The Imo Mutiny (2)

The ninth of June.

For ambitious men, the nights in Hanseong never slept. And Unhyeongung Palace, where the old monster who had stepped down from power now slumbered, was no exception.

"Urgent news!"

"Urgent dispatch! Open the gates!"

Late in the evening, riders came pounding on the great gates without the slightest restraint, each of them waving the flags strapped to their backs with faces that screamed of crisis. Those who soon stepped through the thrown-open doors started in shock at the atmosphere of the courtyard, honed as cold and sharp as an autumn north wind.

Dozens of keen bayonets and grim-faced warriors were there to greet them.

"Hup—!"

"...Do not be alarmed, all of you. And mind your speech at every turn—there are distinguished persons present."

"Ah. Understood."

The first to receive them was the steward of the estate.

"This way."

Guided into the courtyard, the riders soon found their eyes coloring with surprise, relief, and a rising anticipation, and they resolved then and there to rush to their master with the news.

This is why we pledged our loyalty!

In that forest of soldiers arrayed with sharp spears and an ominous air, they received the conviction that the rope they had grasped—their loyalty and their sacrifice—would soon be repaid in full.

The four champions known as Cheonhajangan, who had been tracking the servants hurrying toward the inner quarters with stern eyes, issued a severe warning to their younger brothers, who could not keep still and twisted this way and that. Their flesh had grown greatly dulled before the wall of time, but their loyalty and devotion toward their master had been tempered all the more in the fires of the years.

"...Do not act rashly."

"None of you are to let your guard down!"

"Yes, sir!"

In this place, lit as bright as midday, dozens of retainers and household servants stood arrayed in the courtyard with tense expressions—warriors who had devoted their loyalty from the days when their master had been a powerless palace prince through the decade of his supremacy.

And in the inner quarters, secret beyond measure, a searing energy filled the air.

"Your Highness, the Daewonwi!"

Among those present, a man of the middle class whose manner seemed light but whose speech and voice were anything but ordinary pleaded toward the high dais. He was Shin Jae-hyo of Baegwon, a man of such outstanding household management that he had founded Dongni Jeongsa, Joseon's first school of pansori—and a loyal confidant of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Daewongun.

"Your Highness! Master Munsuk—Heo Uk—has rallied the officers and men of the Muwiyeong and struck the Gyeonggi Provincial Office with two hundred warriors, capturing Kim Bo-hyeon, former chief of the Seonhye-cheong and Governor of Gyeonggi!"

"Urgent news from the South Gate as well! Three hundred Hun-guk soldiers led by Kim Jang-son, son of the boatman Kim Seon-gong, have liberated Jinsa Baek—Baek Nak-gwan—who was imprisoned in the Uigeumbu dungeons, and have secured the Podocheong!"

"Your Highness... then, your next command!"

The die had been cast, and silence and every gaze turned toward the master of the seat of honor. Tonight, the fate of Hanseong could be decided by him alone.

"Hrm."

An old man, frail yet with piercing eyes, his weathered but still-pulsing veins striking to behold—this was the Daewongun.

After keeping silence for a time with both eyes closed, he asked:

"And the Byeolpajin?"

The household of Unhyeongung who possessed some measure of insight marveled at the Daewongun's cautious question. Though the Byeolpajin was a unit in name only, its firepower markedly inferior to the Japanese-trained Byeolgigun, it was the sole artillery force among the remaining old military camps that the king could rapidly mobilize within the capital.

"Have no fear, Your Highness."

But a solution for this, too, was already in motion.

"Heungin-gun Yi Choe-eung urgently petitioned the court to have them suppress the revolt, but the shortage of firearms and the unrest among the soldiers only enraged them further."

"They understood the plight of the Muwiyeong soldiers and requested to join us as well."

The result was the present moment. Soldiers enraged by three consecutive days of the court's misrule had been joining this side in droves, and the king and the queen's kin had begun to find themselves thoroughly isolated.

"However..."

At this, a middle-aged man who had been watching from a corner cautiously raised his head. He was Jang Sun-gyu, one of the Cheonhajangan who had guarded Heungseon-gun since his days as a wastrel, and the only one among them who served the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Daewongun as a man of unusual gifts.

"The movements of the Chongyungcheong, which has yet to act, and the whereabouts of the Gyoryeonbyeongdae under the Tongni Gimmu Amun remain unclear."

The Gyoryeonbyeongdae. The armed force raised at the forefront by the queen's clan, who had begun thoroughly rotting this nation of Joseon as enlightenment proceeded alongside the opening of the country. Moreover, considering they were armed with modern weapons, enormous salaries, and the king's favor, they were likely to become the greatest obstacle to the Daewongun's uprising.

However—

"That matter is already settled."

"Your Highness?"

It was none other than the Daewongun himself who cut off his subordinate's concern. He waved a hand at Jang Sun-gyu, who quickly shut his mouth wondering if he had misspoken, signaling him not to worry, then opened his mouth.

"Heo Uk—the same Heo Uk who secured the Uigeumbu and the Podocheong and immediately struck the Gyeonggi Provincial Office—will have simultaneously cut communications between the capital and Bukhansanseong Fortress. That being so, how could His Majesty, trapped in Hanseong, exchange messages with them? Moreover, to expect the Chongyungcheong's forces, which at most number a mere few hundred, to serve as the enemy's backbone is an idle fear."

And the one who had placed a sword in that Heo Uk's hand and disguised him as an officer was none other than the master of the seat of honor.

"This humble one's thinking was shortsighted."

"The Gyoryeonbyeongdae is the same. Their core, and the officer who sounded us out for cooperation—you know him well yourself, do you not?"

"Ah, Your Highness! This humble one failed to recall. I am infinitely ashamed."

"Then that is enough."

When the Daewongun indicated with a glance the Muwiyeong officers and ringleaders of the mutiny gathered in one corner of the courtyard, the strategist promptly nodded and sealed his own lips. The joining of a former Major who had resigned of his own accord from the Byeolgigun before the mutiny broke out, and of officers within the Byeolgigun who harbored grievances against the court's treatment, was an extremely sensitive matter that had to be kept secret from those of the old military camps, who already held an unfavorable impression of them.

This was a subject to be dealt with only after the situation had settled and the Daewongun had fully seized the reins of government.

"Good."

As the strategist cleanly eliminated the matters he had feared and stepped back of his own accord, those present nodded as well. Already the Muwiyeong, the largest military body in the capital, had sworn loyalty to the Daewongun, and the security organs with the capacity to suppress them were collapsing in real time through behind-the-scenes agreements among the parties involved, with no noteworthy resistance.

The queen's relatives, who had led the way in devouring the nation, were milling about in confusion on the strength of their own incompetence, and the city's people, who suffered daily from soaring rice prices and foreign encroachment, fervently wished for the Daewongun's return.

The enemies were tearing themselves apart.

"...The time has come."

Yes. The king was now in a position of utter isolation, with no one to turn to.

"At last!"

Unable to hide a bitter smile at the father and son's reversed fortunes in a mere year, the Daewongun finally rose from his seat.

Yes. At last. How many of his loyal men had he lost to some wretched creature's denunciation? Now all that remained was to avenge the loyal subjects who had gone before, and to restore the royal house and this nation to their proper course.

"Men of honor!"

A ringing voice woke Hanseong, swallowed in darkness.

"An Pil-ju. Jang Sun-gyu. Shin Jae-hyo..."

The Daewongun called the names of those who believed in him and followed him, meeting each of their eyes as he parted his lips.

"What years we have spent together! How long have you endured such countless humiliations, following this inadequate and unworthy man!"

In the court that had erased him, as enlightenment began, the young king and the royal house had led state affairs in the wrong direction.

"We endured, and endured again! But all that returned was the rampage of the queen's kin and the revival of the sedo clans we had not fully washed away!"

The result was a nation fallen into misery, and a people who took their own lives in the tragedy of hardship.

"I wish, together with you, to save this nation that has fallen once more into misery. And so—would it be acceptable to fulfill once again the promise of decades past, the oath I swore with you?"

This was because the court and the king had lost the Way. Yes—there are self-evident values that humankind must never forget, even across thousands of years.

"Waaaaaah!!!"

Watching the soldiers roar, the old tiger, his resolve hardened, issued his final command to the subordinates arrayed behind him.

"Master An, you gather the soldiers scattered in disorder throughout the capital! Battalion Commander Cheon, assist Master An and strictly forbid the passage of unauthorized persons through the Four Great Gates. Master Jang, prepare with me to enter the palace!"

"Yes, Your Highness!"

"We receive your command!"

With that decision, loyal subjects of the most imposing bearing led the way at the head of the uprising, and it is said there was no one who could stop the old tiger.

Beyond the thrown-open gates, warriors worth a hundred men each and the valiant officers and soldiers of the Muwiyeong shouted:

It was the old tiger's magnificent return.

"And that is the last gasp."

A perfect scoff of laughter.

Having thoroughly mocked the Daewongun, who this day intended to drive the nails into the coffin lid of the Joseon royal house that had lasted five hundred years, I turned my head.

"A man's fate truly cannot be known, can it?"

In the darkness, having watched in silence the torchlit advance that lit Unhyeongung bright as day, I quietly conveyed this to Woo Beom-seon, whose eyes followed them. His focus was wavering.

"General."

If left alone, this man of great ambition and short thought might well go running straight into the Daewongun's embrace.

"With this, we can see that the greater game has more or less passed to the Daewongun."

"...Then is that not a grave matter? It means our chance to distinguish ourselves vanishes completely..."

"For whose sake, exactly?"

"What...?"

When I turned to him with a scoff, Woo Beom-seon shut his mouth in surprise.

"Why? Don't tell me the General has already chosen a side in his heart?"

"Th-that's not it."

"Or perhaps someone from the enlightenment faction has been courting the General."

"The place you visited the other day was the residence of His Excellency the Daesaseong, was it not?!"

Seeing him hastily wave his hands, trying to hide his fluster, it seemed that as expected, this fellow had already intended to decide which faction to throw in with in a contest whose outcome was already determined.

What an idiot.

Instead of disappointment, I resolved to give this fellow a little more warning and a stronger impression, and pressed him calmly.

"I sought that place because I needed something, not because I had planted an enemy there. For whose sake, I ask? The court? The Daewongun?"

"...What on earth are you talking about? Of course the Daewongun..."

To him, who was reading the room ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and inwardly revealing his true thoughts, I asked:

"Do you think the Daewongun will win?"

"Then are you saying he will lose? The Daewongun, who holds every armed force that exists in the capital?"

"What do you think?"

"No—has he not already seized the Four Great Gates as well!"

Instead of answering him at once as he asked back in surprise, I gestured for him to hurry and follow as I left the alley, taking the lead and beginning my explanation.

"By now, retainers of the Daewongun's faction will have arrived at the Incheon magistrate's office for negotiations, and the seizure of the Gyeonggi Provincial Office will have been successfully concluded. That being so, there will be no royalist army arriving at the capital within ten days."

"Then why on earth—?"

"Is there only the Joseon army?"

"Huh?"

When I asked, Woo Beom-seon looked at me with an expression that said he had no idea what I meant.

"Only the Joseon army? What of it?"

"The Qing."

"Th-the Qing? All of a sudden?!"

When the Qing appeared out of nowhere, a flustered Woo Beom-seon tugged lightly at my shoulder. He must have instinctively sensed that my words were no ordinary matter. He shouted:

"Why the Qing all of a sudden!"

"Ahem. Let go of that. Now then—are they not our suzerain?"

"S-suzerain..."

"Yes. Our suzerain."

Hearing my answer in that artless tone, Woo Beom-seon hesitated a moment, then clutched his forehead and staggered greatly.

"Suzerain!"

A glance showed he was even drooling. The shock must have been considerable.

"And so, General."

I finished in a firm voice toward such a man.

"They will intervene. Without a doubt."

"Good heavens!"

Yes. The suzerain. The horse-riding Chinks and the original Chinks lying belly-down beneath them—those were Joseon's suzerains at present. Distasteful as it was.

"That's impossible."

Still unable to accept my prophecy, rationally or emotionally, he asked back with a confused face.

"...They? For what possible reason would they—!"

"Why? If the internal affairs of one of the few remaining loyal tributaries of an empire declining by the day were greatly shaken, would they be pleased? Or..."

Pulling away from the staggering man and taking the lead once more, I added in a cutting tone.

"A man surrounded by traitors who covet his throne cannot make sound judgments if he is seized by terror. Yes—the possibility exists that he will play a blunder."

"...Surely not."

"Haha. Is it merely 'surely not'?"

"Ugh!"

To him, who opened his mouth with an expression of disbelief, I quietly pointed a finger at the sky, locked in darkness by moonlight weakened by thick clouds, and laughed my fill in silence.

Haha! A blunder! Yes, a blunder!

Suppressing the legitimate fury of one's own people with the guns and swords of foreign mercenaries. A harmony of astonishing political audacity and a conscience with no backbone whatsoever that even the most notorious sons of bitches throughout world history could not have imagined.

"It can't be, it can't be. Surely His Majesty wouldn't..."

I drove the wedge into him as he followed behind me, still denying reality as best he could, his steps disordered and labored.

"Tonight, everyone's hearts and efforts will be equally directed toward victory—but unfortunately, the victor of the greater game will not be a Korean."

"..."

Blessings upon the old tiger who let out his last roar before death. And a moment of silence for the blood that the hungry people and the soldiers who resisted discrimination will scatter.

Unfortunately, this is the truth.

Then a gunshot erupted in the direction of Gyeongbokgung Palace.

"At last!"

Enjoying the gunshots, explosions, and shouts that rang out in succession for several seconds, I threw both arms up in a cheer and opened my mouth.

"It has begun."

"What has?"

"Haha!"

And I showed an arrogant laugh to Woo Beom-seon, who followed along in confusion, dithering.

"What?"

At my words Woo Beom-seon shot back with an angry expression.

"If what you say is true, our country is firmly showing every sign of ruin—are you joking around?!"

I shook my head to the side.

"The founding of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a nation, that's right."

"..."

He looked at me with an expression of utter incredulity, but I hurried my busy legs with a face that said I didn't care.

The signal flare toward the fall of a five-hundred-year dynasty rang out vigorously to all the nations of the world.

And at the same time, a new era would come.

From this very body.