The Industrial Complex and the Firepower Military Academy (11)
A large crowd loitered at the entrance to the training grounds.
They were waiting for the results of the Hwaryeok Military Academy entrance examination.
Yi Sun-sin was one of them.
He stood in silence, mouth pressed into a firm line.
Unlike him, someone else was grumbling loudly.
“Damn it! Why the hell is this test so hard?”
“Tell me about it. They said it would only cover the basics from Hangeul First Steps and Mathematics First Steps, but this is ridiculous!”
A man who looked like a good-for-nothing spat on the ground and vented his frustration.
A sturdy young man with bright, intelligent eyes standing nearby frowned at the sight.
“Isn’t that exactly right?”
“What did you say?”
“If you know Hangeul, you can write the answers. If you know math, you can solve the problems. Isn’t that obvious?”
“How dare you—!”
The loafer raised his hand but couldn’t bring himself to swing. Though the youth looked young, his build was formidable. In a society where status mattered, picking a fight could end badly.
“Who do you think you are, speaking so rudely?”
“Why should I tell you?”
“Such insolence!”
“Such a pathetic fool!”
“What?!”
As the two continued bickering, officials emerged carrying large rolled-up posters.
They pushed through the murmuring crowd and stopped in front of the announcement board.
The moment the oversized notices were pasted up, a wave of sighs and cheers erupted.
“Wow! I passed!”
The bright-eyed young man thrust both arms into the air and jumped for joy.
The loafer scowled, spat once more, and stormed off.
No matter how many times he rubbed his eyes and scanned the list of successful candidates, his name was nowhere to be found.
Yi Sun-sin’s situation was the same.
He let out a long sigh and looked up at the sky.
The clear, cloudless autumn sky stretched endlessly wide and high.
Yet it felt as though there was no place in the world that would accept the ambitions he carried in his chest.
I thought I answered everything well…
There had been one particularly tricky question.
“If your allies are trapped inside a fortress and surrounded by the enemy, and your superior officer declares the situation hopeless and orders a retreat instead of sending reinforcements, what should you do?”
He had written: “Disregard the order, take command in his place, launch a surprise attack to disrupt the enemy, and secure a retreat route for our forces.”
That answer had apparently decided his fate.
After all, it went against military regulations.
Yi Sun-sin offered a lonely smile and turned to leave.
Just then, he heard people discussing his name.
“Jeong Yeo-lip makes sense—he’s a disciple of Director Sukheon. But who the hell is this Yi Sun-sin?”
“Hey! Watch your tongue!”
“What? Did I say something wrong?”
“Aren’t these the men who will become generals of the Hwaryeok Army in the future?”
“Exactly! Watch that mouth of yours. You nearly earned yourself a beating.”
Yi Sun-sin stopped in his tracks and turned back toward the announcement board.
On a separate large notice, two names stood out clearly.
Top Scorer (Chief): Jeong Yeo-lipSecond Scorer: Yi Sun-sin
Yi Yeon had decided that the term “Jangwon” should only be used for those who passed the civil service exam, while military passers would be called “Mugoe.” He had ordered the results posted using “Top Scorer” and “Second Scorer” instead.
The word “Mugoe” itself sounded ridiculous, but he intended to use the Hwaryeok Army as a tool to gradually dismantle such outdated customs.
Yi Sun-sin drew in a deep, shuddering breath, overwhelmed with emotion.
He clenched his large fists tightly.
“I did it!”
The realization that the path to becoming the general he had dreamed of was now open caused tears to well up in his eyes unbidden.
Then a loud voice rang out.
“Ahem! Attention!”
An official raised a large megaphone made of kraft paper to his mouth, shouted a few times to test it, then bellowed.
“All those who have passed! Five days from now, at seven o’clock in the morning—two days after Chuseok—present yourselves neatly dressed between the Myo and Jin hours in front of Gwanghwamun. His Majesty has personally declared that he will bestow rewards upon you!”
The official turned to leave, then paused and raised the megaphone again.
“Oh, and before that! Come here first and sign your names. That way we’ll know who has confirmed the results!”
Yi Sun-sin wiped the moisture from his eyes, squared his shoulders, and strode confidently through the crowd.
He ignored the envious, stinging gazes that followed him.
* * *
“Gasp!”
Yi Yeon bolted upright in bed, as if waking from a nightmare.
“Your Majesty, are you all right?”
Kim Yang-bo stared at him with a startled expression.
“I’m fine. Bring me some water.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Yi Yeon gulped down the water boiled with ginseng, wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and asked.
“How long was I asleep?”
“You retired at four in the afternoon yesterday, so you have slept roughly twelve hours.”
“I slept quite a lot.”
Yet the fatigue refused to leave him.
Even in a young body, pushing yourself too hard has consequences, it seems.
Recruiting a thousand new officials and then handling all the follow-up measures had kept him awake through many nights. The accumulated exhaustion, combined with a cold, had finally taken its toll.
Kim Yang-bo suddenly dropped his head, then jerked it back up in alarm.
“Were you here all night?”
“No, Your Majesty. The royal physician said it appeared to be from overwork and that rest would suffice. He left after that, and I have remained since.”
Damn. So he really did stay up all night.
“You’ve worked hard. Go and rest now.”
“I am fine, Your Majesty.”
“I have things to think about. Leave me.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
After Kim Yang-bo withdrew, Yi Yeon opened a drawer and took out the Soul Transfer device he had hidden there.
Hmm…
It looked remarkably similar to the feather of the three-legged bird he had seen in his dream.
Was it a prophetic dream?
Since the steam engine would soon be completed, he had been planning to produce matches instead of oil lighters.
He had heard that fires frequently broke out while moving embers around, and matches would make it much easier to light the fuses of hand grenades.
They’re easy to manufacture and can be sold cheaply.
The main ingredient for safety matches—calcium phosphate produced by burning chicken bones—could be heated to a high temperature with graphite powder to produce white phosphorus (P₄).
One had to be extremely careful.
Inhaling the white phosphorus vapor produced during the drying process could cause the jawbone to rot.
Mr. Kim said that the Match Girl was a satire of that very thing.
Reheating white phosphorus turned it into red phosphorus (P₄).
At that point, the bonding structure of the four phosphorus atoms changed completely, resulting in entirely different properties.
Making red phosphorus seemed deceptively simple.
But there was a problem.
White phosphorus ignited at the slightest provocation, so it had to be heated in an oxygen-free environment.
That was why he had not yet been able to produce matches.
Once the steam engine is finished, that problem can be solved.
He couldn’t create a perfect vacuum, but he could get close enough.
However, red phosphorus did not ignite easily on its own.
That was why sulfur and glass powder had to be mixed in.
Then it would catch fire with a simple strike anywhere.
That’s the strike-anywhere match.
These easy-to-make strike-anywhere matches could also be used as percussion caps, a type of primer.
So that’s why I had that dream.
In the dream, he had mass-produced and distributed the matches, only to suffer a catastrophic failure.
Enemy soldiers armed with guns using percussion caps had swarmed in, and the outnumbered Hwaryeok Army suffered heavy losses and was forced to retreat.
In the midst of it, he had seen an enemy bullet flying straight at him.
A three-legged bird had blocked it.
Yi Yeon shook his head.
I suppose I’ll have to give up on matches after all.
Reluctantly, he considered making safety matches instead.
That would be even more dangerous.
The main component of safety matches was potassium chlorate.
It could be used not only as a primer but also as an explosive, so it had to be avoided.
Therefore, he decided to proceed with the original plan of producing and distributing oil lighters.
They won’t be cheap, but they’ll be safe.
That didn’t mean he was abandoning matches entirely.
There was no cheaper ignition material.
Because of fertilizer production, he had no choice but to manufacture chemical substances that could be used as primers and explosives.
Eventually, materials suitable for primers will inevitably leak out.
So he decided to postpone the project until he could develop a machine gun capable of delivering overwhelming firepower to the enemy.
Having finished his thoughts, Yi Yeon tucked the Soul Transfer device against his chest and fell back asleep.
* * *
Minister of War Jeong Dae-nyeon, who had risen at dawn, flipped through a book and muttered to himself.
“Arrest them all and send them to the coal mines…”
Those had been the King’s words on the way back from Ganghwado.
They carried a firm determination not to tolerate corruption.
A month earlier, a thousand new officials had been recruited.
Because anyone who had passed the preliminary civil service exam could apply, an enormous number of people had shown up.
The salary had doubled, and even a ninth-rank clerk could now make a living, so the number of applicants had been overwhelming.
There had been no choice but to hold the exam at the newly prepared Knowledge Plaza.
However, those aiming for the highest civil service degree had not applied.
Rumors had spread that even if they passed, they could not become senior officials (rank 3 or above).
“Who the hell is spreading such rumors?”
He couldn’t figure it out.
After that, not only the Six Ministries but other government offices as well began operating much more efficiently.
Although the new officials were still inexperienced, most tasks simply required filling out forms created with the mimeograph machine, so the backlog of work was rapidly disappearing.
Then the King had issued another decree.
Local clerks who handled practical affairs in provincial offices were also to be newly recruited, and they were to be paid salaries equivalent to ninth-rank officials.
The ministers had opposed it.
But the King had silenced them by stating that the corruption of these clerks was the root of the people’s resentment, and that this year’s tax revenue would more than double.
Jeong Dae-nyeon turned the pages of the list the King had given him, checking each name and crime one by one.
“They investigated this thoroughly…!”
He didn’t know who had compiled it, but every act of corruption committed by officials and clerks was recorded clearly and concisely, following the Six Ws principle from Hangeul First Steps.
“Hmm…”
Jeong Dae-nyeon recalled what had happened aboard the warship.
Your Majesty has commanded that all corrupt officials and local clerks identified in the attached list be arrested immediately and sent to the coal mines. The Ministry of Justice shall later determine the severity of their crimes at the mines.
Let none escape. Let none be pardoned.
“Truly a remarkable man…”
Jeong Dae-nyeon unfolded the secret letter from the King that had been tucked inside the list.
“Prepare a plan to completely reform the military service system.”
The King wished to abolish the deeply flawed military service system and replace it with a new one.
He had said that gathering a ragtag bunch of people was useless.
“Recruit all youths between the ages of sixteen and eighteen regardless of status and have them serve eighteen months in regional defense forces. At the same time, establish a plan to select outstanding individuals and send them to the Hwaryeok Army and the security forces.”
The King had declared that with the increase in national revenue, he would train a much larger standing army.
He believed that once Japan was unified, it would undoubtedly set its sights on Joseon.
“We must strike first,” the King had said.
Jeong Dae-nyeon thought it made sense.
If such power were left unused, it would eventually explode from within.
Diverting that power outward was not a matter of choice but of necessity.
“Why didn’t we think of this before?”
Jeong Dae-nyeon let out a long sigh.
According to what the King had told him, the world was unimaginably vast.
Yet they had wasted their energy on internal power struggles and eliminating political rivals.
They had been forced to watch the great Ming Empire, but as the King said, they should have crossed the sea, conquered Japan, and taken it for themselves.
“It is said to be twice as large as Joseon. If necessary, we could settle there…”
Unlike the other ministers, the King did not trust Ming.
“We must also prepare for a Ming invasion.”
“What? What do you mean, Your Majesty?”
“There are rumors that Beijing is in an uproar because of our celadon and glass mirrors.”
“I have heard them as well. However, I do not believe they will invade us.”
The Ming Emperor had tried to restore order to the country ruined by his predecessor, but finding it too difficult, he had given up.
As a result, internal chaos had grown extreme.
That was why Jeong Dae-nyeon had said what he did.
“If I were them, I would invade without hesitation. Success would increase the imperial treasury, and even failure could be used to resolve internal problems.”
“That may be true, but what about the Mongols?”
“We can form an alliance with them.”
“Ah…!”
It was an answer he had never even considered.
Ming forming an alliance with the Mongols.
“It is certainly possible…”
Although they were currently in a standoff, if it benefited both sides, there was no reason to refuse.
“We are surrounded on all sides…”
Now he understood.
Why the King was in such a hurry to build a regular army.
Whenever the King had occasionally spoken of territorial expansion, Jeong Dae-nyeon had thought it was simply the words of a young ruler.
But he had been wrong.
“If we do not strike first, we will be the ones who suffer.”
“You mean to attack Ming as well?”
“…”
The King had not answered.
He had simply stared at the flowing river.
The shipyard being built next to the Second Steel Mill was enormous.
When he had asked about it, the King’s reply had still left him stunned.
“We are building large warships as a precaution. If necessary, we can cross to Japan. We could also release Japanese pirates along the Ming coast, could we not?”
“Pardon?!”
“No one knows when or what might happen. That is why we must prepare.”
“Ah, yes.”
He had thought the King was speaking that way because the international situation was rapidly changing.
“Now that I think about it, that was exactly what he meant.”
Having organized his thoughts, Jeong Dae-nyeon reviewed the King’s instructions once more.
* * *