Samcheok's Reckoning
The unease at Samcheok Cheoljang had been deliberate after all. But it wasn't in Beijing—it was Samcheok. The Gatong message had arrived at lunchtime. Samcheok meant trouble at the ironworks. What happened? There had been an incident in Samcheok. Hong Yun-seong was dead.
Munjong explained it this way: At the Samcheok Ironworks, Hong Yun-seong got drunk, insisted on pulling the iron himself, blocked the outlet in front of the furnace, and caused a scene. Molten iron poured out. Hong Yun-seong, one official, and two artisans died on the spot. Another official and three artisans suffered severe burns.
Hong Yun-seong. In the original history, the man who became Sejo's right-hand man and rose to Chief State Councillor. Infamous for his brutality. In Munjong's Joseon, he'd been laboring away in Samcheok, but it ended like this.
The horrific scene was all too easy to imagine. Even accounting for the Joseon era, temperatures of fifteen hundred degrees Celsius. People usually said "reduced to a handful of ash," but in this case, there probably wasn't even ash left—just vaporized on the spot. The quickest death, without time to feel pain. Far too merciful for Hong Yun-seong, who had taken three other lives with him.
Your Highness, we must prioritize the injured first.
The physicians are attending to them.
That won't be proper treatment. Most burn victims die from secondary infections like sepsis.
Your Highness, wounds from molten metal are even more dangerous days later. The wounds fester, fever sets in, and poison spreads through the body, leading to death.
First, wash the wounds twice a day with clean, cool water. Clean around the wounds with spirit solution.
Do-yun, hold on a moment. I'll prepare ink and brush.
He resumed after a pause.
Second, do not pop blisters, and if they burst, do not peel off the skin.
Third, wrap the wounds with boiled and dried cotton cloth, changing it daily for fresh wraps.
Fourth, if honey is available, apply a thin layer to the wound before wrapping. Honey can delay festering.
Fifth, make them drink plenty of water. Burn victims lose bodily fluids rapidly and weaken easily.
Sixth, if fever worsens, the area around the wound reddens, or a foul odor emerges from the body, it's extremely dangerous. Inform the physicians immediately.
Seventh, physicians and tools approaching patients like in Taesan-dang must all be disinfected with spirit solution.
Understood. Taesan-dang in Gangneung will have spirit solution. I'll send it with Gangneung's physicians.
A silence fell.
Though Hong Yun-seong died in an accident, he perished in service to the state, so I intend to grant him a state funeral.
It was an acknowledgment of the chief culprit as a meritorious subject. Something welled up inside me.
I had never opposed Munjong once. As a doctor, I'd insisted on certain measures, but I'd never directly contradicted the king's decisions while advising on Joseon matters or sharing modern knowledge. I was merely a voice from a distant future, speaking through Gatong.
But not this time. I steadied my breath for a long while, then sent the message.
Your Highness, that is a mistaken decision.
Munjong replied after a long silence.
What did you say?
Your Highness, the Samcheok incident was no accident. It was manslaughter by Hong Yun-seong. A drunkard wielding a knife and stabbing someone is murder. The Samcheok incident is no different. A drunkard killed three people and maimed four for life.
Do-yun...
I ignored Munjong's message and continued.
Granting such a man a state funeral will lead to repeats across Joseon. They'll learn that dying in state service—even causing deaths—earns honors and a funeral. It's tantamount to broadcasting that more deaths are acceptable.
It felt like two hours had passed, but only minutes had. Munjong said nothing.
One who takes lives must pay even in death. That is the only solace for the dead, the injured, and their families.
I have been insolent, but I had to speak.
I closed Gatong. Then I powered off my phone. My hands were shaking. I realized too late what I'd done. I'd scolded the king of Joseon. If I lived there, decapitation would be no less than I deserved. The trust built through Gatong could crumble in one conversation.
Defying the king is this terrifying...
I turned the phone back on. Munjong no longer used Gatong at night anyway. Come to think of it, this was a hospital. Lunch break was ending. I checked Gatong again late in the afternoon.
Two unread lines remained.
Yu Eung-bu. The only military man among the Six Martyrs. Renowned for integrity, a filial son who devotedly served his impoverished mother. In original history, tortured to death in 1456 for joining Prince Danjong's restoration. Now, with no Gyeyu Coup, he'd spend his days at Samcheok Ironworks.
I closed the annals and gazed out the window. After work, late at night, I opened Gatong. Munjong was busy every night lately, so no reply expected. But I was busy days, unavoidable.
Your Highness, I deeply apologize for my insolence yesterday. As we pursue investigation of things, such incidents will multiply. In my world, laws prevent them. I send relevant provisions.
I opened my laptop and compiled applicable clauses from the Occupational Safety and Health Act and Serious Accidents Punishment Act into a file for transmission.
*****
Yu Eung-bu arrived in Samcheok ten days after the incident. He didn't go to the ironworks first. He visited the homes of the dead. Wails leaked from within.
"I came too late."
With those words, he stayed long. Next, the rooms of the injured.
"From now on, I will protect you."
Then, he gathered all officials, artisans, and slaves in the front yard of Samcheok Ironworks.
"I know nothing of ironworking."
The crowd murmured.
"Thus, you are my teachers."
The yard fell silent. An artisan asked in a trembling voice, "You call us, your teachers, Superintendent?"
Yu Eung-bu replied, "Who but those who know how to handle iron could be teachers? My duty is to ensure you work safely."
The artisans bowed. Some wept. Yu Eung-bu continued, "But I shoot arrows well, so in the hunting grounds, I shall be your teacher."
Laughter erupted from someone, spreading. A few still wiped tears, heads bowed.
Samcheok Ironworks resumed.
*****
Three days later, Sunday. I opened the SASCO homepage. Half a year ago, Seo-yeon had mentioned the "Father of Steelmaking, Hong Yun-seong Statue." Hong Yun-seong hadn't shed his nature, caused the accident, lost all honors. I wondered if his statue remained.
It did. But a different face.
Strength drained from my body. The butterfly effect of the Investigation Institute had made Hong Yun-seong the father of steelmaking. Now Yu Eung-bu had replaced him.
Can changes from the butterfly effect change again?
I stared blankly at the homepage with Yu Eung-bu's statue photo. Then I searched the site. Hong Yun-seong was gone. Erased from SASCO's history.
Seo-yeon won't remember him either.
One safety accident by Hong Yun-seong had realigned the entire world. I opened my laptop. Two offline folders from earlier this year: Disappeared Things. Newly Appeared Things.
I added Yu Eung-bu's statue photo to Newly Appeared Things. Moved Hong Yun-seong's from Newly Appeared Things to Disappeared Things.
Something nonexistent had appeared, then vanished. Yet it must be recorded as disappeared. Because I alone knew of this creation and annihilation. And as long as Munjong awaited my messages, this world would change further.