The Customer Has Arrived?
Rrrrrumble. Rumble rumble.
"Huh? Something's weird about this?"
"Why is the sound shaking the ground, my lady?"
Even Mose and I are getting a little scared here. With no quality inspections in this era, things exploding is practically a daily occurrence.
Glug glug... gurgle gurgle.
"Hm?"
"That one sounds more like water, doesn't it?"
"So it's not broken, then?"
Still, the ground definitely feels like it's trembling. Should we back up a little? For no reason I can name, I keep taking steps backward.
KRAKOOM! KRAKOOM!
"Huk—!"
"Kyaaah!"
For a second I thought a cannon had gone off. Water really was gushing out of the pipe in a roaring torrent — if we hadn't laid gravel drainage and manholes and such, the ground itself would have been swept away.
"Whoa? Looks like the locals got startled too?"
"Why is everyone standing around like that, though?"
Mose and I had only come to the pump house to switch the machine on, but the Japanese gathered along the embankment had all tumbled over in a heap, staring blankly at the water pouring out.
"Has the water goddess Wakaukanome descended upon us!"
"How does that hole conjure up water like this!"
"It's an oni! A demon, I say!"
"A dragon! It is the breath of a dragon!"
Some stood there muttering in a daze while others rolled straight down the slope of the reservoir. Total chaos. Absolute chaos.
"Pwahahaha."
"Country bumpkins, the lot of them..."
Mose and I just found it absurd.
Hm? Someone's sprinting over here, completely out of breath? Is that Nakamura?
"Hah... hah... hah..."
"Why are you running yourself ragged like that?"
A man his age should be taking a nice walk, shouldn't he? He's going to pass out at this rate.
"That! What is that thing!"
"The reservoir?"
The reservoir? Does he mean the pump?
"No! The hole spewing out all that water — what is it?"
"Just an ordinary water pump. You use waterwheels around here too, don't you?"
Waterwheels are old news here too, no? Is that really so astonishing?
"Gah! And yet it draws water with no man to work it?"
"What's so difficult about that?"
"Good heavens..."
It's hardly remarkable, is it? It's not as if they've never seen a hydraulic ram, have they?
Trudge. Trudge. Trudge.
What's with him? Why is the man walking off with his soul left behind here?
"What's the matter with him?"
"Primitive folk are easily startled, my lady."
"That counts as startled?"
To think the word 'primitive' would actually come out of Mose's mouth...
The Japanese really do lag a long way behind, don't they.
They say any technology advanced enough is indistinguishable from magic. How saddening, truly...
Have they already forgotten the trains that used to run through Iwami? Well, it was an awfully long time ago, I suppose.
"This thing needs coal shoveled in now and then, so we'll need someone to look after it, won't we?"
"Shall we have the Japanese handle it?"
"What if they break it..."
Technology leaks don't worry me at all — what worries me is these fools fiddling with it and breaking the thing...
It's the steam turbine that actually matters; a piston contraption like this, well, who cares.
"Still, it certainly lifts the water briskly enough, doesn't it?"
Machines really are remarkable. How many men would it take to raise this much water with a wheel alone?
The water pump shocked the locals, to be sure — but it did far more than that. It planted in them a genuine awe of Daehan.
To their eyes, it was no different from drawing water up out of bare, empty earth.
"My lord daimyo... what could that thing possibly be?"
"..."
"..."
Neither Nakamura, now called a daimyo, nor the man who asked had a single word to offer.
"Perhaps..."
"Yes?"
"Perhaps we have caught a mouse, only to invite a tiger into our home..."
It had never been something to take lightly in the first place. One look at that fortress towering over the port should have been enough to wonder how in the world they hauled stone up so high — and if only he had listened more carefully to the old rumors, how much better off would he have been?
"Whew..."
"My lord daimyo."
"Right. There's nothing for it. If we don't want to be dragged around by them, we must build up our own strength!"
"Yes, my lord!"
Though Nakamura steeled himself and declared his resolve, there was something oddly deflated about his voice.
The pump's output was more than respectable, supplying irrigation water to the surrounding fields without any strain.
"Is the rice planting going well?"
"Yes, my lord. And Daehan has given us fertilizer to try. We've decided to run an experiment — spreading it on one field and leaving another untreated, to compare."
"Good, good."
No one knew how effective the fertilizer would be, but if the fields improved, use it; if not, drop it. Simple as that.
The lands around Naniwa, where Nakamura ruled as daimyo, were a broad alluvial plain. Once farming took root, swelling one's power would take hardly any time at all.
Even now, the neighboring daimyo didn't dare come anywhere near him, after all.
"This too, we owe to Daehan..."
"Daehan, my lord?"
"If they hadn't built that fortress the way they did, we'd have been attacked long ago, wouldn't we?"
"...That's true..."
And how much would he have to hand over later, and for what...?
Then there was the market sprawling around the port above all else.
"How much does the market bring in taxes?"
With farming only just beginning, the taxes from the market had become their primary source of income.
"From the market taxes alone, we were able to pay the stipends of our samurai and soldiers."
"Good heavens..."
Merchants from the surrounding regions flocked to the market in droves. Nearly all of those paying the road toll at the castle gate were merchants too.
Anything bought there could be resold at a markup on the way home — and yet goods were never in short supply, so prices never climbed into the absurd.
And so a single market was pulling in an enormous mountain of tax revenue.
"What a country..."
"Look at the goods in that market, and you'll find nothing we can hope to match. Not one thing."
Such was Daehan's merchandise in the eyes of the Japanese. The food was always excellent; there were spices and cooking ingredients no one had ever seen before; exquisite ornaments and clothing.
"So they take payment in gold and silver?"
"Yes. They have no need of our food or cloth, after all."
Aside from a handful of minerals, Daehan collected payment almost exclusively in gold and silver.
Even the output of the small gold and silver mines scattered through the Japanese interior was being sucked away into the market as if swallowed whole.
"Pretty things, I'll grant — but they can't be eaten or forged into weapons. Pay them whatever they ask, then."
For Nakamura, who prided himself on being something of a scholar and abstained from luxury, gold and silver were things better off not existing at all. The moment you saw them, you wanted them.
And then came the autumn of that year.
"What is this?"
"The paddies from the fertilizer experiment, my lord."
"That is?"
At the sight of rice ears drooping under the weight of their own grain, Nakamura's mind simply refused to catch up. Even to the naked eye, the difference was glaring.
"We'll only know for certain at harvest, but it should exceed one and a half times the yield. At least."
"What in the world..."
The land they stood on was an alluvial plain — fertile ground to begin with, naturally suited to farming.
And yet a thirty percent increase? It felt as though some spirit had passed through in the night.
"Did someone... under cover of darkness... No. No, of course not."
He wondered for a moment whether someone had torn out the rice plants and replanted them with something else, but he had never in his life seen farmland where the ears burst open with this many grains.
Now even farming would require holding out a hand to Daehan.
"Speak with Daehan. Find out how that fertilizer of theirs is made."
He decided it would be better to learn how to make the stuff himself.
"Ah... about that..."
"What is it?"
"They say it is a commercial product."
"...Ah."
Now that his lands were settled and his tax coffers had breathing room, Daehan — devilishly perceptive as ever — kept rolling out new products to sell.
And not just any products: each one was tailored precisely to what was needed, and each one designed so that once you saw it, you couldn't bear to live without it.
"Then where am I to find gold or silver?"
"For now we are collecting it from the merchants, but shouldn't we look into the sources ourselves as well?"
"Hmm..."
Sources, he says. Around here, that would be difficult. In the end, there was only one option: attack another daimyo.
"War, then..."
"Shall we begin preparations?"
"There's nothing else for it."
Whether he plundered a neighboring daimyo's lands or seized their gold mines, only then did the future look visible. And cannons, gunpowder, fertilizer — and if possible, a bolt or two of silk to buy for his daughter — that would be even better, he thought.
"Daehan it is, then, like it or not..."
Nakamura resolved to go see Haneul himself.
"Lord Nakamura, it has been far too long."
"Indeed. And you have kept well, Lady Haneul?"
Hm? Look at him, actually saying 'Lady Haneul.' Speaking neither formally nor casually, but in some strange in-between register.
"Please, allow us to serve you some tea first."
"Thank you."
Business hours are open. Tea ceremonies are all the rage in Japan lately, aren't they? And I happen to have some very fine merchandise in stock.
Clink. Clink.
"My, my..."
They say the reason the Japanese decorate their guest rooms so lavishly is to show off their own status? Well then, heh heh heh. I'll show off with genuinely good things.
What she was bringing out now were pieces specially commissioned from the Eastern Continent. There were no tea utensils to be had there, so they'd had to carry samples over and have them made.
"The patterns and the glaze are beautiful."
"Only a man of your standing could truly appreciate the value of these, Lord Nakamura."
"Heh heh heh."
Ooh, he's hooked! I'll have to tuck a set in as a gift when he leaves. Go invite guests here and there and spread the word for me, please and thank you~
"Take these. I'll have them packed for you on your way out."
"Oh..."
This man fancies himself a man of letters — part of the literati class, so he keeps gold and silver trinkets at arm's length.
Cloth and paper, on the other hand — and this teaware — well, those he simply cannot resist. No matter the price, he refuses to classify these as luxuries.
Look at him. The man can't take his eyes off the teacup.
Clink.
"Forgive my clumsy form — I'm not well versed in the ceremony."
"Not at all. The heart is what matters."
She had brewed the tea with real care, all things considered.
"Please, drink."
"Thank you."
Sluuurp.
Does he like the leaves? You wouldn't know our blending, would you? Heh heh heh.
This was a special blend, mixed from all sorts of tea leaves. He'd never taste anything like it anywhere else.
"Hah—!"
"Is it too hot?"
You have to play innocent and ask, or the old man won't find it easy to bring up what he actually came to say.
"What tea is this?"
See? It doesn't matter one bit if I'm bad at the ceremony itself — the kids experimented on the blend a thousand times over!
"It's our own Daehan Tea."
"Good heavens..."
"I'll send you off with a generous supply, of course."
"Thank you..."
But this old man? He hasn't said a word about why he came today. Just sitting there sipping tea.
Clack.
"We've brought out some sweets as well. Do have them together — they pair wonderfully with the bitterness."
"Thank you."
A touch of sweetness makes the bitter things taste better, doesn't it?
"Mmm... heh heh..."
Doesn't the flavor just come alive? This pairing is a winner, I'm telling you. And look at this old man — he's forgotten why he came entirely, too busy eating.
"Ahem. Ahem."
Only after eating and drinking his fill does he seem to have come back to his senses.
"Heh heh. Forgive my disgraceful display."
"Not at all. Think nothing of it."
"The truth is, I came hoping I might receive the fertilizer in advance."
Hm? A loan, is it? How much did he come prepared to ask for?
Well. It's just ground-up old potatoes, honestly — I could sell it for shipping costs alone, but I can't exactly do that...
Three bu of farmland yields enough rice to feed one adult for a year. That's 250 won worth of rice, isn't it?
"I'll sell you enough fertilizer for three bu of land for 35 won. One nyang of silver comes to 1,000 won."
"Good heavens..."
Go on, do the math quickly! Roughly speaking, we're just splitting the extra harvest down the middle!
Frankly, if he farms with the fertilizer and sells the surplus for silver and gold, he's the one coming out ahead.
The only reason we don't do it ourselves is that it's a colossal hassle. Fighting with the neighboring daimyo, haggling over every last thing — ugh. I have zero interest in poking my nose into other people's countries.
"Then what of the interest, my lady?"
"I won't charge interest — just be sure to have gold or silver ready next time, if you would."
This is a goldmine of a business; why would I squander goodwill over interest?
He's a prized customer who's about to buy our teacups and sweets and tea leaves by the wagonload, isn't he?
And with his eyes still darting back to that teacup even mid-conversation? Yeah, this game is over.
"Haha. The tea seems to have won you over. I'll see that you leave with a generous supply, cups and all."
"Ahem."
Out of courtesy he should have demurred at least once — not a word of protest? Really? That badly, huh?
"Then how much fertilizer shall I take off your hands?"
"As much as you possibly can, if you please."
"Understood. Send someone over and we'll teach them the proper method. Too much will actually harm the fields, you see."
"Oh? Is that so?"
I couldn't say for certain, but pile on too much and doesn't the crop just die?
And so our good Nakamura went home hauling a whole bundle of gifts.
The fertilizer really is found money, you know? All we do is take potatoes past their prime, grind them up, and let them rot into the soil.
And if he decides later that he doesn't need it anymore and stops buying? Eh, we'll just dump it into the sea or something.