Chapter 102
Chapter 102
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 102
Chapter Title: Pinata Effect (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Though it didn't suit me one bit, I switched back on Won Gyun mode and tried to force a sly grin.
"Your rush to show up right after the Kyokan incident makes your intentions plain as day. You're a ringleader among those involved in this Waegwan smuggling ring, so punishment is inevitable. Obey my command, however, and forgiveness is yours."
"I've committed no crime. Why talk of punishment?"
Is this guy an idiot? Do they punish people for crimes in your country? We'll make the crimes from now on.
I scoffed and pulled a bundle of papers from my sleeve.
"For a young pup, you're brazen enough. With your subordinates' confessions already piled up like this, you think a few clever words will let you slither free?"
Matsuura gaped in shock as he read the official document I'd handed him.
"M-My clan directed the Waegwan moonlit smuggling and distributed obscene drawings? This is slander! Can you fabricate fake confessions without a shred of evidence or witnesses?"
Evidence? We'll make that from now on, too.
To cut off his excuses, I yanked a copy of Hwai Byeon Tae Commercial Gazette from my other sleeve and tossed it over.
(According to Park Mun-su) It had even silenced the king himself. Sure enough, Matsuura clamped his mouth shut.
He had no choice. This wasn't your run-of-the-mill Hwai Byeon Tae.
During his idle time, Jeong Seon had roamed Dongnae, meticulously gathering data to produce Dragon Head Various Colors Chart.
Apparently dissatisfied with just assisting on backgrounds, he'd unleashed his portrait skills—rivaling even Byeon Sang-byeok's—insisting Hong Jinsa see them.
Even in the 21st century, I'd never witnessed talent so squandered.
It truly was a masterpiece cataloging every variety of carnal delight visible beneath Yongdu Mountain in Cheoryang.
I'd had to buy the damn thing on the spot, shelling out a fortune that wouldn't disgrace Gyeomjae's name.
Jeong Seon, a mere civilian who'd spent his time wandering and painting, hadn't yet heard of Lord Isan's Yongdu Army ennoblement—but I had. We'd nearly dragged Hong Daeyong into the traitor set.
I shoved aside the flood of memories and spoke sternly.
"It's all out in the open. Do you know why the Liberation Vanguard seized your clothes and belongings? They found items in your luggage that must never enter Joseon. This drawing's wrapped in plain paper stamped with the Matsuura clan seal. Where do you think you're fleeing to?"
No Japanese noble would emblazon their family crest so boldly on erotica, but who cares.
The Joseon court already saw you lot as "barbarian perverts who worship filth—so maybe?"
As Matsuura paled and flapped his lips silently, I tossed him a carrot.
"I'm not here to bankrupt you. With tribute goods to court dwindling and even official trade set to dry up, your clan might as well be doomed if Tsushima cuts you off entirely. You've got to do something, right? Keep it from the top brass, ally with me, and I'll pave the way."
"You're telling a warrior to betray his lord...?"
Ha! When sword-swinging thugs start preaching loyalty, it just means they're short on cash. Got it.
"I'll hand you the first official notice banning private Tsushima trade—personally addressed to you—so you can head back. How's that? Won't your 'lord' be thrilled?"
If he couldn't grasp that, I had no use for such a dimwit.
But Matsuura got it. An earthquake—Japan's specialty—rumbled in his pupils.
Middleman trading sounds like easy honey-sucking, but scraping by is never simple, anytime, anywhere.
Tsushima clan's middleman trade partners were the Dutch East India Company, Joseon, and the Tokugawa shogunate.
The common thread among these quirky three? None ranked below Tsushima.
Thus, Tsushima and Nagasaki's Kikiyaku suffered triple bullying and chronic gut aches.
Dutch bastards would whine about sunken ships or shortages—pure bullshit—to jack up prices.
Fail to deliver, and Joseon would rage over missing promised goods, withholding payment (rice).
Kim Unhaeng's Waegwan blockade hadn't sparked an international crisis because past Joseon regimes had starved Waegwan folk whenever goods disappointed.
Even the shogunate, supposed Tsushima allies, pulled the same stunt.
Any hiccup, and they'd slash Nagasaki's Western trade quotas allotted to Tsushima.
Neither Joseon nor the shogunate wanted expanded trade, so 18th-century Japan-Joseon commerce steadily shrank.
Tsushima whined to the relatively reasonable shogunate: "Cover our losses, or we can't keep going!"
As seen in So Yoshishige's capitulation during the ginseng wars, Tsushima's Joseon trade wasn't hobby or job—it was the So clan's shogunate-assigned diplomatic duty.
Tsushima couldn't quit willy-nilly, nor could the shogunate find a replacement.
They couldn't promote trade but had to cut Tsushima some slack.
Their efforts bore fruit.
For half a century, Tsushima had milked "Joseon Trade Subsidies" from the shogunate.
The first in 1700: thirty thousand nyang in gold.
Quite the sweet deal.
More profitable than the trading grind itself.
Blind money tempts across eras.
Even 21st-century hack startups and civic groups "strive" to gobble government grants raw.
Tsushima ranked among the elite.
From here, even Kim Unhaeng didn't know: By late 18th century, claiming Joseon banned private Dongnae trade (lies), they'd locked in annual subsidies.
Thus, Tsushima ran private Joseon trade on one hand, sucking twelve thousand nyang yearly freebies on the other.
Until the shogunate's fall—a full century.
In original history, barefaced lies secured subsidies; with a genuine "Joseon bans private trade" document? Piece of cake.
But Matsuura didn't bite right away.
My "native-level" foreign tongue let me catch subtle accents and unspoken vibes.
His voice dripped obvious backpedaling, clear as Joseon speech.
"The clan elder handling Kikiyaku must mean my father—he did once, but not anymore."
I didn't flinch.
"My dad's judge buddy means your school violence report's useless" isn't about the judgeship per se.
It's flexing social clout. Even retired, that buddy becomes an ex-official fixer who nullifies crimes. Same result.
Past office screams feudal network pull. Like Joseon locals appointing clerks sans exams.
Duh, even sans daddy, Nagasaki connections aplenty—his coyness was obvious.
I've bent over backwards; where does this punk get off haggling more?
I stood without regret.
"Then you're useless to me. We Joseon folk don't relish killing like you lot, so I'll send you off nicely. After reporting these confessions and drawings to court, we'll forward them via the Chawo diplomat for your ride home."
Matsuura shot up, clutching my sleeve.
"P-Please, calm down. Kikiyaku aside, we have Kawachi no Kami—a shogunate heavyweight, Nagasaki magistrate, overseer of multiple cho trade zones. I can speak to the Hirado lord too. It'll help, surely."
There we go. If your clan had zero pull, why'd you come to Waegwan?
"Fool me twice, and it ends badly."
"My deepest apologies. Forgive this young fool's mistake, just once."
Deal.
After feeding this presumptuous punk some humble pie.
"I'm magnanimous by nature, so I'll let it slide this once. Oh, and... with this drawing in my hands, you can't rest easy."
I tapped the Dragon Head Various Colors Chart again.
"Can't hand over official 'documents,' but want the drawing back? Let's call it a sale—no loose talk."
Matsuura eyed the erotic masterpiece hungrily. Not just to destroy evidence.
Matsuura traded everything but his clothes for the drawing and left. Right on cue, I dug into securing this turf.
Smuggling in this era ain't child's play.
Seclusion policies rival modern customs nets.
Foreign goods (people included) are so rare, spotting one tags it criminal instantly.
Hiding everything? Pipe dream from the start.
Some official cover's a must.
I sought Park Mun-su. Backing's for times like these.
Bribes don't work, and why would Noron Park Mun-su back me?
Depends on the pitch.
My opener slammed the brakes on his brain-overdrive.
"Banning all private Tsushima trade like this spells disaster for water buffalo horns."
Park Mun-su flinched.
Whoa, the old geezer—er, lord—who'd skewer with one jab looked rattled. Refreshing.
Water buffalo horns were top-three imports with silver and copper just thirty years back.
Now, Tsushima's "tributes" (pure official trade) barely brought any. Military demand was dropping.
But bows aren't just wartime gear in Joseon.
Bows are Joseon's soul, the founder's emblem. Folk hobby and fitness staple. Military exams still test archery.
Troops use them variably; palace needs plenty. Imports thus relied on private Tsushima trade.
Yup, private. Joseon's specialty: privatization.
Sukjong era onward, official bowyers formed the Bow Horn Guild for imports.
They handled Dongnae half-official, half-private imports, paid mostly in copper.
Problem: Guild skimmed so much copper, coin-minting stalled.
Tsushima price hikes partly true, but honest books from guild? Nah, they siphoned.
Park Mun-su disbanded it three years ago. Correction: had disbanded.
Aftermath sucked.
Hand to Treasury? No better—dumber than guild on horn ID.
Even "Inspector Park Mun-su" can't win every policy.
Three months in, he surrendered, proposing guild revival. Quick reality check and bold fix—pure Park Mun-su.
But oh-so-Joseon method.
"Recruit anew with capital," meant "No copper for pay—make your own."
Bowyers ain't alchemists.
Recruits defected; newbies schemed Tsushima-style subsidies. Total fiasco.
With private trade banned outright? No recovery path.
Worst case, Park Mun-su eats impeachment blame: "Flip-flopped national policy, wasted treasury."
Unbearable for the national alchemist.
He vented on me.
"That's why I said reopen private trade once they pay reparations! Tsushima can't hike prices with guilt; guild covers losses!
But you, yapping loyalty crap, wrecked it! What now? Mocking me? Yeah, you are!"
Ha, my lord. Calm. How could a scholar bend morals for coin?
"Reopening private trade undermines punishment. Entrusting state to lowly artisans caused this mess. Won't change reopened. Better: state workaround."
Panting, Park Mun-su finally spoke.
"...You'll devour the guild too? Figures, with your wealth."
"What do you take me for? Bows are weapons—hand to Liberation Vanguard. Their swift elite proven, no?"
Precisely my partners: Moon Archery Commander Han Jung-ryang, Earth Fortress Commander Kim Se-hyeong.
He perked at my nationalization pitch.
"Liberation Vanguard?"
"Yes. Not Waegwan trade, so Tsushima tells shogun less to sell Joseon, demands more cash or official quota hikes.
Don't chase hungry rats. Ease court woes, curb Tsushima pirate grudge—two birds, one stone."
To deny think-time, I machine-gunned my pitch.
"Vanguard's flush, no buy issues. Past guild failed 'cause sole monopsonists slashed prices. Split among units? Impossible."
That sealed it. Park Mun-su nodded.
"Solid plan. I'll propose to the throne."
"Grateful, my lord."
"Your name too—don't gouge Vanguard. Patrol Dongnae smuggling endlessly."
Damn, no awe for my isekai hero econ smarts on "competition-driven price drops"? Nitpick like that, Noron punk?
Figured Vanguard smuggling overseers would smuggle other goods?
To evade: Outsource "others" to desperate locals (post-private Waegwan), wink via authority. Me skimming too?
Bingo.
Spot-on. Never make Park Mun-su foe—rope in wholesale, like now.
I sighed in relief.
"I'll handle it firmly."
In Mexico, they hang pinatas—candy-filled animal pots—for adults' rites or birthdays, whacking till they burst.
Modern metaphor for trickle-down: Smashing elite vaults rains wealth downward.
My Waegwan trade demolition aimed similarly.
Pinata cracked, trade candies spilled to Uijin, Geoje Liberation Vanguard, Dongnae-Cheoryang locals.
My direct cut? Surprisingly slim.
No fantasy of instant smuggling empire.
Like court, I can't—shouldn't—control all smuggling.
Greedy overreach tags you kingpin later.
My goal: Ten Akamagaseki inkstones max.
I sought chaos, not control.
Sugar-scatter chaos across southeast coast.
Slip into a spot or two amid frenzy? Inkstones easy.
Dongnae shores overrun by smuggle brokers and shadow merchants?
Who cares.
Why fret over Yeongjo? Better if "trade boom" flips the realm—crown new king, snag Chief Councillor.
Commoners won't suffer much. Beats policy-forcing pirate farms via Tsushima pain sans prep.
Nail Matsuura bridgehead; Vanguards and magistrates guard turf after.
Joseon folk navigate history's waves sans future-man aid.
So I'll snag inkstones and bolt.
Author's Note
1. (Former) Nagasaki Kikiyaku: Matsuura Sanji (though uncertain if Matsuura Keisen's father); current Hirado lord: Matsuura Itaru; "Nagasaki magistrate": Matsuura Nobumasa. Similar Japanese names confuse, so avoided direct mentions unless needed.
Nobumasa held Nagasaki magistracy plus Matsuura Keisen-noted roles as shogunate finance/diplomacy heavyweight. Strictly, his post unrelated to Tsushima; historically, punished around this timeline.
2. Matsuura lineage and Japan-Joseon trade simplified for clarity. Water buffalo horns weren't guild-exclusive—occasional Tsushima official tribute. But Park Mun-su's guild accounts all factual.
3. Gyeomjae Jeong Seon finished Inwang Jeseokdo ~2 years pre-story. In-story Yongdu Jeseokdo means "all colors of Yongdu Mountain"; Inwang's "jeseok" means "post-rain scenery," not "all colors."