TNT
In truth, even Hui-yeom had never expected things would come this far.
The moment he discovered the fraudulent ability of the Green Dragon Divine Art—material creation—he had assumed he would come to rely on it heavily going forward.
Yet the development of the Green Dragon Divine Art proved far slower than he had first hoped.
Unlike the Chemistry Department, which could derive the proper synthesis equations from chemical reaction formulas and then produce substances through controlled reactions, the Green Dragon Divine Art demanded that one experiment directly upon the body with materials of specific properties and acquire them purely through experience.
It was work that could only be approached with extreme caution, and over a long stretch of time.
Compounding the problem was the simple fact that his working hours ran so long that the time left for martial training was severely limited.
If one were to line up the rising talents of the present Jianghu by martial achievement, Hui-yeom’s would almost certainly be quicker to count from the bottom.
Well, it doesn’t matter. The power of the American president isn’t measured by how much he can bench-press; it’s that he can move the military of a nation whose defense budget reaches a trillion won.
Who ever feared an emperor because he was the greatest sword under heaven?
Hui-yeom felt no particular attachment to personal strength. If anything, he found it hard to understand Dang Un-sang, who clung so tightly to such things.
Still, the fact that a single individual can wield the firepower of a strategic bomber or an armored vehicle is a little startling.
Even so, Hui-yeom always looked for solutions not in brute force, but in other directions.
Just as he was doing now.
In the dead of night, while everyone else slept, he made his way down to the training ground beneath the Poison Hall.
It was the most heavily secured place in the entire Sichuan Dang Family—somewhere even Baek Beon could not enter at will.
The only person who had ever authorized Hui-yeom’s presence there was Ye-eun.
Sama Yun knew the space existed and had wanted to come inside, but her resistance to poison was no better than that of an ordinary martial artist, so entry was impossible.
Ye-eun, though?
How was it that the same Ye-eun who coughed at the fumes of Myeonghwangha could inhale poison vapors several times more toxic without so much as blinking?
Seriously, what is her true identity?
In any case, Hui-yeom made no effort to dig into Ye-eun’s secrets. Everyone, he believed, had things they preferred to keep private, and the moment you touched them, cracks appeared in the relationship.
Ye-eun seemed to find that curious and asked carefully,
“Um… Young Master.”
“What?”
“Why do you tell me everything yet never ask me anything?”
“Because I trust you.”
Hui-yeom smiled.
“There were countless moments when you could have betrayed me. You never did.”
“……”
“Besides, there was never any profit in it for you. Who else could give you the benefits I provide?”
“…Someone else probably wouldn’t work me half to death.”
“Eh~ If you’d truly wanted rest, you’d have handed in a resignation one day and vanished. No—you’d have vanished without even the resignation. Am I wrong?”
“……”
“The truth is you enjoy watching, don’t you? Watching the Dang Family and Sichuan change.”
At his words, Ye-eun’s expressionless face gave a tiny, involuntary tremor.
“…Have you learned something about me?”
“No. But your motives are easy enough to deduce.”
Hui-yeom counted on his fingers.
“I pay you a generous secretary’s salary, yet you never buy anything with it. Everything goes straight into a Nonghyup account.
Even on your days off you have no real hobbies, and it doesn’t look as though work itself is your hobby the way it is for me.
You meet no one, have no friends. The only people you associate with are the Minjeongwon staff, Secretary Yi, and a few of the Elder Council elders.”
“……”
“Most people’s motives fall into two categories: ‘acquiring resources for survival’ and ‘pleasure.’ The first clearly doesn’t apply to you, and you don’t seem to be finding joy in the work either.”
“……”
“People like that usually focus on social rewards.
The company grows because of my contribution. My volunteer work lets some child in Africa receive proper treatment. People look up to me. That sort of thing. There are more of them than you’d think.”
“Ah.”
After a moment’s thought, Ye-eun nodded readily.
“If I had to choose, I suppose I’m closer to that type.”
“Good.”
Hui-yeom grinned.
“I’ll keep showing you Sichuan and the Dang Family developing further, and people living happier lives. So devote your loyalty.”
“…Yes.”
“All right. Let’s begin.”
Hui-yeom pulled on the gas mask he had designed himself and handed another to Ye-eun.
It was a wooden facepiece with eye-holes fitted with glass, every joint sealed with adhesive and beeswax so no air could leak. Inside coarse hemp he had layered tightly woven cotton and denser silk, then packed a primitive filter canister with porous charcoal, loess, mugwort, and finely ground lime—the world’s first gas mask.
Thanks to the Green Dragon Divine Art and the Dang Family’s poison-resistance training, ordinary toxins posed no real threat even if inhaled raw, yet Hui-yeom always wore the mask.
He tightened the straps behind his head, covered the front of the filter with his palm to check the seal against his face, and said,
“From this moment we begin the manufacture of TNT.”
“Cheon-gyeong… Heaven-Shocking. Does it mean power enough to startle even the heavens?”
“Huh?”
Hui-yeom’s face went blank for a second, then he gave a short laugh.
“Interesting coincidence. That reading works just fine. Yes—let’s name the new powder Cheon-gyeong.”
It was an amusing misunderstanding born of the fact that “TNT” sounded rather like the Chinese readings of “heaven” and “jing.”
Producing TNT required the following steps.
1. Mix sulfuric acid of at least 98 percent concentration with nitric acid of at least 60 percent in a volume ratio of roughly 2:1. Because the mixing is exothermic, add them slowly and cool the vessel.
2. Slowly introduce toluene into the prepared mixture—approximately six to eight moles of nitrating mixture per mole of toluene. Maintain the temperature at 50–60 °C while stirring; mononitrotoluene (MNT) forms.
3. Nitrate the MNT a second time to obtain dinitrotoluene (DNT).
4. Nitrate the DNT once more with an anhydrous mixture of nitric acid and fuming sulfuric acid to attach the third nitro group, yielding TNT.
5. Wash the crude TNT with sodium sulfite solution to remove impurities and unstable isomers, then filter and dry the purified product.
Hui-yeom knew every method and every number. The problem was that this era possessed no instruments capable of quantifying those numbers.
Getting sulfuric acid to 98 percent was relatively easy—simply use the strongest acid available. But how to hit exactly 60 percent nitric acid, how to measure one mole of anything, how to know when the temperature sat between fifty and sixty degrees—these were genuinely hard questions.
In the end, only countless trials and errors would reveal the answers.
I have glass and mercury. First thing after we leave the lab, I’ll dump a mercury-thermometer project on Innovation Hall.
He filed the mental note and continued the experiment.
—Hissssss…
Toxic vapor rose without pause.
The gas mask offered more psychological comfort than proven protection; how much it truly helped was anyone’s guess. Yet even after breathing the acrid smoke he remained unharmed, almost certainly thanks to the Green Dragon Divine Art roaring through his dantian.
His internal energy whirled as though determined to devour every poisonous fume the laboratory produced. That knowledge settled him.
Immunity to toxic vapor, however, was not the same as experimental success.
After working through the entire night, Hui-yeom declared the session over.
“Day-one attempt: failure. Ye-eun, you recorded every condition I ordered?”
“Yes. Every failed ratio has been written down.”
“Good. We try again tomorrow.”
He already knew the materials. By adjusting quantities and temperatures a little each time, the desired reaction would eventually appear.
Every night thereafter, Hui-yeom returned to the Poison Hall with Ye-eun.
“Gaga, if you’re planning to take Ye-eun as a concubine, please tell me in advance.”
Sama Yun regarded him with a smile that carried a distinct chill. Hui-yeom waved both hands hurriedly.
“Absolutely not. Don’t go inventing unnecessary misunderstandings.”
“Truly? If something like that happens without warning… I don’t know how I might change.”
“Jealous? Cute.”
He smirked and ruffled her hair. Sama Yun answered quietly,
“Wanting to monopolize something precious is only human, isn’t it?”
“You already know why I have to take Ye-eun to the lab in the middle of the night.”
“That’s why I’m letting it continue. Still, I’ve never been more irritated by the fact that I never trained poison arts.”
In the end, mindful of Sama Yun’s unease, Hui-yeom stopped bringing Ye-eun as his assistant.
Instead he found someone who would raise no such concerns.
“Why does it have to be me? I’m dying of sleepiness at this hour.”
Dang Su-jeong glared at Sama Yun with panda-dark circles under her eyes, full of resentment. Hui-yeom, who had stayed up the same nights yet looked perfectly fine, answered casually,
“Except for Ye-eun, Aunt is the most poison-resistant person in the family who also happens to have free time.”
As a combatant she had no standing duties beyond polishing her own martial skill, so she truly was free. Being blood kin also removed every romantic worry Sama Yun might harbor.
And so,
“One hundred thirty-fourth experiment result: Cheon-gyeong synthesis… success.”
Under the carbide lamp in the dark underground laboratory of the Sichuan Dang Family’s Poison Hall, Hui-yeom produced the world’s first TNT.
It had taken barely a week of clandestine midnight experiments conducted right under Baek Beon’s nose.
During that same week, while Hui-yeom carved his already scarce sleep into even thinner slices to chase TNT, the blacksmiths, the Construction Department, and Innovation Hall had not been idle either.
Baek Beon darted about like a fish returned to water, recording every astonishing innovation taking place inside the Dang Family.
“Ooooh! So this is a double bottom?!”
“Strictly speaking, it differs a little from the double-bottom concept the Young Master proposed.
We simply bolted iron plate over the ceiling of the existing single-bottom cargo hold and waterproofed it in a hurry. To build a proper double bottom we’d have to redesign the entire hull from the keel up.
Hmph. Looking at something you don’t even understand…”
“Ohhh! And this is the mainspring? You wind a thin strip of metal, and its elasticity makes it try to return to its original shape, taking a set amount of time?”
“Sbarazzati immediatamente di questo rumoroso eunuco! Prima di prenderti a calci in culo!”
“Yohohohohoho!! I don’t speak Western tongues!”
“Get the hell out, you bastard!”
Whether Han Cheol and Gwak Do muttered sarcastic complaints or Michelangelo hurled outright curses, Baek Beon never lost his cheerful smile. He simply continued drifting in and out of their workshops.
— Double-bottom ship construction: worth considering for naval vessels. Detailed structure per attached designs.
— Mainspring devices can deliberately retard a mechanism’s action or drive something for as long as the spring remains wound. Force is weak and limited; beyond novelty toys, little practical value expected.
While Baek Beon was drafting his reports for Beijing, Ye-eun sought him out and handed him a sealed letter.
“A missive from the Young Master to His Majesty the Emperor.”
“The Young Master… to His Majesty?”
“Yes.”
Baek Beon broke the seal, read the contents, and clapped a hand over his mouth.
…On the steel freighter now departing I have also loaded a quantity of gunpowder as tribute for Your Majesty. Should river pirates attack the vessel, I humbly request that this serve as grounds for Your Majesty to command the Regional Military Commissioner of Hebei to suppress the pirates in person…
— Dang Hui-yeom
“…Hahaha! Should I call this insolent or brilliant?!”
Baek Beon laughed heartily.
“Exactly! Leaving unpunished the brazen thieves who dared lay hands on the Emperor’s property would render the Military Commissioner’s office meaningless. He can no longer pretend not to see; it is the perfect way to force his hand while thoroughly embarrassing whoever stands behind the pirates!”
Still chuckling, he turned to Ye-eun.
“Yohohoho! But if that is the plan, why prepare weapons and ready yourselves to fight the pirates at all? Wouldn’t simply letting the ship sink produce a far greater effect?”
“The Dang Family has already suffered damage, however indirect.”
Ye-eun’s eyes were cool.
“If we do not punish them ourselves, we are not the Dang Family.”
At last, every preparation for striking the river pirates of the Eighteen Strongholds of the Yangtze Waterways was complete.