The Father of the Turtle Ship, Na Dae-yong
"My name is Na Dae-yong. I live in Naju. Take good care of me from now on, partner."
The moment those words fell, a thrilling shiver raced up my spine.
Na Dae-yong. The hidden hero of the Imjin War. If Admiral Yi Sun-sin was the god of the sea, this man was the blacksmith who placed lightning in that god's hands. Tucked away in the corner of history textbooks, but a legend among military enthusiasts—he was gripping my hand.
His hand was rough. Calluses thick as medals from handling iron, carving wood, kneading gunpowder.
"Pleased to meet you. I'm Kim Deok-ryeong."
I bowed my head with genuine respect, the kind I hadn't shown even to my brother Kim Deok-hong or the Damyang magistrate.
"Hah, I've heard all about you. Skip the formalities. Let's get back to cleaning up before those precious materials turn to shit."
Na Dae-yong released my hand and headed to the cauldron without a moment for sentiment.
"Turn down the fire in the hearth first! Simmer it gently—strong flames like that will burn it all!"
He rolled up his sleeves and took command. The chaotic site snapped into order in an instant.
Seo Baek-seol poked my side.
"That guy's really a technician? Looks like a total bookworm."
"Bookworm, my ass. He's Joseon's top engineer... no, artisan. Treat him right. He's our meal ticket."
"Meal ticket? Looks like he'll just eat us out of house and home."
Seo Baek-seol kept her skeptical glare, but as she watched Na Dae-yong direct the Yiho Army thugs to filter the mud with expert precision, she fell silent. Every motion was efficient, no wasted effort. The real deal.
A while later, once the work was sorted, we moved to the inn's inner quarters.
The drinking table was set. Na Dae-yong downed a bowl of takju that Seo Baek-seol poured in one gulp.
"Kya! Now I feel alive."
He wiped the liquor from his mouth with his sleeve and eyed me.
"So, Kim Deok-ryeong, was it? You said you'd help me launch my ship?"
"That's right."
"Do you even know what kind of ship I'm trying to build?"
Na Dae-yong's eyes sharpened. He pulled a crumpled wad of paper from his bosom. Grease-stained and shiny from handling.
He spread it on the table.
"......!"
An exclamation escaped me unbidden. Seo Baek-seol's eyes went wide.
It was a drawing. Nothing like a standard ship. A bizarre shape with a rounded lid over a panokseon hull. Dragon head at the prow, cannon ports punched along the sides.
Gwiseon. The turtle ship.
Not fully realized yet. More like an early sketch. But every stroke brimmed with the designer's anguish and ambition.
"That's... a ship? Looks like a damn tomb."
Seo Baek-seol voiced her honest impression.
"Heh, a tomb? Not wrong. It'll be a tomb for those pirate bastards."
Na Dae-yong gave a wry smile, tapping the blueprint with a finger.
"The panokseon is a fine vessel. But the pirates' specialty is swarming aboard for close-quarters melee. No matter how well our navy fires, if they climb up swords in teeth, we're done for."
His explanation was spot-on. One reason Joseon's navy struggled early in the Imjin War was the Japanese troops' boarding tactics.
"So I thought, cover it with a lid entirely. No place for them to get a foothold."
"The lid... clever, but where do our soldiers fight from? It'll block the view too."
Na Dae-yong nodded at Seo Baek-seol's point.
"Exactly the problem. Cannons need line of sight, but the lid blocks it... I've been stuck."
Na Dae-yong sighed.
A genius's torment. No wonder he was holed up in Naju, venting his frustration. Petitions to the court dismissed as madness, and self-funding hitting walls of money and tech.
Now was the time. My turn to step in. Feed him future knowledge—or rather, historical fact—as 'ideas.'
"Hyungnim."
I poured him a bowl of takju and spoke.
"The ship I saw in my dream looked a bit different."
"Dream?"
"Yeah. A dragon swimming the sea, spines jutting from its back, spewing smoke from its mouth."
"Spines... smoke...?"
Na Dae-yong's eyes flashed.
I picked up a dried anchovy from the side dish with chopsticks and placed it on the blueprint.
"Covering the lid is good. But what if they climb on top? A few sword swings from above, and we're in trouble."
"Right! That's my biggest worry."
"Make it impossible to stand on. Nail it with iron spikes. Thick and dense."
"Iron spikes!"
Na Dae-yong slapped his knee.
"Yes! Spike swords hammered in—they couldn't set foot! Why didn't I think of that!"
"And the visibility issue."
I placed the anchovy head at the ship's prow.
"Dragon head. Just for show?"
"To intimidate the enemy."
"Don't just pose—make it practical. Bore cannon ports in that maw. Burn sulfur and saltpeter to spew smoke. How's that?"
"A smoke screen?"
"Exactly. Blind and confuse the enemy. We see out from inside, but they're flailing in the fog—then blast from the sides."
Na Dae-yong's jaw dropped. He alternated glances between the blueprint and my face, expression like he'd spotted an alien.
"You... really the village idiot Kim Deok-ryeong? Some war strategist? I saw you messing around like a fool earlier."
"......." This guy, straight to my face?
"Just daydreaming over meals with nothing better to do."
I shrugged.
Na Dae-yong couldn't contain his excitement, sketching on the blueprint with his finger.
"Iron spines... yes, carve cross paths on the lid for our men, spikes everywhere else. Cannon from the dragon head secures forward sight... damn, this is it! Exactly what I needed!"
He beamed like a kid. The thrill of a breakthrough for a blocked artisan.
"But hyungnim."
I doused him like cold water.
"Building that will guzzle money and iron. Where's the timber?"
Na Dae-yong's face darkened again. Reality's wall.
"True. I'd empty my fortune and barely get half a panokseon. Begged the magistrate for aid—he wouldn't even fart."
"No surprise. That guy's only fattening his own gut."
I glanced at Seo Baek-seol. She was already clicking her abacus.
"Seo manager. Got a quote?"
"No way. With our cash, forget a ship—even a ferry's a stretch. But..."
Her eyes sparkled.
"Sell gunpowder, and it changes."
"Gunpowder?"
"Yes. If Na-nim makes it for us, we sell. To hunters, or supply the magistrate. Got that permit under wild boar hunts."
As expected. She sniffed money like a ghost.
"Good. Plan revised."
I rapped the table to focus them.
"We're now 'Yiho Corporation.' Goal: war prep."
I pointed at Seo Baek-seol.
"Seo handles funds. Sell powder, hunt tigers, whatever—grow the money. For ship materials and feeding our crew."
"Got it. But divvy profits fair."
"Na Dae-yong hyungnim."
"Speak, boss."
The title shifted. He'd acknowledged me as leader.
"You're tech lead. Gunpowder production, turtle ship design. Name your needs—I'll get 'em. Want iron? I'll rip doors off houses."
"Heh, reassuring. I'll work these fingers raw."
"And me."
I thumped my chest.
"I'm muscle. Sourcing materials, training thugs, clearing business obstacles."
Roles assigned. Money, tech, muscle. The triad to navigate chaos.
"Alright, toast time."
I raised my bowl; they followed.
"To Joseon's seas and lands."
"To that!"
The bowls clinked brightly.
The party broke as night deepened. Na Dae-yong refused to go home. Said he'd tweak designs all night, hooked. We gave him a wing of the inn. He lit a candle and grabbed a brush the second he entered. Madman.
I stepped into the yard.
Yiho Army thugs stood watch. Choi Ga dozed, jolted upright at my sight, snapping to attention.
"Sir! All clear on duty!"
"At ease. Bed down. Big day tomorrow."
"No sir! While you're up, how could..."
"Dig ditches tomorrow if you don't."
"Yes sir! Good night!"
Choi Ga bolted like a bullet.
I stood alone in the empty yard. Moonlight bathed the cauldron.
Tomorrow, war began. Not swords and guns, but a race against time.
Mass gunpowder needed a factory. Raze the inn's back yard for a workshop. More laborers to haul earth, kilns for charcoal.
Mountains of work. But no fear. My chest swelled instead.
Past life, I was a cog that burned out on orders. Now? I set the board, gathered pieces, shaped history.
Worth a shot.
I clenched and released my fist. Felt the calluses.
One year. Long if long, short if short.
While Toyotomi Hideyoshi sharpened blades, I'd bake powder and build ships.
The moment those bastards touched Busanpo, they'd taste hell.
I grinned at the night sky.
"Come at me, you pirate scum. Joseon's got its Xiang Yu."
Cooling sweat in the chill breeze, I welcomed the hottest night of my second life.