International Farce City - 3: Raphael
After sending back the Na fellow—whose name had been twisted into the Central Plains-style "Napa-ro"—I racked my brains at top speed.
Hangju wasn't an unknown city to me. Back when the water bandits ravaged Dong-gu Wang's ships, hadn't I rushed all the way to Hangju to soothe his fury? Of course, I'd been so focused on placating Dong-gu Wang and carving up those bandit scum like diced radish that I hadn't paid much attention to the city itself. With his rage boiling right in front of me, who had time to admire the scenery?
I vaguely knew trade was booming there, though.
Thanks to the massive mango shipment from Dong-gu Wang, I'd gotten a real feel for how goods flowed in and out of Hangju, fueling a vibrant trade scene. Those mangoes had been pretty damn tasty, too. Anyway, that was my image of Hangju: a bustling international trade hub, stably anchored by Dong-gu Wang himself.
"Goryeo! The Goryeo bastards are beating up merchants left and right in Hangju!"
I never imagined I'd hear something like that.
What a headache. In a capitalist society, fierce competition in an open market is nothing unusual. But if you're going to throw destructive tantrums, do it in your own backyard—why wreck someone else's carefully laid table? The more Goryeo merchants rampaged in Hangju, the more foreign traders shrank back. And when traders pulled out, the whole setup we'd built started teetering. An international trade city teeming with diverse goods would devolve into just another mundane port swapping stuff with Goryeo.
No good.
That wouldn't do at all. Daesong didn't just restrict foreign exchange to Hangju—we hadn't cut it off entirely. The Emperor himself actively promoted it. Hell, in a hundred years or so, the Age of Discovery would dawn. Daesong needed to hop on ships and play the game to assert ourselves amid the shifting world order. We couldn't survive as mere suckers buying in bulk or silver-spewing machines.
"Wi-cheo."
"Yes, my lord."
"Check how many blue-eyed foreigners are in Soju. The local officials there must have some grasp of the situation."
"Understood."
Jo Wi-cheo bowed sharply and turned away with Kki-ong-i in tow.
First things first: gauge the severity. Was it commonplace for foreign merchants to get fleeced by Goryeo thugs and end up as day laborers? Or was Napa-ro just an unlucky tragedy? If the latter, a simple expression of regret would suffice. But if the former, the government had to step in.
Government meddling in capitalist free markets? That's 18th-century talk. In the 14th century, it's fine for the state to intervene.
"Gaga."
"Huh?"
"Do I have anything to do too?"
Amid all this, Ak I-yeon spoke up, her face oddly flushed. She must be thrilled at the chance to tackle her first official duty as a bureaucrat.
"Yeah. Come tour Soju with me."
"Pardon?"
She tilted her head at my words.
"Soju's a big place. Even Wi-cheo can't survey it alone, so we should circle around and check the vibe ourselves. Plus, scoping things out while coordinating with officials feels different from a tourist's casual glance."
Truth be told, it was an excuse. Jo Wi-cheo could handle gauging Soju's atmosphere just fine—Hangju's neighbor city. But saying "We're gonna goof off" would crush her with guilt. Better to slap on a plausible pretext for some legit Soju sightseeing. Who knew when I'd get back here otherwise?
"See how many blue-eyed foreigners are milling around tourist spots, how they're spending their days—that sort of thing."
"Got it! I'll keep my eyes peeled!"
Thankfully, she nodded right away, her faint doubts swept aside. From her view, I was the seasoned bureaucrat with endless experience. If I served up the excuse so confidently, she'd buy it hook, line, and sinker. A bit embarrassing, sure, but Soju was a city she was curious about. For her curiosity and happiness, this was a small price to pay.
Human madness is unpredictable, even among fellow humans. And among those, the greed and audacity of merchants? Even Primal Chaos or Buddha couldn't fathom it.
That's the truth—and common sense—I've learned ruling this Hangju.
A virtuous soul still brimming with faith in humanity might object. But even the purest heart would grasp my feelings after a day—or three—in this chair.
Demon spawn.
Leaning back against the chair, I let my eyes drift shut.
Sometimes I toyed with the idea of ditching it all and sticking to trade with just Goryeo and Wolnam. Exchanges with those two alone would suffice. Goryeo trade was already our most profitable route.
But no. Relying on a handful of nations, pinning profits to specific countries—that's no good. And trading only with traditional neighbors? That falls short of Grand Ancestor Emperor's noble vision.
"I trust you. You will lead Daesong, confined within the Central Plains' fences, to the vast oceans and lands beyond."
We must engage diverse powers to reign supreme over the world. That's Grand Ancestor's will.
Hold the line.
Staring at the mango on my desk, I steeled myself. This fruit's unique aroma and flavor came from lively foreign trade. Now, cultivation was spreading from Daesong's south. Like the mango, exchanges brought new culture. We could produce and consume it ourselves. So we endure—for a more beautiful, prosperous Daesong.
"Your Highness, Goryeo merchants are jacking up ginseng prices. They're burning it in front of other traders, saying if you don't buy now, no stock for a year..."
For a greater, stronger Daesong.
"More ships than registered are requesting docking. They claim proper manifests, but the numbers don't match no matter how we check."
For Daesong...
"Your Highness! Goryeo merchants bought beyond their allotted quota!"
... Maybe cut ties with Goryeo.
For a moment, I seriously considered it. Could we really do without just Goryeo? We'd barely traded since the Jeonggan Change anyway—two hundred years of silence. We could keep that distance like with the southern barbarians.
But resuming ties after that long hush? Grand Ancestor's decree. I couldn't defy it.
"What a madhouse."
My honest gripe drew somber nods from the officials. Damn eastern barbarians. I didn't want to scorn a nominal ally as savages, but their antics made Mongols look tame. How did a nation once versed in basic propriety and rites devolve like this?
"Your Highness."
As I pondered how the Mongols ruined Goryeo, the door opened again, another official entering.
"What now? Did Goryeo ships ram someone else's?"
"Just a graze, but that's not why I'm here."
I nearly snorted at the "graze," then—
"Jwa-cheom Do-eosa has arrived in Hangju."
"Hm?"
I blinked in mild surprise. Jwa-cheom Do-eosa here in Hangju? I'd heard he was recovering in Kaepyeong after clashing with Kkokgakcheopmoga at Jiayu Pass. When did he resume his Central Plains tour?
The Emperor must truly favor Jwa-cheom Do-eosa.
A wry chuckle escaped me. His Majesty was merciful and gentle. He wouldn't shove a fallen minister back into the field without care. Sending Jwa-cheom Do-eosa out again meant deep trust and heavy reliance. In ten or twenty years, he'd be the court's power broker.
...But even he can't fix this mess.
My faint warmth faded. Normally, I'd welcome it—the problem-solver touring the realm might tackle my headaches too. But Hangju's crisis? Beyond even his skills. It wasn't internal; foreigners were entangled. Not political, but economic. Even econ-specialized officials dropped dead here. Jwa-cheom Do-eosa wouldn't fare better.
"He must be weary from Kaepyeong to Hangju. Prepare a banquet."
So I instructed the reporting official. Make it grand for Jwa-cheom Do-eosa. Instead of working him, let him rest. Easier to exploit him next time without guilt.
Hangju buzzed with a different hustle from Soju's. If Soju felt like Daesong's economic powerhouse of glory, Hangju was an international nexus where the world's wonders converged.
"Burn another one!"
"Burn another, we're tellin' ya!"
But I never expected a bonfire smack in the middle of that global city. In broad daylight, no less—sun still high.
"S-Stop! I said I'd buy them all! Quit burning!"
"Buying's a given—you gotta offer our price first!"
"No! I said I'd take whatever you want! If that's not an offer, what is?!"
"We don't deal with folks who can't state the goods' true value!"
Their deranged haggling drew an involuntary chuckle from me. Seller torching wares before the buyer, demanding first bids? Spine-chilling madness, right on arrival in Hangju.