Tang Thunder
What Hui-yeom had designed was a hand grenade in its most primitive form.
Master Blacksmith Han Cheol scanned the blueprints and asked,
"So we groove an iron plate into the shape of a pomegranate, roll it into a cylinder, and then… seal the bottom by melting lead for solder? Instead of forging a solid cylinder from a single billet of iron?"
"The body needs to shatter into fragments the instant it detonates—that’s what maximizes the killing power. So we’ll use cast iron rather than steel, and form unforged wrought iron by pressing it in a press. That way we can mass-produce them."
"A press is for flattening plate, isn’t it? How do you propose to make cylinders with that…?"
"Please look at the supplementary blueprint I’ve attached."
"Ugh…"
The master blacksmith opened the second set of drawings with a look of pure dread. But as his eyes moved across the page, a spark of genuine interest began to gleam.
"Hooh… so this is the method. You press a hot iron plate once to turn it into a broad, thin sheet. Then you feed that sheet into a narrow gap formed by two overlapping steel rods, and turn the handles on both sides so the rods rotate together through half a turn? After that you slice it with a great cleaver blade and produce a pipe shaped like a ( — exactly as if you’d split a bamboo stalk in half."
"Exactly. You end up with a single iron plate curved into a round oval. Take two of those formed plates, join them face to face, and solder them with lead. That gives you an ( ) shape. Then you close off one end and solder that the same way."
Han Cheol could only marvel at the machine Hui-yeom had devised by adapting, just a little, the production-line principles used to make metal pipes in the modern world.
"Well now… looking at it this way, the structure is almost simple, yet it’s remarkable. I still can’t fathom how the Young Master keeps casually inventing things like this."
I just know a bit about steel production lines, Hui-yeom answered inwardly, smiling. Han Cheol stared at him as though he were some kind of monster, then scratched his head.
"Hmm… but the drive is still human power. Mass production will be difficult…"
"I am waiting with bated breath for Master Blacksmith to complete the steam engine."
"Damn it."
Having just hung himself with his own rope, the master blacksmith spat the words out bitterly.
"Give me a little credit, will you? At least I finished that cement mixer you asked for last time."
The mixer was none other than a ready-mix concrete drum. With its appearance, Huiyeon Comprehensive Construction took another great leap forward. Far more cement could now be mixed, and far faster, than by hand.
"Now that the mixer exists, the next step will be easier. In the end it’s just a question of arranging several gears on a common axle and deciding whether the drive shaft runs horizontal or vertical."
"If we’re going to automate this thing, we can’t just let it spin forever, can we? It has to turn a certain amount, stop, then reverse. How do we make that happen…?"
"That’s for Master Blacksmith to figure out."
"Bloody hell!"
"Still… I have a rough idea. If you design a counterweight system that works like a swing—let the drive shaft tilt to one side until it reaches a certain point, then the weight drops and tips it the other way—wouldn’t that do it?"
"Ohh?!"
One moment Hui-yeom would hurl an impossible challenge that left the man in despair; the next he would scatter seeds of new technology that set him ablaze with excitement. His method of handling the master blacksmith had reached a level that could fairly be called the Realm of Transformation.
After listening to the explanation for a while longer, Han Cheol asked,
"So the body we make this way is packed full of little iron balls, like a pomegranate. But what’s this ‘diatomaceous earth’ that goes in the center?"
"It’s a soil that absorbs the explosive oil and stabilizes it. We brought it in from Yellow Dragon Gorge."
Diatomaceous earth was the key ingredient of dynamite. Alfred Nobel had spent years searching for a way to tame nitroglycerin—a substance that exploded at the slightest shock or vibration—into something stable. In the end he happened to spill nitroglycerin onto diatomaceous earth and discovered that the earth absorbed it without detonating. That was how dynamite was born.
Hui-yeom had simply absorbed explosive oil—nitroglycerin—into diatomaceous earth and created dynamite the same way.
Iron balls layered the inner wall of the shell like the seeds of a pomegranate; inside them sat a core of diatomaceous earth shaped like a cardboard tube. An oil-soaked fuse was driven into that core and the mouth sealed. Finished.
In that state the grenade was nothing more than a lump of iron full of balls. It had no explosive power at all—only iron shot, diatomaceous earth, and an oil-soaked fuse. But a Dang Family martial artist who had mastered the Green Dragon Divine Art could open the lid, pour in explosive oil, and turn the harmless lump into a bomb.
"How do you ignite it?"
"You can put a fire-starter or a torch directly to the fuse. A high-level expert can use the Samadhi True Fire. Ordinary martial artists can wear two rings set thick with flint and strike their fingers together to make a spark."
"Ah… that method…"
The idea had come from a ring-shaped fire-stick Hui-yeom had once seen at a small-business invention fair in the twenty-first century. Pinch an oil-soaked fuse between two flint rings and scrape your fingers: flame leaps up in an instant. With that, a Dang Family warrior could light a grenade the moment he drew it from his robes and hurl it.
"Would a month be enough? I’d like to hold a demonstration before the Family Head’s Hall and the Elders before this quarter’s accounts are settled…"
Han Cheol, who had been staring at the blueprints with shining eyes, suddenly went pale, shook his head, and held up two fingers.
"Impossible! We’re not just making grenades—we have to build the entire production line first! That plate-bending lathe alone… you’ll have to give me at least two months!"
"Two months it is. But when we set next quarter’s budget, you may find yourselves at a slight disadvantage."
"What kind of rule is that?!"
"The carpentry section says they can finish all the woodwork for that production equipment inside the deadline. Naturally, the department that delivers more results gets more money…"
"That insolent bastard Gwak Do said that? Young Master! If I finish this in three and a half weeks, can I pull that budget over to the Blacksmithing Department?"
"If you finish faster than the carpentry section, there’s no reason I couldn’t."
"Don’t you forget that offer!"
"As expected of Master Blacksmith—craftsman among craftsmen, man among men."
Hui-yeom looked into the blacksmith’s blazing eyes and smiled like a well-fed tiger.
Then he went straight to Master Builder Gwak Do and said,
"Take a look at this blueprint. You can make it in three weeks, can’t you?"
"Young Master, have you gone mad from overwork?"
"Master Blacksmith claims he can finish the iron parts in three weeks."
"That bastard’s the one who’s gone mad! Young Master! However many days it takes, I’ll finish faster than him!"
"The extra budget is yours, Master Builder."
Thus Hui-yeom pricked the craftsmen’s pride and competitive fire while dangling the carrot of budget allocations, driving them to the absolute edge of their ability. The truly terrifying part was that even while he seemed to whip them without restraint, he unfailingly granted rest and reward the instant they reached a limit they could no longer endure. The people who watched him had no idea that this was the same power that had once taken a company of five employees and turned it into one of the nation’s leading conglomerates; they could only click their tongues in awe.
"He’s the most vicious man under heaven."
"The Dang Family’s Poison Heart!"
And so Master Blacksmith’s hair fell out, Master Builder’s beard was torn out by the roots, and the blacksmiths and carpenters beneath them groaned so loudly that rumors began to spread of a ghost living in the Innovation Hall—three or four people even claimed to have seen the nonexistent spirit. At last, a little under three weeks later, Hui-yeom gathered the people of the Family Head’s Hall and the Elder Council for a demonstration of the grenade.
The faces of the elders who gathered for the demonstration were dark.
After Gong Duchan’s influence had been drastically reduced, Elder Jang Gil-yeong—who had seized the position of second-in-command—approached Hong Ilgon and asked,
"Elder Hong, will this really be all right?"
"What do you mean?"
"Did you not hear what the Young Master said while preparing this demonstration? This may well become the greatest crisis the Elder Council has ever faced."
When he announced the demonstration, Hui-yeom had told the Family Head’s Hall and the Elder Council:
This will be the demonstration that heralds the revival of the Amgijong.
Hong Ilgon’s face twisted with distaste.
"Do you actually believe that nonsense, Elder Jang?"
"It is the Young Master who said it. If the Family Head had said it I might have dismissed it, but considering everything the Young Master has already accomplished…"
Jang Gil-yeong’s anxiety spoke for every elder present. Even Hong Ilgon himself felt a sliver of unease, so how much worse must the others feel?
Yet Hong Ilgon shook his head.
"This is different from everything that has come before. I freely acknowledge the Young Master’s brilliance. It is also an undeniable fact that the ingenious inventions he has produced so far have brought great change to our Dang Family."
At fourteen years of age, Hui-yeom had turned the Sichuan Dang Family into Sichuan’s greatest steel producer and its wealthiest martial house. In terms of wealth and popular support alone, people now said that even the Emei Sect and Qingcheng Sect combined could no longer compare. Those who had once sneered that the Dang Family was finished and called it “the Dang Family of Poisons” had all vanished; now everyone praised the Sichuan Dang Family, its Family Head the Poison-Hearted Gentleman Dang Un-sang, and the Dragon of Foresight Dang Hui-yeom.
But—
"The revival of the Amgijong? That would require the restoration of our family’s long-lost hidden-weapon techniques, their manufacturing arts, and above all the Dobansamyang-gwiwon-gong. No matter how gifted the Young Master is at inventing clever devices, that is impossible."
Hong Ilgon’s reasoning was sound. Hui-yeom was unquestionably a genius of invention. He had also shown talent that could be called genius in martial arts—though only in the Green Dragon Divine Art, light-body techniques, and footwork.
"The Young Master’s achievement in hidden weapons barely exceeds the level of a second-rate martial artist. He is nowhere near qualified to speak of reviving the Amgijong."
"But… did you yourself not say, Elder Hong, that the movements of the Blacksmithing Department, the Carpentry Section, and the Explosives Laboratory while preparing this demonstration were highly unusual…?"
"That madman Dang Un-hwa is said to be living and dying for explosive poison, so they have probably made some kind of exploding hidden weapon that exploits its properties. It may have power, but it is nowhere near enough to speak of reviving the Amgijong. Let us simply watch. There is no need to tremble in fear beforehand, is there?"
Hong Ilgon’s firm stance finally allowed Jang Gil-yeong’s expression to settle a little.
"Y-yes, of course. No matter how much of a genius the Young Master is, he could not have resurrected a lost divine art."
"Let us wait calmly. Honestly, Elder Jang, your fretting has started to make even me anxious. Haha."
Just as the elders managed to regain their composure, the people of the Family Head’s Hall entered. Hui-yeom, who was overseeing the entire demonstration, came in first with Dang Su-jeong assisting him; behind them followed Dang Un-hwa, face glowing with pride. A moment later the direct bloodline of the Family Head’s Hall filed in, and last of all came Family Head Dang Un-sang himself.
Once everyone was seated, Dang Un-sang spoke.
"So. You have something to demonstrate?"
"Just how extraordinary a invention have you made that you dare speak of reviving the Amgijong? This old man is filled with the greatest anticipation~!"
One of the elders drawled the words in a mocking tone, all trace of his earlier anxiety gone. Hui-yeom simply ignored him. Smiling brightly, he clasped his fists toward Dang Un-sang and said,
"Yes, Father. What I will show you today is something that I and the direct disciples of the Innovation Hall pondered day and night for the sake of the Dang Family, then created together with the blacksmiths and carpenters of the branch families. It is the crystallized fruit of the strength, wisdom, effort, and conviction of both the main and branch lines. Truly it is a treasure of the Dang Family, and it may be called the very seed that announces the revival of the Amgijong."
"Hah. This is the first time I have ever heard you sound the gong so loudly when introducing something. Well then, what on earth is this object that warrants such words?"
"Yes, Father, and all of you of the main and branch families. Allow me to introduce it."
Hui-yeom drew back the yellow silk covering the box and said,
"It is called Tang Thunder."