Culture Shock
Word spread through the nations of Europe that if one fell ill, one could survive by praying desperately and repenting of one's sins.
And so they found their justification: Daehan never suffered from plagues because it was a nation whose entire people clung to a single faith with all their hearts.
"What utter nonsense!"
"A pack of incompetents!"
"The nobles and clergy can't even explain what causes disease — who are they to talk?"
The people, if anything, seethed with rage at nobles and priests who could offer nothing but empty platitudes. If a single vial of Daehan's Holy Water had been mixed in, the claim wouldn't have been wrong at all — but they had no way of knowing that.
"Look here! You say prayer cures illness, yet the clergy fall sick and the nobles keep dying!"
The people could no longer trust their kings or the Pope, and they needed somewhere — anywhere — to pour out their fury. Someone easy prey, someone always within reach.
"The merchants are saying it! The Jews spread the disease!"
"What did you say?"
"Weren't they the ones who nailed Jesus to the cross? They could do it again!"
So the people began pointing to the scattered Jewish communities across Europe as the target for their rage.
"Let's go! I know where a Jewish village is!"
"Let's kill them before we die ourselves!"
"Waaaah!"
Mobs roamed from village to village in search of nearby Jewish communities, and the massacres began.
"It wasn't us! We know nothing about it!"
"Please, spare us!"
"We never did such a thing! I beg you!"
The Jews were seized on false charges and butchered with terrible cruelty — limbs hacked off one by one as they slowly bled out, or burned alive where they stood. The Mediterranean coast, where the Black Death raged most fiercely, saw the worst of it; in some Jewish villages, mobs split open the bellies of pregnant women and dragged out the unborn children.
It was the kings and the Pope who decided this could not go on.
"What are we to do about this?"
"We must put a stop to it, mustn't we?"
The educated men, the ones capable of actual thought, knew perfectly well that the Jews were not at fault.
"And yet none of them will listen…"
"Ahem…"
Pope and emperor could exchange opinions until they were blue in the face, and still no solution emerged. With virtually the entire population in open revolt, sending in the army would only mean it joining the mob.
"So we are simply to stand by and watch…"
Only the Pope's despairing murmurs echoed through the vast chamber.
And as the Jews gradually vanished, the peasants went looking for a new outlet for their fury.
"I shall be a noble myself!"
"Weren't those bastards all farmers once too?"
"Then so can we!"
Declaring they would sweep away the nobility and the crown, they raised armies and launched full-scale rebellions. Unhappily for them, the vast majority were crushed by the very same armies.
Amid Europe's chaos, the Jews had to find a way to survive.
"Husband, what do we do?"
"We run. That's the only answer."
"But where?"
The couple felt suffocated. In this vast, wide world, they had not a single place to go.
"Should we try heading east?"
"You mean… Daehan?"
"Yes! That's it — Daehan! How did I forget Daehan?"
The man had been thinking of Southeast Asia, but the more he pondered, the more one name surfaced.
"My brother sent me a letter once. He said there's no religious persecution in Daehan!"
"What? Is it a country with no religion at all?"
The woman assumed the absence of faith was what made it possible.
"No — quite the opposite. They follow a single religion, but nobody forces it on you, and they don't shun you for believing something else. That's what he wrote!"
"A place like that actually exists?"
"How foolish of me — why did it take me this long to remember?"
The man wondered, just for a moment, whether he might have set out with the rest of his village had the thought come sooner. But everyone had already scattered in every direction — how could he possibly find them now? If they lived, they would meet again.
"By the way, where is it?"
"I couldn't say for certain, but if we keep walking east, shouldn't we reach it eventually?"
"It's a long way, isn't it?"
"It is…"
The couple looked down cautiously at the woman's belly. Little by little, it was rounding out. Could she make it to Daehan safely, in her condition?
"What if they refuse to take us in when we arrive?"
"Better to try anything than die here. I'm sorry…"
"Don't be. Why should you apologize?"
"For our child's sake, let's find the strength to go!"
"Yes! I won't give up either!"
May blessing follow the couple who summoned their courage and struck out east with nothing but hope.
And they were not alone. Countless Jews already knew the rumors of Daehan by heart.
"To Daehan! Let's go!"
From Europe and the Middle East, tens of thousands of Jews set out on endless journeys east — and east, and east again.
They would travel in hiding, yet many would be discovered and killed. They would battle hunger and bitter cold. But those who finally arrived would taste abundance and rest.
For Haneul was never so heartless as that.
The news reached Haneul in the middle of her furious brainstorming over the push into the southern reaches of the Eastern Continent.
"What? Why?"
"They're asking to be taken in, Your Holiness. What should we do?"
Hm? Taking in a foreign people — would they really assimilate? Maybe I should gather them all in one place first and see how it goes?
"Are they asking for anything? Land, that sort of thing?"
"No, nothing like that."
"No demands at all?"
"Ah — there is one wish. They want to be treated the same as everyone else, with no discrimination."
Hm? That doesn't sound remotely difficult. Still, what if we take them in and the country ends up split in two? Or worse — what if my people end up getting used by them?
"Well, we'll need to make one exception. One form of discrimination."
"Sir? Which is?"
"Tell every Jew who joins my nation: rebellion does not exist here. It cannot happen. Ever."
"Ahaha! You worry about the strangest things, Haneul-nim."
You don't KNOW these people like I do!
Even in the 19th century they went absolutely berserk trying to found a country of their own. I am not watching Israel spring up out of my land. No — and I won't have them claiming high offices here while bankrolling a state overseas either.
"But what if they try to declare independence?"
"Then they'd have to leave behind everything they gained here, wouldn't they?"
"How would you ever take it from them?"
"Which are there more of, Your Holiness — Daehan people, or Jews?"
Ah. Right. They really could commit genocide without breaking a sweat, couldn't they?
My dear Jewish friends, be careful… There won't be a Nazi-style Holocaust here, but if you betray this country, there may genuinely not be enough left of you to sweep up.
"More likely they'll build their own state somewhere and leave a portion of their people here permanently, sending money back."
"In which case, sir, the day will come when that place called Jerusalem simply ceases to exist on this Earth."
Ugh… I really shouldn't have said anything…
My people are somehow the MORE extreme ones here.
"Fine. You all look after them well."
"Where should we settle them?"
"They're clever. Gather them in Sinsi or Sinju and put them on administration or research. They'll be brilliant at it."
"Oh!"
Yes, I knew that would delight them. These people truly despise anything involving brainwork.
I can see it coming from a mile away — the Jews are going to eat up every high office in the empire.
"Now, I'm being serious about this. You must watch over them carefully, for a very long time. Even centuries from now…"
"I understand, and I am just as serious when I say: the day the Jewish people vanish from this world is the alternative."
The fact that he clearly meant it made it all the more terrifying.
What if the Earth explodes someday and I'm the only one left, drifting through space all by myself?
Best to gather them close and win them over for now. After all, the Jews could turn as gentle as the Qajar, couldn't they?
The journey of the Jews who fled Europe and the Middle East was utterly harrowing.
"Papa…"
"We must endure until we arrive…"
"Sob… I'll live happily, I promise."
They moved in groups, and when pursuers closed in, they left someone behind and pressed on. A small band would stay, shake off the hunters, and run for as long as they could — buying the others time.
Only after walking that road of blood did the survivors finally find safety upon reaching Qajar.
"The people here don't stare at us as if we're strange?"
"Is this part of Daehan too?"
The Qajar, seeing these people wandering in rags, took pity on them and shared their food and clothing.
"Such a place exists!"
"Does anyone here speak Daehan?"
"Quite a few, I'd say. You don't know any yourself?"
Daehan's people were spread across the world, and since many Jews worked in trade and commerce, encounters were surprisingly frequent — a good number of the refugees knew some Daehan language.
Then one man worked up the courage to ask a Qajar herdsman.
"Is this Daehan?"
"Hahaha…"
"No, then?"
"This is the land of the warriors who guard the road to Daehan. It is called Qajar."
Of Temüjin's fractured legacy, the faction that could claim true orthodoxy — the Qajar — had spent these years in penance. For they had finally learned why the palace guard who had dwelled in the Temple had left them neither Temüjin's true intentions nor his relics.
Now they followed Haneul's will, praying to be called back one day, self-appointed guardians of the pilgrims' road.
"I see…"
"Fear nothing. Daehan is not far."
"Thank you… sob…"
"You have suffered a great deal, it seems?"
The lands of Qajar were vast. But these were hospitable nomads, and horses and carts for travel were never in short supply. With Daehan's renewed support pouring in, they lived in genuine abundance.
Comfort breeds generosity, and many a Qajar reached out a helping hand to the wretched newcomers. Watching this, the Jews wept without end.
"This is the first place that's ever treated us like human beings!"
"So this is Daehan! What kind of country could it be?"
"I can't stand the waiting!"
The reason the people of Israel had been steeped in Zionism was surely the fruit of centuries of discrimination and massacre. If they had known kind neighbors — if someone had extended a hand in their hour of need — might they not have turned out very differently?
"What on earth is…"
"It's moving?"
SCREEEECH
When the Jews saw the train — and rode it, and felt it begin to move — the entire company plunged into collective shock.
"So fast…"
"It's insane!"
"What in the world IS this country?"
"Is it magic?"
Some went so far as to genuinely suspect sorcery. The truth was that outside of Mudo, no one ever saw a train at all — the only railway running beyond Daehan's borders was the one to Mudo.
Most people, hearing the rumors, dismissed them as ghost stories. After all, how normal is it to hear that a monster forged of iron rails came to life and started moving?
"Could we have climbed into the devil's mouth?"
"Are we bound for hell itself?"
"Look! Black smoke is belching out of it!"
CHUGGA-CHUGGA-CHUGGA
When they opened the window and peered out, sure enough, jet-black smoke poured endlessly from the tall locomotive's chimney. It looked, didn't it, just like the brimstone fires of hell that everyone knew so well?
"Maybe we came to the wrong place after all?"
"No. Look at the Qajar — they're kind people, aren't they?"
"It'll be fine… won't it?"
The refugees forced down their dread and resolved to stay awake through the night, braced for the unknown.
And so came the second day.
"Wait — how far does this thing go?"
"It's been running in one direction for days!"
"How BIG is this land?"
"It's not land! It's hell, that's why it's endless!"
Nonsense crept in around the edges, but the common refrain never changed: where does it end, and how can any land be this vast?
"I can't believe it…"
"Unbelievable…"
They watched the scenery through sleepless eyes — nothing but beautiful snowfields and open plains, one great lake crossed, endless grassland rolling past.
RRRRRRUMBLE
By the third day, the whole company simply collapsed into sleep. Hell could wait. Lifting their own leaden eyelids was the more urgent battle.
On the fourth day, the train began rolling into the Sinsi Plains.
"Huh? The tracks are curving!"
"They really are!"
"And look — that's no detour. The rail just keeps going, right along down there!"
Past Samsu now, easing into the capital region.
"Gasp…"
"What — what is THAT?"
At the sight of a Gulleongsoe tearing up farmland in vast, rolling furrows, they finally lost the power of speech altogether.
"I want to see it. Right now."
"Me too…"
Some burned with curiosity to know what sort of place the capital of Daehan truly was. And soon, very soon, they would see it. There was little road left to travel.