Gunpowder, The First Explosion
Acrid smoke scattered on the mountain breeze.
The stinging smell of sulfur and burning charcoal. Beyond it, the scene revealed was horrific. No—beautiful.
The solid granite boulder, which had reached an adult's waist, had vanished without a trace. In its place gaped a scorched black earth pit like a festering scar. The surrounding trees looked as if they'd been struck by a storm, their bark peeled away and branches snapped off.
"Hah..."
Na Dae-yong collapsed to the ground with a thud. His face was smeared with soot, but his eyes sparkled like stars in the night sky.
"Did you see that? Did you see that?"
He pointed at the crater with a trembling hand.
"This... this is the gunpowder I made? Louder than thunder, fiercer than lightning?"
"That's right. You made it, brother."
I swallowed hard too.
The power was far beyond expectations. This wasn't a firecracker. It was a weapon of slaughter.
"With this, we could punch right through a Japanese ship in one shot! Hell, we could crumble castle walls!"
Na Dae-yong bounced around like a kid. How could he not, after seeing the fruit of a lifetime's research explode before his eyes?
Seo Baek-seol picked up a shattered stone fragment with a dazed expression.
"This... was made from dirt and charcoal?"
"That's what I've been telling you."
"You're insane. Truly insane."
She muttered.
"If we sold this, we'd make a fortune. Hunters would go nuts for it. Or supply it to the magistrates..."
There she was, already crunching numbers amid the shock. That pro spirit was almost admirable.
"Sell? We've barely got enough for ourselves."
I walked toward the crater. Heat still rose from the ground.
"This is just the beginning. Now we mass-produce and stockpile. When war breaks out, this'll be worth more than rice."
"Got it. I'll make those privy cleaners work twice as hard."
Seo Baek-seol nodded solemnly. To her, the gunpowder dust must have looked like gold flakes.
Then, murmurs rose from the village below the mountain.
"What was that noise just now?" "Thunder? A bolt from a clear sky!"
The massive boom had sent villagers rushing out in alarm.
I grinned.
"Let's head down. Time to set the mood."
The village was in an uproar.
Startled by the sudden roar and its echo off the mountains, people gathered in groups, staring at the sky. Not a cloud in sight.
As we descended, all eyes turned to us. Faces caked in soot, clothes torn. We looked plenty suspicious.
"Deok-ryeong! What was that sound from the mountain? Did you see anything?"
The village headman asked urgently.
I cleared my throat with feigned solemnity.
"Oh, that?"
I gazed at a distant peak, lowering my voice dramatically.
"I was training up there, and I guess I put too much ki into it. Cracked a rock."
"......What?"
The headman's jaw dropped.
"You made thunder with a kiai? And shattered a rock?"
"Yeah. My strength's been getting out of hand lately. Sorry. Must've scared you."
Blatant lie. But people were more inclined to believe than doubt. After all, I had a track record: bare-handed tiger slaying, single-handedly lifting a magistrate's stone lantern. If anyone's capable of that, it's this monster, they'd think.
"Good lord... The mountain spirit really possessed him." "He's general material, pure general." "Look at the size of that thing. A real killer weapon. Killer."
Awe filled their eyes. Mixed with some odd reverence, sure. But in that instant, I ascended from strong young buck to heaven-sent hero.
This was popular sentiment. In these uneasy times, people craved superhuman might to cling to. I'd become their idol, plain and simple.
Back at the inn, the Yiho Army poured out to greet us.
"Boss! What was that boom? You fart or something?"
Choi Ga made a fuss.
"Fart, my ass. Gunpowder test."
"Gunpowder? That shit-juice we boiled? That blows up like this?"
Their eyes bulged. The same guys who'd grumbled about hauling shit were transformed once they saw the results. Pride swelled: Our shit shook heaven and earth.
"Yep. Your hauled shit turned to lightning. Keep scooping harder from now on."
"Yes, sir! We'll wear out the shit buckets!"
Military crispness in their reply. Nothing beats a demo for education.
I headed to the inner quarters with Na Dae-yong. Time for the next phase.
Drinks were brought in, and he downed a bowl of rough liquor.
"Gunpowder's done. Now the issue's the 'container.'"
He turned serious.
"No matter how strong, without a weapon to fire it, it's useless. Cannons, fire lances, matchlocks—something."
"Right. And we need that turtle ship you keep singing about."
"Exactly! The turtle ship! That's priority one."
Na Dae-yong's eyes lit up.
"Blueprints are nearly done. Iron spikes on the lid, cannons on the dragon head—like you said, invincible. But..."
His face darkened abruptly.
"No materials."
"Materials?"
"Iron. Cast iron."
He tapped the table.
"Thousands of iron plates for the turtle ship lid alone. Nails? Piles more. And top-grade cast iron, mountains of it, for cannon casting."
"Buy it at the market. Seo the manager's loaded."
Seo Baek-seol bristled beside me.
"It's not the money. There's none to buy."
She flipped open her ledger.
"Checked every smithy in Damyang, Suncheon, Jangseong. Just scrap for hoes and sickles. Weapon-grade steel's government-controlled or dried up."
Iron shortage. An unexpected snag. Gunpowder from shit? Fine. But iron needs mining or smelting.
"Melt down farm tools...?"
I muttered; Na Dae-yong shook his head.
"Take forever. And tool iron's too weak—cracks or explodes in cannons. Need high-grade wrought iron."
Things were tangled. Bullets ready, no gun.
I crossed my arms, deep in thought. 1591 Joseon. Government monopolized most iron production. Private mines existed, but small-scale.
Where to source bulk iron?
Then, a memory flashed: Annals of the Joseon Dynasty, or some wild history tale.
Right before the Imjin War, bandits ravaged the mountains on the Honam-Yeongnam border. They stole official supplies, even smuggled iron and powder to Japanese traders at the trading post...
Smuggling.
Japanese coveted Joseon iron, bought it on the sly. So those bandits' warehouses overflowed with iron awaiting export.
"Seo the manager."
I called.
"Yes?"
"Any bandit gangs nearby? Big ones, real scum."
"Bandits? Why the sudden—?"
"Are there or not?"
She thought, then clapped her knee.
"Oh, yeah! 'Black Mountain Stronghold.'"
"Black Mountain Stronghold?"
"Yep. Straddles Damyang-Suncheon border. Total scum. Even merchants avoid that pass. Rumors say they collude with officials for smuggling."
Bingo. Found my iron mine. Time to pet their warehouse guards with my pot-lid hands and say thanks for the hard work.
Colluding with officials? Their haul was stolen goods. Plunder away, no backlash. Bonus: bandit suppression pretext.
A feral smile crept across my lips.
"Na Dae-yong brother."
"Speak."
"I'll get you iron. Tons of it."
"From where? Raiding the magistrate's stores?"
"Nah. Worse guys' stash."
I stood. My body itched. Days of digging dirt and stoking fires had stiffened me. Time to loosen up.
"Seo the manager, assemble the men. No dinner party tonight."
"What? Training?"
"Nope."
I grabbed the new six-tailed flail from the wall... not an iron rake, this one I'd carved myself.
"Grocery shopping. At the 100% discount store."
-
Fifty Yiho Army men lined up in the inn courtyard. With fresh recruits from the rumors, we were filling out nicely.
Outfits varied wildly, but their eyes burned fierce. They gripped clubs, iron rakes, axes—farm tools till proper arms arrived. But their spirit outmatched any government troops.
"Attention!"
My voice boomed across the yard.
"Not shit-hauling today."
"Woooah!"
Cheers erupted. Freedom from dung duty alone skyrocketed morale.
"Today, real soldier play."
"Soldier play? War?"
Choi Ga's eyes sparkled.
"Close. We're hunting thieves who stole our stuff."
"Thieves? Who'd dare touch your stuff, boss?"
"Black Mountain Stronghold."
Murmurs rippled.
"B-Black Mountain? Those mountain scum?" "They use real blades..."
Tension etched their faces. Street brawls and bandit hunts were worlds apart. These were killers who murdered for breakfast.
I sensed their faltering and smirked.
"Scared?"
"......"
"Scared? Bail. Go suck mom's tit some more."
No one budged. Pride, sure—but fear of losing their meal ticket under my gaze loomed larger.
"Good. No dropouts."
I slung my flail over my shoulder.
"They got swords? We're tiger-slaying Yiho Army. Don't pussy out over mangy dogs."
I eyed Choi Ga.
"Know what's in their warehouse?"
"What?"
"Money. Booze. Meat."
"......!!"
Eyes ignited. Desire crushed fear.
"We take it all. They're scum, so it's 'spoils of war.' Got it?!"
"Yes, sir! Loyalty!"
The roar shook Damyang.
"Move out. Motto: 'Plunder'... nah, 'Justice served.'"
We marched for the mountains.
Up front, the 2-meter titan Xiang Yu with his flail; behind, fifty muscled men with farm tools. A bizarre procession.
Villagers waved, thinking we were off shit-hauling again. We waved back gravely.
Wait up, Black Mountain. So that's where my ironclad ship parts were hiding.
Night air chilled, but my blood boiled. Gunpowder done; next, iron. Puzzle pieces falling into place.
Tonight, those bandits would see hell. Hell delivered by Joseon's Xiang Yu.