Chapter 105
Chapter 105
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 105
Chapter Title: Expelling the Barbarians (3)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Jan Peridon's scant patience, as the lowly sailor on the scouting mission for Ulleungdo, ran out in less than two hours.
As Han Jung-ryang had exposed during the civil service exams, Ulleungdo was a place where not only Joseon but even Japanese came secretly to chop down trees.
Unlike the inland mainland, where forests had been virtually wiped out—exaggeration aside—Ulleungdo, thanks to consistent exclusion policies that kept it mostly uninhabited, still boasted fairly dense woodlands.
So Yan felt like a jungle explorer.
He wiped his forehead with the hand gripping his cutlass. The cold sweat mingled with the coarse red hairs on the back of his hand, giving him a nauseating sensation.
Yan spoke to Joost Nal, the armed officer—or konstabelsmaat—of the Denysbelt walking beside him.
"They didn't deliberately set up their outpost in a place with no water, did they? There are just a few soldiers and workers—no women in sight. It's even worse than Japan."
Yan glanced sidelong at the Joseon soldiers around them.
"Why not just push straight to the capital? Grab a few of those little guys, scare them a bit, and we're done. Asians are all scrawny weaklings anyway, so no need to kill them..."
Joost Nal let out a long sigh through his nose.
He might be called a captain, but Joost wasn't really a soldier.
Still, he believed he had to act like one.
So Joost silenced Yan's chatter with a fierce glare.
"You fucking idiot. Didn't you hear earlier? There are plenty of people in Joseon who speak Dutch. Shut your mouth."
"Come on, they've only talked through Japanese interpreters so far. I do have a brain, you know."
"What if it's a trick? Never mind. I'd sooner lecture a donkey. Just shut up. When we get back, you're pumping below deck all day."
Once Yan clamped his mouth shut, Joost Nal cursed his dimwitted subordinate inwardly and resumed walking.
They say anger is akin to love.
Because you can't stop thinking about the other person.
Joost, inwardly disparaging Yan's 'intelligence lower than a donkey's,' was thus able to discern a kernel of rationality in his words for that very reason.
"Wait. No women?"
The brute had probably just blurted it out in heat, but to Joost, it pointed to an important fact.
There were no 'settled residents' here.
On an island this size, that was impossible. It meant the government had deliberately kept it empty—and setting up an outpost in such a place was absurd.
Moreover, despite their explicit request for a site with water, flat terrain, and safety, the Joseon guides were leading them deeper into the forest.
"Come to think of it, that Joseon ambassador plenipotentiary was overly... suspiciously accommodating."
Even Yan's claim about the captain vanishing took on new meaning in this light.
Joost Nal looked around.
A vague idea was coalescing in his mind. But with his attention waning alongside his stamina, it wouldn't quite form.
Growing anxious, Joost turned to the Joseon officer beside him to confirm it.
Joost's wish was granted.
In the mystical Zen fashion of the East, no less.
A slightly sturdy wooden club—thicker than a waking stick—smashed into the back of Joost's head.
In that instant, Joost attained the realm of sudden enlightenment, no words needed.
'Ambush.'
With that thought, Joost let go of all worldly troubles.
Having found the answer he sought, he felt satisfied amid the throbbing headache. His mind drifted serenely from the mortal coil.
Enlightenment is like that, after all.
Kim Eung-seok, the vanguard trusted by Han Jung-ryang and a veteran of the Waegwan blockade, of course didn't speak Dutch.
But any Joseon man could sense shady scheming, even if deaf.
Having keenly observed the Western barbarians' muttering tone and shifty eyes, Kim Eung-seok sprang into action at once.
And his men swiftly synced with their captain.
No battle plan was needed—such things were for modern folk.
Starting with clubs, then matchlock buttstocks, pebbles, even the rice tables they'd been carrying—every manner of object battered the Dutchmen's skulls.
Echoes of Caucasian screams, unheard in Ulleungdo's long history, rang out.
Jan Peridon, who had boasted that unarmed Asians were no match, was among the first to black out.
The Oostindis Vaerder fluyt represented 17th-18th century Dutch Eastern ventures.
By this era, they were churning out over 400 a year.
With few crew relative to size, yet ample cargo capacity, it was highly praised—but in this age's trade, that wasn't the key.
For the Dutch, trade meant killing. The fluyt's fortress-like internal structure made it resistant to boarding and infiltration, allowing few to fend off many.
Of course, that advantage shone only 'at sea' and 'with crew fully prepared inside.'
Han Jung-ryang had meticulously noted the layout when he and Kim Unhaeng boarded earlier.
Kim Unhaeng, versed in barbarian tongues via the Jangdong Kim clan's family scholarship entrusted by Park Yeon's descendants, had pretended to admire the large vessel while probing details.
Most crucially, the reinforced gunwales along the rail.
This part, called gunwale in modern English—from placing guns—served like a castle battlement.
A true sea bastion. This boarding-focused design, distinct from turtle ships, would normally be tough.
But Han Jung-ryang was Joseon's most successful privateer fleet commander.
Courage mattered more than tactics here. Boldly venturing uncharted waters on instinct alone was essential.
Thus, Han Jung-ryang felt no fear.
"No matter how sturdy the walls, without soldiers, they're useless!"
Over half the Denysbelt's crew was out scouting outpost sites. Even the able-bodied among the rest had gone with Captain van der Poort to guard Kim Unhaeng.
Fewer than ten remained.
Having slipped away early from the site survey, Han Jung-ryang summoned his hidden reserves, surrounding the sea.
Then he personally led the marines to assault from land.
Nearly 200 strong.
As the surroundings erupted in chaos, a couple of Dutch sailors peeked over the rail, wondering what was up.
Han Jung-ryang raised his hand without missing a beat.
Matchlock musket balls—implausible from that range—shattered their heads.
Elite ranch guards from Chun-sik Ranch, urgently summoned by Kim Unhaeng over the past month and attached to Han Jung-ryang, were the sharpshooters.
Before cries of shock, terror, and dismay faded, Han Jung-ryang bellowed.
"Strike before they recover! Grapples out, ladders up! First over the rail gets the reward of the first atop the walls by ancient military law!"
Even without invoking the worn adage "soldiers swift as ghosts," the order was vital now.
As Han saw it, inside lay narrow passages, iron-banded hatches blocking them, and platforms perfect for shooting intruders safely.
Thus, right now—while they panicked, clueless—sacrifice would mount otherwise.
Han Jung-ryang wasn't intimidated by Dutch claims of 'superior civilization.'
Once, the Jurchens crushed cannon-master Ming with muscle—human and horse—alone, no powder needed.
Han proved war wasn't won by tech again.
Twenty-odd Weolsong marines vaulted the rail in a flash. One grenade hit was the sole casualty.
By the time the Dutch recalled their panic room, those Tatars were breathing down their necks.
The flintlocks the Dutch scrambled for were clearly a generation ahead of Joseon's matchlocks.
But it meant nothing. None loaded successfully.
In frantic haste, powder scattered. They smashed flints, swallowed balls by mistake—every musket error imaginable.
Maurice of Nassau, father of line infantry and inventor of those 42 loading steps, would've disassembled them that many ways.
Yet understandable.
Modern Koreans learn extinguishers at least once.
But in a real house fire, many panic between pin and handle... and hurl the whole thing into the flames.
Foolish acts they'd laugh at normally become inevitable in crisis.
These Dutch sailors were the same.
"What the hell are these guys?!"
"Did the Asians betray us?!"
Just useless shouts as they swung unloaded guns.
Whatever European science boasted, matchlocks beat clubs.
In under fifteen minutes, the Weolsong liberation detachment achieved Joseon's first capture of a Western warship.
At the merry banquet, I promised Captain van der Poort much.
Fixed tariffs, most-favored-nation status, embassy in the capital—I laid out every Western demand from my past life. If they'd invented trains, I'd have offered rail rights.
I especially stressed opening gold and silver mines.
"You've read widely, Captain, so you may know: Arab records say the isle of 'Silla' brims with gold. That Silla is modern Joseon."
"Oh, that's from Al-Maqdisi the Palestinian, right? As a far-trading mariner, I've heard it. To think it's true!"
"It is. Not easy, of course. East Asian states are trade-shy, as you've heard—not entirely wrong. But as one of few who know Europe, I can petition our king with evidence; it'll pass."
Each concession 'deposited' proof from the captain's accounts to my burner phone.
Kaoru skimmed fees discreetly, but tolerable.
No accepting queries like Park Mun-su's: 'Reporting all Dutch assets post-wrap-up, so skimming now?'
Blanket concessions would look suspicious.
All for the ploy's success.
The feast ripened.
Poison would've been simpler, but Joseon lacked reliable fast toxins. Even viper venom's quality was dubious.
Poison wine? A full bowl to kill? Salt in a bowl does it too.
Crucially, this was official duty.
Not that duty bars sneaky means—but demands reporting, no hiding.
Poison exposes premeditation. I must be the patriot rushing to repel invasion news.
So, civil service method it was.
First, 'pretext'—Joseon's weak in 'chemistry,' but 'physics' shines worldwide.
After rounds of drinks, I subtly asked Captain van der Poort.
"No need to limit outposts to Ulleungdo. Japan's is on an artificial isle—must be inconvenient."
"You understand us well, Excellency. Japan's trade controls are vicious; they're even considering closing Nagasaki."
I nodded sympathetically.
"We'll review, but prioritize any sites you eyed en route."
"R-really? Such gratitude."
Captain van der Poort's eyes gleamed as he reached into his bosom. Disappointingly—or as expected—not gold.
A Dutch chart of Joseon's east coast, Dongnae area detailed—their path.
"I understand government fears. An island suits us. But this one... what's its name?"
"Geoje Island."
"Ah? Detached from mainland, reassures government; near Dongnae city, convenient for us. Leasing it would help immensely."
I nodded.
In ancient East Asia, maps were land deeds.
Handing one over equaled ceding territory.
Conversely, mapping foreign lands uninvited was invasion. Even by Western international norms, similar—but I'm a Confucian expelling barbarians.
Moreover, he just demanded Geoje.
All set.
I translated the talk into Joseon for the liberation officers.
Then, smiling softly, flung my cup in archaic flourish.
Clear tinkling—officers' faces hardened.
They'd read Romance of the Three Kingdoms or heard street tellers. Some glanced at the door for hidden Dobo-su.
But our boorish barbarian captain grinned mischievously.
"Seems you've had quite a bit, Excellency!"
I gave an abashed smile.
Next instant, Eoji—springing up—smashed his fist into Captain van der Poort's head.
Crunch! Head piercing the table, he twitched—couldn't even pull free.
Like an executioner's blade on a convict.
As guards panicked, Eoji downed two more; sailors handled the rest.
I leisurely fanned myself.
"Well done. Leftovers are all yours, Eoji."
"Th-th-thanks!"
No officer dared ask "What about mine?"
Hey. Compete with near-son Eoji over food? I'll pay you cash.
Lots of valuables on their ship.
Ten days later, historiographer Chae Je-gong's hand trembled as he penned the record.
Since wicked friend Kim Unhaeng entered service, Hongmungwan had become a heart-straining post.
<...To conduct trade per the state-regulated sheep, goats, etc., met Tsushima head at Waegwan. Leader Matsuura's words were shocking.
'Nagasaki's Hollanders are Japanese subjects by origin, yet vicious... To spare Joseon king worry, we've bound and policed them there a century.
...Lately, using poor Waegwan trade as pretext, they plot rebellion—truly fearsome.'
Knowing my crime deserved death, I couldn't delay; per 'strike first, report after,' advanced with Weolsong commander Han Jung-ryang's detachment.
Indeed, at Ulleungdo, Hollanders looted with ships thrice our great ones... Rebuked and questioned, ringleader Pan (van der Poort) claimed revenge for countryman Hendrick Hamel seized under King Hyeonjong—boldly demanding Geoje as trade loss compensation.
...Not I alone; all officers there burned to devour barbarian flesh raw.
...More shocking: map he showed, surveying our borders at will.
...Their cannons and ships elite, fearing losses, feigned agreement to lure... Killed or captured all 39, seized ship and cargo intact. No gold/silver, but 500 catties copper, many flintlocks, cannons, dirks—to detachment.>
Chae Je-gong wasn't the only shocked.
Kim Unhaeng's scheme rocked the Joseon court.
Author's Notes
1. Joost Nal and Jan Peridon were actual Denysbelt crew at this time, positions as depicted. 'Konstabelsmaat' translates variably as arms master, police aide, etc.; 'armed officer' is contextual creation. 'Vaerder' just means vessel, similarly rendered for context.
2. Depicted as 39 total crew; seems low, but minimal fluyt crews could run with 12. Perfect for trade-rich, low-pop Netherlands.
3. Japan's official stance blocking Dutch-Joseon trade: 'Holland vassal of Japan, butt out' (claiming Joseon vassal elsewhere). Joseon barely cared.