were dragged back out, seated, and bound again by hands and feet.
"Now, let's ask again. Who among you holds the highest rank? Answer honestly, and you'll get an equally generous dinner. Speak freely."
"The captain was struck down by Joseon arrows. Among us survivors, I'm the highest."
"What's your name?"
"Tanaka Tarō."
"A family name means you're a samurai, I take it."
Tarō nodded at my words.
"Who is the lord you serve? And where are you from?"
"I'm just a wandering samurai and pirate, nothing more."
"What made you turn to piracy?"
"What other reason does a ronin have for banditry? Survival. Eating to live. The men here are much the same. No other way to get by."
Historians classify these types as livelihood criminals.
And indeed, up to that era, Japan was no place fit for human habitation.
The land wasn't barren, and the climate was far better for rice farming than Joseon's...
But the Japanese were perpetually locked in civil wars, past and present, while the shogunate, shugo daimyo, and samurai squeezed out massive taxes.
Japan's effective real tax rate back then was 50%.
Factor in all the under-the-table graft, and out of 2 million won earned, you'd pocket maybe 400,000.
So impoverished peasants, short on food, banded together to raid prosperous neighboring Joseon.
For the record, daimyo short on cash would don 'pirate cosplay' and raid Joseon too—a common occurrence.
"Is the reason you struggle to survive the Ming and Joseon's maritime bans?"
Tanaka Tarō flinched at my question.
As expected, this one was no ordinary livelihood pirate.
He claimed no lord, but if the bans made survival impossible...
I couldn't guess his exact rank as a samurai, but pinpointing his regional affiliation was easy.
"The one you serve is the lord of Tsushima, isn't it?"
"Didn't I say I have no lord?"
Hmm. That reaction confirmed it—he served Tsushima's lord.
With the groundwork for vital intel laid, it was time to end this tedious probing.
"Truth be told, I don't care if you serve Tsushima's lord or not. He claims to control all pirates, but did you think the Joseon court was clueless about the lie? We knew full well and pretended to be fooled out of pity for you."
Joseon periodically sent precious goods, rice, and beans to Tsushima to keep the pirates in check.
The reason? Tsushima's location made it the perfect pirate hub.
Naturally, this led to the misconception that its ruler was the pirate kingpin.
Saying this might make me seem like a lunatic insulting Joseon for falling for false info and sending tribute...
Joseon obsessed maniacally over the Jurchens, cataloging even the populations and chieftain families near the border during King Danjong's era...
But pirates came from across the sea, posing no existential threat, and planting spies in distant Japan was impossible—so they were sorely neglected.
Tsushima's lord exploited this, strutting as pirate overlord right up until the shogunate's formation, reaping massive gains.
The interpreter's face briefly betrayed shock.
What I'd revealed was knowledge unknown to anyone in Joseon.
Of course, I could always claim it was 'bluffing' to deceive the enemy later.
"You lied first, so why shouldn't Joseon? We'll call you a vassal of Tsushima's lord and lodge a protest with your mighty shogun. Think the Shōni clan will let him off then?"
In short, the Tsushima conquest had little effect on curbing pirates.
But it was enough to instill fear of Joseon in the Ashikaga shogunate.
'The Ming ignored small pirate raids on their coasts without striking back, but these Joseon dogs actually fired cannons at us?'
Surviving records show the Ashikaga trembling at Joseon's might.
Not that it mattered much in the end—no textbook on the Tsushima campaign mentions 'the Ashikaga shogunate feared Joseon.'
Tsushima's current lord owned the island and some northern Kyushu estates as a vassal of the Shōni clan.
Once the Shōni fell to the Ashikaga shogun, Tsushima might survive, but the odds of confiscating those Kyushu lands—and Tsushima's granaries under their watch—were sky-high.
Plus, to appease Joseon, which might muster over 10,000 troops against Kyushu, they'd lop off a few Tsushima samurai heads as tribute.
"Even so, I can't trust you! Just kill me!"
Hmm. This so-called highest-ranking samurai pirate looked useless.
Well, I'd already extracted all I needed from him anyway.
These captured pirates hailed from Tsushima, raiding Joseon out of desperation to survive.
Time to question another.
But first, this antisocial pirate leader had outlived his value...
"Break that one."
As the brutal pirate endured torture, the others—who'd relaxed after stuffing themselves—went pale.
"Answer well, and I might let you live. Refuse to cooperate, and I'll make you beg for a swift death."
Even drill instructors say they can be demons or angels depending on you.
After discharge, it sounds trivial...
But in service, those words terrify, because a demonic instructor dreams up excruciatingly creative punishments.
I was serving them an amplified version.
Plant hope of feasts and survival for obedience; for defiance, torments that reduce them to pleas for death.
"Now, your name? And why did you become a pirate? Answer honestly, and rice for dinner tonight."
Their responses to the same questions were identical.
They'd turned to piracy to survive, they said.
They'd fallen for my leading questions.
"So most who became pirates, including from Tsushima, lived off trade with Joseon?"
"There are two kinds of pirates. One: desperate peasants scraping together cash for a single boat, charging blindly into the sea for loot. Two: like us, led by samurai from daimyo houses."
We often see samurai as 'officers' and their men as 'grunts'...
Reality differs. Samurai spanned noncoms, officers, generals.
This highest pirate, Tanaka, equated to a lowly noncom in our modern army.
Yet as a samurai-led 'regular' force, no mere peasant could challenge him.
Truthfully, the latter posed the real threat to Joseon.
In a gunpowder era, maybe not—but without guns, villagers banding together could fend off sword-wielding mobs.
"If Joseon resumes trade, we won't raid as pirates."
That was the answer I wanted.
In real history, when King Sejong increased Tsushima's trade via the Treaty of Gyehae, pirate invasions plummeted.
But this alone wouldn't justify borrowing the wisdom of milk-in-tea-sipping Brits that stunned Jo Mal-saeng.
And I doubted they'd stop raiding Joseon entirely once trade reopened.
They'd just focus on the Ming instead.
"What if we granted unlimited trade to other daimyo besides Tsushima's lord? They'd behave similarly, right?"
"Yes... so please spare us..."
I cut them off before they finished.
These pirates deserved death—why promise mercy and risk misunderstanding?
To King Sejong, I'd send a secret missive via Jo Mal-saeng: How about opening trade with Japan in exchange for redirecting their pirates to the Ming?