Preparations for Departure
To cut straight to the conclusion: the elders of the Dang Family failed to stop Hwi-yeom.
"We're going there to negotiate with the Yunnan Provincial Governor, the heads of the major merchant houses, and possibly even the Southern Savage Beast Palace and the Jeomchang Sect. The person holding full authority over those negotiations has to go himself.
Is there anyone who can go in my place and land us those deals?
For reference, when I go this time, I'll bring back at least a State-run Ironworks-scale project."
"Shall I lay a Silk Road of Shu brocade all the way from Seongdo—the capital of Sichuan—to Kunming, the capital of Yunnan?"
Jin Cheong, his eyes transformed into the shape of silver coins, clasped his hands together and cried out.
Bak Chang-eon simply laughed, looking utterly dumbfounded.
"Negotiations are one thing, but the road itself is extremely dangerous.
Young Master, you are now, in name and in fact, the future of this Tang clan and our greatest treasure. This old man cannot help but fear that something might befall you on the journey."
"I'm fifteen this year. It would be stranger for the Young Master of the Sichuan Dang Family to stay cooped up at home like a flower in a greenhouse."
"Mmm… that is certainly…"
Even the direct-line elders who had been so shocked began to look shaken by those words.
"If I go with Aunt Dang Su-jeong and take part of the Dokwadae with us, won't that be enough protection?"
"What about my opinion?!"
Dang Su-jeong yelped in surprise. Dang Un-sang narrowed his eyes with a sharp tsk, stroked his chin, and muttered.
"Hmm, the Dokwadae, is it…"
After a moment of calculation, Dang Un-sang nodded.
"Acceptable. A Dokwadae unit armed with Dangroe could inflict devastating damage and still escape even if they fought a full-scale battle against the Southern Savage Beast Palace."
Wouldn't they just annihilate them instead?
Hwi-yeom couldn't even begin to calculate how many people three hundred Dang Family martial artists armed with hand grenades could kill.
"Very well. I authorize the journey. But remember this well: sealing the contracts is not what matters. What matters is the safety of you two—the future of the Dang Family."
"We will bear it carefully in mind and obey."
Hwi-yeom and Dang Su-jeong bowed their heads.
And so Hwi-yeom's business trip was decided.
Before leaving, he carved up every task that needed handling in his absence and handed the pieces out to people.
The greatest victim of all was none other than Bak Chang-eon.
Elder Bak Chang-eon, who had always laughed with the serene "heh heh" of a mountain spirit, was, within a matter of days, wearing the expression of a famous circus villain from DX.
"Young Master, speak honestly. Have I offended you somehow? How can you dump a burden this heavy on me and then take both your First Secretary and Second Secretary with you? Who am I supposed to work with?"
"My First and Second Secretaries are my right and left arms. On a major contract like this I have to take them along and teach them every chance I get."
"Ugh… even so…"
Elder Bak Chang-eon glared at Hwi-yeom with resentful eyes, then heaved a deep sigh.
"If you don't want to watch this family, which has barely begun to rise again, go under, come back as fast as you can."
"With Elder Bak's abilities, it would be hard to run the place into the ground even if you tried. When I return I'll bring you some famous Yunnan soft-shelled turtles—excellent for nourishment and stamina."
"I hope one of those turtles bites you clean through!"
"Hahahaha!"
Hwi-yeom stopped by the Innovation Hall to encourage the technicians and researchers, then carefully assigned tasks to the Architecture Department and the Metallurgy Department as well.
"When I get back I'll check the progress rates. Anyone who falls short of the benchmarks gets a pay cut… no, wait—only the people in charge get the cut."
"What?!"
As the saying goes, a group punishment can be endured, but a punishment suffered alone is so unfair it becomes unbearable.
Murderous light began to gather in the eyes of the management staff.
When Hwi-yeom visited the weapons research laboratory of the Innovation Hall, he looked over the items on display and asked Han Cheol,
"Chief of Metallurgy, I received a report that 'that item' I ordered manufactured was completed. Where is it?"
The previous winter, while everyone had been frantically busy preparing for the locust swarms, Hwi-yeom had used the brief gaps in that chaos to assign Han Cheol a special project.
"Ah, that. One moment."
Han Cheol opened the safe in the corner of the office, took out a wooden chest, and unlocked it.
What emerged from inside were two L-shaped lumps of iron.
Ye-eun, watching from the side, asked with a curious expression,
"What is this thing? I've never seen anything like it."
"It's called a Hagyeongchong—a Lotus-Stem Gun. I designed it myself."
"Lotus stem… now that you mention it, it does look similar."
The Hagyeongchong was a heavily modified pepperbox revolver.
It had been named for the way the multiple bullet holes drilled into its cylinder looked like a lotus flower stem after the petals had fallen.
Beneath the barrel, a blade extended forward like a support, running all the way to just under the muzzle.
Compared to the cliché gunblade forms so common in subculture, it was short, thick, and heavy-looking.
It lacked flashiness, but the length made it easy to hide in a sleeve and comfortable to wear at the waist without catching on anything.
"Is the whole thing made of Cold Iron?"
"It is. The grip, though, is hard birch."
"Rather than a exotic-shaped blade, it looks designed to be swung like a blunt weapon or an axe.
What are these holes for? And this ring—do you put your finger through it? What's this tiny loop?"
"You're more curious than usual. I'll show you myself."
Hwi-yeom took the Hagyeongchong, then opened a silk pouch that had been packed in the same box.
Inside were small metal pieces the size of teeth.
"Those are?"
"Bullets. You load them like this."
He gripped the round cylinder and twisted it sideways.
There was a metallic click as the locking mechanism released; the barrel folded into an L-shape, revealing nine chambers.
Hwi-yeom carefully loaded a bullet into each hole by hand, then lifted the cylinder back into line and twisted it the opposite way to lock it.
"I'll shoot that target."
When Hwi-yeom pointed to the target prepared in one corner of the laboratory, Ye-eun's eyes sparkled.
He circulated the Green Dragon Divine Art, concentrating the energy of Explosive Poison into his hand.
The Explosive Poison energy flowed down his hand and into the chamber of the gun connected to it. Then he pulled the trigger.
—Bang!!
The hammer struck the Explosive Poison in the chamber; the poison detonated like gunpowder, and with a roar the bullet flew out and struck the wall beside the target.
"?!"
"Hmm, the recoil's stronger than I expected. Did I use too much Explosive Poison? Zeroed about here?"
Muttering that the whole barrel would have shattered easily if it hadn't been Cold Iron, Hwi-yeom adjusted the amount of Explosive Poison.
"About this much?"
Bang bang bang bang!!
He fired the remaining eight rounds in rapid succession.
True to his former life as the chairman of a global big-tech munitions company, his hobby had been shooting; even though it had been a long time since he'd held a pistol, he put all eight bullets cleanly into the target.
Leaving the wide-eyed Ye-eun behind, Hwi-yeom turned to Han Cheol with a satisfied smile.
"The sights line up well. You must have worked hard cutting the rifling—I'm very pleased. As expected of Chief Han!"
"Cold Iron is so hard that… so I made the barrel a double structure.
The outer wall is forged, and the inner rifled section is a casting—Cold Iron poured into a mold that already has the rifling form carved into it."
"Doesn't that make the interior weaker?"
"It's still Cold Iron. The bullets are lead, so they won't wear it down. Lead is far softer than Cold Iron."
"Rifling length and twist rate?"
"We tested various combinations. About five cun—fifteen centimeters—with one and a half turns gave the best pressure venting and the most stable grouping."
"You've worked hard. How many do we have?"
"Eight."
"I'll take seven. Please present the remaining one to my father as a gift."
"Understood."
Hwi-yeom gathered the guns and ammunition.
Ye-eun spoke.
"Truly… an astonishing hidden weapon. To hurl a metal ball that thunders like lightning and spins at tremendous speed as it flies."
"…Yeah, it is."
Hwi-yeom gave Ye-eun a strange look. He had never explained it, yet she had already grasped that the bullet flew while spinning.
Just what are you, really?
"You can't arc it like a bow, but at straight-line distance it will be a far more terrifying weapon."
"It will. On a straight line it should be much faster and stronger than an arrow."
Most high-level masters won't even realize what hit them. Ye-eun… are you actually an incredible expert yourself?
Thinking that, Hwi-yeom smiled without showing it.
Lee Jinmyeong, who had been watching quietly, cut in.
"It's impressive as a hidden weapon, but in the middle of a fight it takes this much time—won't it be hard to fire more than once?"
"Exactly. That's the next problem our Chief Han will have to solve."
"What? All of a sudden?"
When Hwi-yeom grinned at the wide-eyed Han Cheol, the blacksmith began glaring at Lee Jinmyeong with murderous eyes.
It was the kind of expression that said if Hwi-yeom hadn't been present he would have laid Lee Jinmyeong's head on the anvil and started hammering. Lee Jinmyeong shrank like a mustard-seed dog.
Why did you have to open your big mouth?!
I'm sorry, Chief Han!
Whether or not he noticed the silent exchange of glances, Hwi-yeom continued.
"We need to make it so that simply swapping in a pre-loaded cylinder lets you fire immediately.
But there are a lot of problems to solve before we get there.
Above all, we still haven't even managed a bullet that uses gunpowder. What we have now isn't really a gun the way I think of one—it's closer to a peculiar hidden weapon that only works through the power of the Green Dragon Divine Art."
This was not a proper firearm.
Only someone who had mastered the Green Dragon Divine Art and reached a level where they could freely control Explosive Poison could use it.
To Hwi-yeom, who defined the true terror of firearms not as raw firepower but as the expandability of "anyone can use this firepower," the Hagyeongchong was worth only that much.
"I have high expectations for the Metallurgy Department."
"…I'll kill you later…"
Han Cheol hissed through his teeth while glaring at Lee Jinmyeong; Lee Jinmyeong bowed his head in apology.
Hwi-yeom gave a short laugh.
"Anyway, for now reloading mid-fight is hard, so we'll pre-load several guns and swap them out. When the loaded bullets run out, we just use them as blunt weapons or blades."
It was a two-kilogram lump of Cold Iron with a Cold Iron bayonet attached.
The short reach was a problem, but it would shatter ordinary swords like porcelain.
Of course, a Dang Family member who fought with poison and hidden weapons ideally should never end up in close combat holding one of these in the first place.
Hwi-yeom handed one gun each to Ye-eun and Lee Jinmyeong.
"These are for my secretaries. You have to protect your own lives, right?"
"Thank you."
"Thank you."
"We leave in a week, so practice shooting in whatever spare moments you can find."
Lee Jinmyeong's face went blank.
"You want me to carve more time out of my schedule?"
"If you don't like it, quit. If you die later because you don't know how to shoot, that's not my problem."
"The Dokwadae of the Dang Family is coming as our escort. How could a situation like that even arise?"
"You clearly haven't lived long enough yet. When does anything in this world ever go the way you want?"
When Hwi-yeom laughed heartily with an "ah, you little kid" attitude, Lee Jinmyeong had to swallow the fire rising inside him.
This brat who's only lived half as long as I have, putting on the airs of a little old man—argh! I just want to give him one good knuckle to the skull!
For Lee Jinmyeong, who had no idea of Hwi-yeom's true age, there was no helping it.
One week passed—the time needed to load carts with emergency grain for Yunnan, prepare rations for Hwi-yeom and the Dokwadae, send advance dispatches to the Yunnan provincial authorities, and complete every other preparation.
On the morning of departure, Hwi-yeom paid his respects to Dang Un-sang and Eun Seol-ran and stepped outside.
There he found the people of the Dang Family gathered in a throng before the main gate.
Direct line and branch line alike had come together; every one of them prayed for the Young Master's safe return.
"Young Master! Travel safely!"
"You must be careful of the local diseases!"
"Dokwadae! If so much as a scratch appears on the Young Master's body, you're all dead!"
Watching their cheers, Hwi-yeom felt something warm and tight in his chest.
It was the first time he had felt this way since the day his first company—started with one office and five employees—had been listed on the stock market.
So the time I've spent here hasn't been wasted after all.
Holding that pleasant warmth close, Hwi-yeom smiled.
"I'll be back."
He would become the lamp that showed the way, burning himself so that the people could walk forward together.
My path is not wrong.
The great lamp that illuminated Sichuan took its first step toward Yunnan.