The Elimination Unit -1
What the hell is going on here?
I looked over their faces once more. Honestly, I was starting to wonder if any of this was even real. The future Prime Minister, a general, a blacksmith, a merchant, a spear instructor, a diplomat… The key figures who would lead the next generation of the Empire were all gathered in the unit I was supposed to train? Was that even possible?
"Jae Sang-hae, why did you apply to the Embroidered Uniform Guard?"
I fixed my gaze on Jae Sang-hae first. Every member of this unit could be called a great figure in his own right, but if I had to pick the biggest among them, it was hands down this man who would rise to the position of Prime Minister.
He was also the most out of place.
It was obvious just looking at him. The office of Prime Minister was the absolute pinnacle of the civil service — and yet the future Prime Minister had applied for the Embroidered Uniform Guard exam?
"I applied to the Embroidered Uniform Guard because I felt the treatment I received was unreasonable."
"I can't understand what you mean."
Jae Sang-hae's answer was absurd.
"My family, the Aksan Jae clan, has always been a prestigious house that produces scholars. Because of that, even though I've reached the First-rate realm in martial arts, everyone still treats me as a mere bookworm. Of course, I do possess the scholarly knowledge to deserve that label."
"What is this guy talking about?"
"I want my abilities to be evaluated fairly. The bureaucracy is rotten to the core! Custom, connections, seniority! They prioritize everything else over a person's actual ability, so rather than endure that kind of treatment, I'd rather throw myself into the military, where skill and merit actually matter."
Hmm.
Alright, I understood what he was trying to say. I really should have just not asked. What a horrifying way of thinking. Was this guy actually going to become Prime Minister? If I hadn't heard his family name, I would have happily convinced myself he was just some unfortunate namesake.
After hearing that mind-numbing answer, I completely lost the energy to question the others.
"Alright. I understand. It was good to meet you all."
"Sir!"
I returned Jo Ga-ju's salute and immediately went to find Song Chang-sik. Song Chang-sik glanced at me once, then turned his eyes back to the documents he was processing.
"What business do you have with me?"
"Forgive my presumption, but about the unit I've been assigned. Are they truly unfit for the Embroidered Uniform Guard?"
Song Chang-sik stopped his brush and looked at me. After studying me for a moment, he spoke in his usual tone.
"They have clear disqualifying reasons that prevent them from becoming Embroidered Uniform Guards. Of course, the Embroidered Uniform Guard selection exam must be completely fair. They will naturally fail during the first selection exam, which is conducted at the unit level."
"If I may ask — does what you just said mean you'll intervene naturally to eliminate them? Or that they're already as good as eliminated, so there's no need to intervene?"
Song Chang-sik laughed as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"Hahaha. What's gotten into you all of a sudden? You're the kind of man who should know how dangerous it is to make any improper intervention in an exam."
That was true. The exam itself had to be conducted with absolute transparency and fairness. Manipulating the entire exam just to weed out a few people was absurd.
The tail wagging the dog, as they say.
"…It's just that looking at the trainees, I felt a bit uneasy. Some of them have a sharp glint in their eyes, and I was worried they might actually pass."
Getting exactly the answer I'd expected from Song Chang-sik made me want to sigh.
"Goodness… I didn't want to have to tell you this, but… for a man to be this faint-hearted…"
Song Chang-sik beckoned me closer and lowered his voice.
"For instructors, having their trainees pass is an important factor. An instructor's leadership is also evaluated based on what kind of trainees they produce. The Eastern Depot's selection exam content is fundamentally secret, but those who've been instructors for many years inevitably pick up on the exam trends."
"On top of that, the first exam will be a unit-based team competition, and your unit will proceed one member short compared to the others. Not only is your unit's average capability inferior, but even your numbers are at a disadvantage — and you're a rookie instructor on top of that… Even if you and your unit unite as one and polish yourselves through rigorous training, it's questionable whether you'd even make it into the passing range."
"I see."
"Indeed. Do you feel a bit more at ease now?"
At ease, my ass.
Numbers? Average stats? Are you kidding me? This was a luxury roster that could slap the Avengers back and forth.
Look at Jo Ga-ju.
Yesterday, aside from Jo Ga-ju, not a single one of them had saluted me — they'd just stood there staring blankly. But when I went today, they all stood up and saluted me.
Clear evidence that Jo Ga-ju had drilled military discipline into them.
Nobody had designated him as their leader. How much authority could a self-proclaimed temporary captain even have?
And yet Jo Ga-ju had produced results in a single day.
That was the current state of my unit — swarming with talents like that. My unit would fail just because of the quality of instruction or being one person short? That was far too optimistic a prediction.
Just what the hell had happened in the Embroidered Uniform Guard during this period that the unit I had to train became the next-generation imperial dream team?
I desperately wanted to confront Song Chang-sik about it right then and there, but even if I did, I had nothing to say.
Was I supposed to tell the Admiral of the Embroidered Uniform Guard that these people were the pillars who would lead the future Empire, so putting them in something like the Embroidered Uniform Guard would ruin the country? Or ask him to deliberately fail them in the exam because they were future great figures that the current training unit structure couldn't hold back? Neither was an option.
They were people who would leave major marks on history, but right now they were just bright young men with a spark — so I had no material to persuade anyone with.
"…Understood. If I'm uneasy, I just need to work hard myself."
"Hahaha! That's right. I'll be counting on you, External Advisor."
"Yes. Sorry for the disturbance."
If this was my lot in life, so be it. Looks like I'd have to step up and resolve this one myself too.
"Hmm."
"Admiral, what did the External Advisor say?"
"I wonder what he knows to be acting like that…"
"Pardon?"
Song Chang-sik, Admiral of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, ignored the puzzled look from his son and sank into thought. Unaware of the series of events that had unfolded in the Imperial Palace, Song Chang-sik didn't fully understand the current situation revolving around Ho Cheon-an.
The only thing Song Chang-sik clearly knew about this whole affair was that His Majesty the Emperor had personally intervened for the sake of a single wandering warrior.
What kind of man is he? I know he achieved merit alongside Prefect Sama Yeom, but…
Since the Emperor was watching him, Song Chang-sik naturally assumed he wasn't an ordinary person, but…
The Embroidered Uniform Guard exam was one of the few opportunities for talented individuals from the provinces to advance to the central government. There were almost no other central government positions that held regular, public examinations like the Embroidered Uniform Guard.
There was a system in place for those who accumulated merit in the provinces to rise to the center, but in reality, it rarely happened.
Even in the provinces, they were still imperial forces in their own right, and unless someone had a particular desire to succeed in the capital, few would abandon the foundation they'd built in the provinces to come to the center.
For young talents whose positions weren't yet secure and who lacked connections, the Embroidered Uniform Guard was practically the only path to a key central post.
Even those who fail the Embroidered Uniform Guard exam are talents carefully selected from the provinces, so each of them has their own skills.
It had started with the Eastern Depot. While reviewing the Embroidered Uniform Guard applicants' information, they'd discovered talents suited for the Eastern Depot and absorbed some of the failures into their ranks.
Having tasted the value of talent, the Eastern Depot raised the question: Even if they're failures, they're carefully selected talents from the provinces — wouldn't it benefit the Empire to put their skills to good use? Yu Gyeong and Song Chang-sik agreed.
The proper solution to the Eastern Depot's proposal would have been to dramatically expand open recruitment exams for provincial talent, but with the ongoing war against the powerful ministers, that was impossible.
So as a stopgap measure, they began selecting useful people from among the Embroidered Uniform Guard applicants.
After more than ten years of this, the provinces realized that even failures with talent would be picked up by the central government. After all, people who failed the Embroidered Uniform Guard exam kept finding positions in the center one way or another, so no matter how tightly the Embroidered Uniform Guard and Eastern Depot kept their mouths shut, people were bound to catch on.
As a result, local officials simply wrote Embroidered Uniform Guard recommendation letters for anyone who seemed talented and sent them to the capital. If they took the exam and became Embroidered Uniform Guards, great; if not, plenty of them still managed to catch a chicken instead of a pheasant, so there was no reason to hesitate.
The number of Embroidered Uniform Guard applicants grew every year, and the average quality of applicants steadily rose.
Of course, it wasn't all good news. The downside of indiscriminately vacuuming up talent also emerged — people who by all rights should have gone into other fields started applying for and passing the exam.
Exceptional talents tended to produce results even in fields outside their specialty, after all.
The Elimination Unit was created precisely to filter out such people. Why would those who had distinguished themselves in other fields suddenly apply for the Embroidered Uniform Guard exam? Some may have made a firm decision, but most hadn't.
Those who truly had their hearts set on the Embroidered Uniform Guard could simply wait six months and retake the exam.
Normally, people become Embroidered Uniform Guards after three or four attempts. Failing once isn't a major blemish.
It was unfortunate for them, but it was also necessary for the Empire's development. It was a malpractice that would disappear once Yu Gyeong fully seized control of the Empire.
No matter how much Sama Gyeong-hwi and Yu Gyeong paid attention to Ho Cheon-an, the likelihood that they'd told him about this particular malpractice was low.
Then had Ho Cheon-an discovered the sense of dissonance in his unit on his own?
Song Chang-sik asked his son and adjutant, Song An-seong.
"Adjutant. Did the External Advisor spend much time with the trainees?"
"No, sir. He left right after work yesterday… and considering the time he came to see you today, he couldn't have spoken with the trainees for long."
And yet he'd seen through the fact that the trainees were talents.
"Is that so…"
Song Chang-sik recalled Ho Cheon-an's demeanor. He hadn't looked like a man who'd accepted the explanation and backed down, so he'd probably devise his own countermeasures to break through the current situation.
"Interesting. This should be quite entertaining to watch."
It seemed this Embroidered Uniform Guard selection would be worth watching.
Song Chang-sik thought so and smiled.
While Song Chang-sik was smiling and Ho Cheon-an was nursing a headache—
"Lady Heukmyo."
"Yes?"
"I… I think I've fallen for Master Ho, the wandering warrior."
Hyeok Gi-rin, who had been drinking tea at a teahouse, confessed her feelings to Heukmyo.