Train Reaction
Truth be told, the talent I really covet is Leonardo da Vinci… but if this is the 1520s, he’d either be dead already or too old to get around.
An all-rounder genius who could excel in every field—an EX-rank talent Hui-yeom could put to any use—da Vinci was beyond his reach.
But wasn’t Michelangelo a genius who came close?
Unlike da Vinci, Michelangelo specializes only in sculpture, architecture, and the fine arts, but if I can get my hands on him, I absolutely want him.
The moment Hui-yeom spoke the name, Ibn al-Nasir tilted his head.
“Michelangelo? Ah… you mean that Florence hellion.”
“Florence hellion?”
“Mm. He’s famous for his skill, true enough, but he’s just as famous for his personality. I’ve only heard the rumors myself, but… that one will be hard to move.”
“Why? Because of his renown?”
“Primarily, yes. Personality aside, he’s the greatest artist in Europe right now. What would he lack that would make him abandon everything he’s built and come all the way out here?”
“Hmm…”
“And there’s a second problem. He’s probably bound by contract at the moment.”
“Contract?”
“As I understand it, he’s currently under contract with Pope Julius II, painting the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican. The work keeps stalling—progress crawls, deadlines slip. At this rate, it might not be finished for another ten years.”
The Sistine Chapel ceiling… that famous Creation of the World!
A strange feeling seized Hui-yeom.
This was a different world from the one he remembered, yet common ground still existed. At the same time, the flow of history diverged in so many ways from what he knew.
Wasn’t that fascinating?
If my memory’s right, Michelangelo painted that ceiling under duress—Julius II never paid him properly and simply threatened him into it. The money ran so short that his assistants all bolted back to Florence in the middle of the night, and the work kept getting delayed. On top of that, Michelangelo always considered himself a sculptor, not a painter. Being forced to paint a dangerous ceiling left him furious and depressed. If I play this right, this might be my only chance to snatch him away.
“And there’s… one more problem.”
“What is it?”
“Michelangelo is an artist under the patronage of Lorenzo de’ Medici. If I try to pull him away and end up offending the Medici family… a merchant like me will find it very hard to do business after that.”
Ibn al-Nasir shrugged, and Hui-yeom smiled.
“Well, if Michelangelo himself decides he likes the offer and packs his bags, they can’t exactly complain, can they?”
“That’s true enough… but why would he? From what I’ve heard, his artistic temperament is so strong that if you try to lure him with money, he’ll take it as an insult and fly into a rage.”
“Then we don’t lure him with money. We use something else.”
“Something else? You mean to dangle beauties or power in front of him?”
Hui-yeom burst out laughing at Ibn al-Nasir’s words.
“Hahaha! That would only backfire. Don’t worry. I have my own knack for handling that ‘genius type.’ When do you leave next?”
“Well, I plan to stay until winter’s over, at least.”
“I’ll come find you soon with the items I need to persuade him.”
“Very well. I’ll look forward to it.”
Hui-yeom decided to prick Michelangelo’s pride and curiosity.
His identity is that of a sculptor and architect, after all.
He would cast a lure the man could never turn away from.
What if I show him blueprints for a building that can be constructed with this era’s technology—yet something Italian engineering could never build even if they died and came back? Could that walking embodiment of pride just shrug it off?
He might even throw the contract and everything else to the wind and come running in a frenzy.
Hui-yeom felt full without having eaten a single bite.
Having finished his free-agent recruitment drive, Hui-yeom toured the Caffa plantations of Yunnan before departing for Sichuan.
The local agricultural cooperative branch head and a first-generation disciple of the Jeomchang Sect came out to greet him.
“It’s been too long, Young Master! Hui-jun, Yunnan Branch Head, at your service!”
Dang Hui-jun, Hui-yeom’s cousin, held the post of branch head there. In private they were close enough to drop formal speech, but this was an official setting, so Hui-yeom treated him with the respect due a branch head.
“You’ve been working hard, Branch Head. I’ll be in your care today.”
“Yes, sir!”
“And you must be the Jeomchang Sect’s management officer? This is our first meeting in person. We’re greatly indebted to you. I am Hui-yeom, Young Master of the Sichuan Dang Family. A pleasure.”
At Hui-yeom’s greeting, the martial artist from Jeomchang flashed a grin and offered a light cupped-fist salute.
“I’m Sa-jin Dojang of Jeomchang. I’m glad to meet the First Dragon of the Tang myself.”
By martial ranks Hui-yeom was a junior of many generations, so proper etiquette would have him bow deeply to Master Sa-jin. Yet he had come as the head of this enterprise and as Young Master of the Sichuan Dang Family; therefore it was Master Sa-jin who owed him courtesy. Sama Yun felt a slight prickle of irritation at the man trying to stand on age and seniority with Hui-yeom, but she kept it from her face and offered a bright, clear greeting of her own.
“Yun of the Sama Clan greets Master Sa-jin, first-generation disciple of the great Jeomchang Sect and wielder of the Prismatic Sword.”
“Ohh, so the Sama Clan truly does possess the next peerless beauty of the age. The rumors were not exaggerated. Delighted to meet you.”
After the introductions they began touring every Caffa plantation across Yunnan. Even Ibn al-Nasir, who had originally delivered the coffee seedlings, gazed at the saplings with mild wonder.
“They’ve grown this much already.”
“Three years have passed, after all. Starting next year we should be producing marketable beans.”
“There isn’t a Caffa plantation of this scale even in the Western Regions… I worry a little whether this will truly sell as a commodity in the Central Plains.”
“Don’t worry. Even if it doesn’t sell in the Central Plains, the Sichuan Dang Family might just consume the entire crop ourselves.”
“Hahaha! You jest well!”
I’m not joking.
Hui-yeom gave a wry smile. The labor intensity of the Sichuan Dang people—especially the management—defied imagination. Honestly, without martial arts, working at that intensity in the twenty-first century would have killed them all from overwork long ago. Or they would have been reported for labor-law violations a hundred times over. Now a high-caffeine beverage that had never existed in this era was about to appear? He would bet that before long the Dang people would be drinking coffee instead of water.
The seedlings were all in excellent condition. Satisfied, Hui-yeom ordered a detailed report on the Yunnan agricultural cooperative branch to be submitted to Jin Cheong, and a report on coffee production and shipping plans to be sent to U Seong-sik. Then he left Yunnan Province with Sama Yun.
“Yun, is the takeover of the Central Plains tea market proceeding smoothly?”
Hui-yeom asked on the way to the train. He currently held the monopoly on Yunnan tea and had entrusted its distribution throughout the Central Plains to the Sama Clan. The Dang Family’s influence did not yet reach the heartland, and by feeding profits to the Sama Clan—already political allies and blood relatives—he strengthened their bond. The choice had earned him considerable goodwill from the Sama Clan, which in turn raised Sama Yun’s voice inside her own house even though she was half an outsider by marriage.
Sama Yun’s eyes gleamed.
“Of course. We’re carefully swallowing the wholesale tea merchants first with gentle methods so we don’t provoke the retailers, expanding our influence step by step. Right now about half the tea circulating in the Jiangnan region of the Central Plains passes through places connected to our Sama Clan.”
Jiangnan—everything south of the Yangtze—included Suzhou and Hangzhou, the greatest pleasure cities of the Central Plains.
“Suzhou and Hangzhou must be secured.”
“I know. That’s why we’re not rashly reaching into Jiangbei. The moment we enter Jiangbei the other martial clans will start checking us.”
Jiangbei included Henan and Hebei. Considering that one of the main revenue streams for both Shaolin Temple and the Wudang Sect was the sale of tea from their own plantations, there would be pushback even if the varieties differed.
This business kept multiplying the things that needed watching.
But that’s what makes it fun.
Hui-yeom smiled.
“No need to rush the Jiangbei advance. Secure Suzhou and Hangzhou thoroughly first. For Jiangbei I plan to reverse the flow and come down from above.”
“Reverse?”
At that single word the sharp-witted Sama Yun blinked, then clapped her hands.
“You’re going to use your connections in the imperial court to start a trend in Beijing and then let it spread outward to the provinces!”
“Exactly.”
“A brilliant plan! But… will it work? Yunnan tea is already drunk in Beijing, so I’m not sure it would suddenly become fashionable…”
“Caffa will be the one that creates the fashion.”
“You seem very confident…”
Sama Yun still looked somewhat skeptical that the foreign tea Hui-yeom was importing would sell that well. Hui-yeom, however, was optimistic.
“I’m certain of at least one thing—it won’t go under.”
Regardless of the era, delicious food tasted good and bad food tasted bad. Remembering the enormous coffee market China had become in the twenty-first century, Hui-yeom could not imagine the coffee business failing, even if there were a few growing pains. And if the reaction was poor, if it looked like failure? When had any of his businesses ever been an easy road? He had started from the bottom and built a global defense tech giant. When a man of color tried to found a defense contractor tied to the U.S. military, he had faced endless opposition—yet look at the result. Had that path been paved with flowers?
If it doesn’t work, make it work. That’s all.
Reading the confidence born of experience in Hui-yeom’s eyes, Sama Yun smiled bashfully.
“All right then. I’ll pass the plan along to the main house and start moving.”
“I’m counting on you, Yun.”
“Yes, Gaga.”
A small mishap occurred when they boarded Sanseong No. 3 for the return to Sichuan. Originally a grain freighter, the train was hard-pressed to carry more than fifty foreign technicians. Hui-yeom, however, was determined to give them the experience of riding Sanseong No. 3. He wanted to smash any latent contempt or arrogance toward the East right from the start. So he specially contacted the Hui-eon Railway Company and ordered the grain cars of Sanseong No. 3 hastily converted into passenger compartments. The run from Yunnan to Sichuan was empty anyway; they cleaned out part of the empty cars, cut openings in the walls, brought in furniture, and screwed the furniture firmly to the floor. An improvised passenger car was complete. It could well be called the world’s first passenger train.
“Since we’ve already built it, it’d be a waste to scrap the car… I should consider running dedicated passenger trains as a separate business.”
While Hui-yeom was already sketching a new venture, the European technicians went absolutely wild.
“Drago!!”
“Eek!”
“I-is it Behemoth?!”
In their eyes the huge train, roaring and belching smoke as it surged forward, looked exactly like a colossal serpent or dragon crawling across the earth while exhaling brimstone fumes. It took quite a while for them to calm down. Some of the technicians even screamed and fled at the sight of Sanseong No. 3 rolling into the platform, and they had to be chased down and dragged back. Fortunately the trouble paid off; just as Hui-yeom intended, the European technicians completely revised their opinion of the Gyeong Empire.
“To make such a gigantic lump of iron move by itself…”
“I’ve never seen anything like it—not in Europe, not in Arabia, nowhere.”
“A mount no sovereign on earth possesses.”
Paracelsus was genuinely awed.
“The train itself is a marvel, but what astonishes me even more is the iron-making capacity and the wealth required to lay tracks across this vast land so the thing can run.”
Hui-yeom smiled at Paracelsus’s words.
“Don’t be amazed too soon. Once you arrive at the main house, you’ll be serving on the very front lines of humanity’s knowledge and technological progress.”
“Haha…”
Paracelsus’s eyes blazed with fierce passion.
“I look forward to that.”
“So do I.”
Thinking of the glass workshop he would begin building the moment they returned, Hui-yeom smiled faintly.
All right. Having infused a large batch of talent in one stroke, it was time for the Dang Family to leap forward once more.