Chapter 134
Chapter 134
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 134
Chapter Title: East India Company Joseon Branch (1)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Despite the desperate pleas of Gyeonggi Naval Commander Yi Eon-seop, who yearned for the introduction of Western warships, the Gustav Willem was transferred to the Jeolla Left Naval Station.
Given its position on the forefront of Joseon's coastal defenses, the currently weakened Gyeonggi Naval Command had no choice in the matter.
Moreover, the Gustav Willem wasn't well-suited to Gyeonggi Province's complex coastline with its extreme tidal ranges.
In the end, Yi Eon-seop had to settle for receiving three Dutch slaves from Kim Unhaeng and beginning production of Miniature No. 2.
And the one tasked with its shakedown cruise was the new Jeolla Left Naval Commander, former Chungcheong Naval Commander Lee Ju-guk.
Among the four naval commanders deployed by Kim Unhaeng, Lee Ju-guk—who had been assigned to this key post—embodied the dignity of his ancestor, King Jeongjong Yi Bang-gwa.
If you're wondering what that "dignified throne shuttle" means, it's rude to ask. Though few might know it, Jeongjong had marched out as a Goryeo official in his youth and thoroughly crushed the Japanese pirates in Hwanghae Province.
Unfortunately, Sejong's dislike of him meant he received his temple name only after three centuries and suffered the humiliation of exclusion from the "Six Dragons." But now, Yi Bang-gwa can finally achieve Buddhahood.
His descendant is one of the "Four Emperors" of the Southern Sea, resolving his ancestor's lingering resentment.
Former Jeolla Left Naval Commander Park Jae-ha handed matters over thoroughly to Lee Ju-guk, a fellow Chundang faction member. Thanks to that, Lee Ju-guk spotted a Japanese ship easily within less than a month of taking office.
With Dutch trade severed in Nagasaki recently, a balloon effect had massively boosted Japanese trade with China.
And that balloon looked utterly delicious.
Lee Ju-guk issued his command with a presence about a hundred times that of his ancestor Yi Bang-gwa.
"Sound the trumpets and beat the drums! Today, too, we'll capture the pirates without firing a single cannon. This is the pinnacle of our Joseon command's virtuous rule!"
That was exactly the kind of order soldiers loved most. Just as office workers hate to work, soldiers hate to fight. The sailors received the command with fierce resolve.
And the Japanese screamed at the sonic assault of the legendary "that pirate" they'd only heard rumors about.
"It's the Joseon Bandits!"
The Joseon Bandits rampaging in the southern seas remained mere rumor for now.
Hard to flee on the open ocean, and the Liberation Squadron never released captives. Volunteers had increased from before, but the navy was still shunned, making talent precious.
Thus, even the shogunate struggled to mount an official response. That delay was fully transferred as damage to Japanese trading vessels.
Lee Ju-guk's boast of capturing them without combat wasn't mere bluster.
Its unfamiliar silhouette and massive size—over three times that of a Joseon warship—shattered the Japanese will to resist.
Of course, trading ships of this era were pirate vessels by default. Some fighting was inevitable.
But it amounted to little more than swinging swords because they had them. The soldiers hurling the sajo-gu—Chungmugong's legacy of iron grapples with four claws—were almost cheerful about it.
Once the ship was seized, Lee Ju-guk held a strict onboard trial.
Inspecting the cargo, Lee Ju-guk couldn't conceal his astonishment.
"Gold, silver, and copper are items the state strictly forbids from export, yet you're loading them up? Your gall knows no bounds!"
Of course, some Japanese knew propriety.
"It's forbidden in Joseon, not our country."
And those who knew propriety always said the same thing.
Crack!
"Looks like he's fainted."
"Drag him out. Anyone else care to argue? I'll hear you all out."
"......"
No one raised objections to the fair and just verdict, so Lee Ju-guk rose from his seat. He delivered a moving exhortation to both his troops and the "Japanese bandits."
"My family has long suppressed Japanese pirates, so I can't help but throw myself into this with zeal. This is merely reclaiming the wealth you plundered from our lands during the Imjin and Jeongyu years—righteous by any measure."
Eternal resentment indeed. Strict justice knows no expiration date.
To Joseon scholars, statutes of limitations were laughable. Does a crow turn white after a millennium?
The justification Kim Unhaeng had taught Lee Ju-guk shone with brilliant light.
The marines were too moved to speak. And the Japanese were too terrified to speak.
Thus, a beautiful silence blanketed the sea.
The serene Morning Kingdom [Joseon].
Even had the Japanese invoked the name of Joseon's terror lord in rebuttal, Lee Ju-guk would have refuted them handily.
Sejong had his reasons from the start. He disliked foreigners, but above all, Tsushima was the pirates' stronghold.
Japanese pirates were pirates. And while modern folk might not grasp it, on this sea world, pirates were humanity's public enemy—killing them anywhere incurred no crime.
Even stringent American games gave free rein to butchering "zombies (not human)" or "Nazis (not human)," no matter the brutality.
As a result, profit-hungry marines saw any ship as a Japanese vessel through profit-tinted glasses.
After fruitful labor returning to the Left Naval Station, the lead lookout peered through his spyglass and urgently reported.
"Another Japanese ship to the north!"
Everyone felt the surreal thrill of a fisherman netting full hauls twice in a row.
But moments later, peering through the spyglass himself, Lee Ju-guk frowned.
"Isn't that a Joseon ship?"
Disappointment clouded the officers' faces.
Joseon ships made for poor business—cargo at best fish or rice, worse a bundle of letters. No spoils meant no "military merit."
But this time, even that seemed unlikely.
Having noted its unfamiliar design, Lee Ju-guk's eyes widened.
"Pigeons are flying from the ship."
"Pardon? Not seagulls, but pigeons, sir?"
"Exactly. I think I know whose ship it is. Send the flagship ahead! I'll greet them personally."
Even if all four Left and Right Naval Commanders of Jeolla and Gyeongsang Provinces were on my side, they were fundamentally court officials.
They had terms of office. The dominance I'd built over Joseon's southern seas wasn't eternal.
I had to achieve my goals while our Noron Chundang Four Emperors held the line.
Moreover, the window for my free action was now, while I remained unemployed.
That was why I'd rushed to buy a ship and attempt the voyage myself.
But the route was no easy matter.
Not storms or reefs.
Heading south from Seoul, I encountered the Liberation Squadron once a day—mostly unambiguous sea gangsters.
They'd neatly divided maritime territories and institutionalized protection rackets.
The claim that longitude measurement required a chronometer was Western sales patter to hawk those fancy gadgets. Put money on the line, and they'd manage.
Funny thing was, the Liberation Squadron smashed the rice bowls of coastal magistrates and clerks who meddled, so fishermen numbers actually grew.
It's not the extortion itself, but its predictability, that matters.
But that was their problem; from my standpoint, it was a real headache.
Not all Liberation Squadrons answered to me, so real fights nearly broke out a couple times.
Couldn't drop the Crown Prince's name, nor would it have worked. Joseon's coast turning into a great trade route? Civilization sorely needed.
Still, Lee Ju-guk recognizing the pigeon signal was a relief. Flags were too easily imitated—this was my unique proof of identity.
Guided by the fleet into the Left Naval Station, Commander Lee Ju-guk gave me a warm welcome.
"Chun-sik, I truly didn't expect you to come in person."
"Now that I'm jobless, I have to do something."
"Haha. Fair enough, but surely a man of your stature isn't here for mere trade. Is there something I can help with?"
It wasn't kindness—more that he wanted something from me, prompting the offer first.
And I knew what it was.
"I've been in your debt so often; I should be the one helping. Having trouble offloading spoils from pirate hunts?"
Joseon is a moral nation. The king has never authorized privateering.
Officially sanctioning murder and robbery at sea via royal writ? Such barbaric countries exist, but Joseon stands apart.
Of course, it's reported as pirate suppression, a portion (pretended full) sent up, another greasing ministers' palms—low risk of exposure.
But to zero that risk, "unreported spoils" need careful concealment.
Gold and silver in small amounts divide unnoticed, but copper, sulfur, sugar—rare in Joseon—flooding markets are hard to hide.
Handle it cleanly and cleverly, but that's the hard part.
"Spot on, Chun-sik. Without that headache, it'd be pure pleasure."
As he agreed, I jumped in.
"Load it all onto one of the ships I brought. In exchange, I've loaded money and rice worth as much."
Outside Seoul, Pyongyang, and lately booming Dongnae (via smuggling), Joseon lacks true commercial hubs.
Honam especially has no need for extra commerce—rice grows in abundance.
In other words, money laundering desired, but no washing machine. Samhwadae and the Dog-Beating faction handle it.
Lee Ju-guk, braced for heavy fencing costs, brightened up.
"What do you want in return?"
Quick decisions—pride of Noron Chundang. I stated my business at once.
"Sell me this two-master (Gustav Willem)."
Strictly speaking, I wasn't the buyer.
The Dutch East India Company was.
Why VOC out of nowhere? State vessels are off-limits. They're a company.
Why not lease or build private under my name for Japan?
If Japanese bypassed Four Emperors' watch with a report to court?
"Kim Unhaeng's ship arrived in our country..."
"What the hell is this madman?"
Status window aside, even hypothetically, Joseon registry impossible.
VOC only. Whatever piracy they commit feels natural—no escalation.
"What piracy?"
Good question.
I—or more precisely, Uyst Naal, the senior Dutch slave I'd brought, in his role as "VOC Joseon Branch Supreme Commander and Merchant Chief"—reacquired the Gustav Willem.
Pitiful sight, sobbing as he thumbprinted, but no time for others' worries.
Price: one bottle of liquor. Lee Ju-guk thought it a goblin prank at first, but grinned and approved after hearing the plan and potential revenue.
Of course, this document stays secret in Joseon. Naval logs record the ship departing for outer-sea patrol.
The same held at Gyeongsang Left Naval Station soon after.
Another reason for needing VOC: persuading Gyeongsang Left Commander Han Jung-ryang, holder of the other Dutch vessel Denisbelt.
Han Jung-ryang's top gripe was Japan's seclusion choking Tsushima smuggling.
Even I, pondering Ulleung smuggling base withdrawal, felt the pain of Joseon's tributary policy rationale.
For quest completion and Ulleung revival, this venture required "VOC cooperation."
As Dejima's eager demolition showed, Japan's elite prefer no Dutch. Lock the country, form a cozy society—they thrive.
Like me targeting Joseon's elite with seclusion.
Opening invites Western rot: republics, revolutions, rights from lowly scum. Fully agree.
But Japan's Rangakusha scholars, barrier domain lords, profit-rich townsfolk think differently.
Hiraga Gennai informed me Western learning ran deeper than my 21st-century knowledge. Their influence substantial.
Imagine that info hitting Edo amid factional squabbles: "Expelled Dutch sent ships to Joseon, begged forgiveness, gained trade rights."
Joseon government: "What nonsense?" Batavia query same.
Deemed rumor, shogunate can't act officially.
Underground? Different. Unless shogunate spies mimic the shogun, they'll quietly probe truth.
System dictates outsourcing to daimyo or pirate clans (non-direct), slashing smuggling difficulty. "Probe" means smuggling license.
I plan to dangle this bait at Tsushima—no Nagasaki contacts.
For cash-strapped Matsuura clan, tempting to feign gullibility knowingly.
Hence, Joseon VOC branch essential.
Info manipulation this easy—always strikes me—open ports unnecessary. Neither Joseon nor Japan opens till dirt fills my eyes.
Daewongun... seclusion supreme.
Han Jung-ryang seemed to mull my explanation.
"So you're dragging these two two-masters to Tsushima? Sounds plausible, but one slip and it's all exposed—precarious scheme."
Our friendship lately transcended civil-military divides, deeper than ever.
So I replied casually.
"Ah, if it fails, getting caught's fine. It'll be those vile Redhairs—expelled from Nagasaki—abusing Joseon's name in a shameless ploy."
If it flops, pin it all on Dutch slaves and cut loose.
VOC's self-staged scam, colluding with Joseon prisoners and Japanese foes.
Tsushima Japs howl unanimously "We saw the ships"? Useless.
Joseon naval auditors sell to Redhairs? Absurd.
Even Tsushima, forged diplomacy pros for centuries, that's crossing the line. Won Gyun burned ships, didn't sell to Japs.
Palace king never learns truth. Ministers defend me (true scholar) or Dutch/Japanese (pirates)?
Han laughed in disbelief.
"Haha, always think it, but Chun-sik, you're really..."
What? Zhuge Liang type? Tired cliché from prince.
"...if not our side, for the country, I'd take your head this instant."
Haha. Buddy. Save military humor for soldiers—nearly misunderstood.
I shot a "joking, right?" look, but Han gazed warmly, unwavering.
As I shifted to questioning stare, Han changed tack.
"You won't stop here. I hope you never falter ahead. Then I'll cut the heads blocking your path myself."
Who blocks my path? The king?
Treason? You too?
I tried probing deeper, but Han offered no more explanation and rose.
Truthfully, Kim Unhaeng's greatest gain this voyage: not one Four Emperor blocked his near-treasonous scheme.
Thanks to his meticulous benefits and face-saving, or perhaps desensitized thresholds from endless plots and rebellions.
But not the core reason.
Post-Liberation Squadron, Joseon troops awakened power sealed since Goryeo's military regime fell.
One desperate modern proved Joseon's vaunted admin docs and surveillance illusory in key ways.
Tax collection, shipbuilding, foreign meddling—they emerge unscathed. Nay, thriving.
Liberation and Pingseon-gwan fill treasuries, weaken local armies boosting regional economies, while bribe cycles explode capital circulation. Economy's magic: velocity trumps total sum.
Contra civilian gaslighting, they too can steer the nation.
This pride matters.
From subservience to mastery. Friedrich Nietzsche fodder, a century hence.
As Han Jung-ryang—first naval general to bet on Kim Unhaeng at Uijin—wished.
And so, that modern indifferent to nation or humanity's fate "visited" Tsushima five days later with two Western warships.
Of course, mere VOC visit, suspiciously "employing" many Joseon folk—Kim Unhaeng not even interpreter.
Foredeck: stiff-faced Uyst Naal and Dutch crew. Proud VOC Joseon Branch staff.
Most Tsushima folk naturally deemed it an "invasion."
Matsuura Keisen—inkstones prepped, testing seclusion excuse—same.
Author's Note
1. The sajo-gu resembles an anchor with four claws [爪], mainly used to hook and drag fleeing ships. Tradition says Yi Sun-sin invented it during the Imjin War, but similar weapons existed worldwide since antiquity, so it likely means he improved and systematized it.
2. Zombies and Nazis fair game for gore, so Nazi zombie army FPS games abounded with extreme violence. Not sure about now.
3. Though not attacking foreign ships as in-story, late Joseon naval stations did seize passing freighters for tolls to fund operations.