Chapter 62
Chapter 62
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 62
Chapter Title: Jet Stream Attack (1)
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During the rodent extermination operation in Yukjin, Kim Unhaeng had the magistrates introduce the local villagers.
Of course, the official reason was to reduce damage to the common folk, so they packed up their belongings gratefully.
But in the end, the losses were about the same.
After all, just as much grain as the rats hadn't eaten went missing during the move.
There was no moving company around, so that was inevitable.
And that grain was neatly collected by the officials and used as travel expenses to express their gratitude to Kim Unhaeng.
Kim Unhaeng hadn't calculated that far ahead, though.
His goal was simply to minimize witnesses and prevent unnecessary variables in the rats' movement.
If some two-thousand-year-old anachronistic myth spread about beasts marching in a line, it would only invite needless suspicion.
Almost no one in the 18th century seriously considered omens or strange signs like swarms of rats, but there were always people who worried that others might.
But at least one part of his reasoning—"minimizing witnesses"—was a misjudgment on Kim Unhaeng's part.
There might be few witnesses, but there couldn't be none. You needed soldiers to guard the warehouses, start the fires, clean up, and secure the perimeter, plus the personal slaves of key figures.
And considering the premodern society's lack of reliable media, having few witnesses was actually worse than having many.
Those handful of onlookers exploited the advantage of solo reporting: no cross-verification.
Once the operation wrapped up and Kim Unhaeng departed, leaving the town to return to normal...
The neighborhood got bored.
So the participants in the sweep began fully unleashing their "I saw it with my own two eyes" skill.
"When the royal inspector, seated high on his white steed, swung his fan, the Dumangang River parted left and right, the waters receding as rats poured into the gap!"
"Indeed. A sight I'll never forget till my dying day. The hundreds of thousands of rats trailing the inspector's horsehooves looked like mountains on the move!"
"Come on, even you have to admit that's exaggeration."
When someone defending Joseon's rationality pushed back, the runner Kim Samryong foamed at the mouth.
"If it's a lie, gouge out my eyes and tongue! I saw it clear as day with these two eyes!"
Cowed by his vehemence, the villagers held their tongues. And in that gap, the truth-telling runner Samryong tacked on one more "truth."
"That's not all. The inspector had a young attendant at his side—think about it, how could a man run alongside a horse? I asked him later out of curiosity, and he said the inspector tied a armored horse talisman to his legs! That's how he used the earth-shrinking technique to dash along like the wind."
This wasn't Samryong's exaggeration. It was Jangbok's crime, born of quick-witted creativity on the spot.
The townsfolk of Jongsungbu gathered around held their breath in awe.
"Heavens! A true immortal, bending heaven and earth to his will!"
If even one yangban had been there, he'd have shouted, "You blasphemous heretic!" and bashed the heathens with the Four Books and Three Classics. But this was commoner turf.
And the crowning touch came from Byongbang, who'd been sitting nearby and chiming in.
"I couldn't very well miss out on county business like that, and it was truly spectacular. After herding all the rats, the inspector rode back against the swarm, and not a single rat bit or bumped him—they all scattered! That majestic air was like no hero I'd ever heard of. You know, like how Emperor Taizong of Tang once swallowed a locust swarm whole because they'd ruined his fields."
Everyone put on scholarly faces, as if they'd all memorized the anecdote about Emperor Taizong from the start. Which let Byongbang keep explaining without pause.
"His resolve to face poison for the people is commendable, but what the emperor chewed up was just locusts any child could snatch easily—child's play, really! Even the great Taizong's dignity couldn't stand against that rat army. This secret inspector from our little eastern kingdom showed more valor than the emperor himself!"
Coming from a "high official" like Byongbang, there could be no further doubt.
If everyone had seen it, someone might have fact-checked, but with only a few witnesses in the dark dawn, the rumors snowballed unchecked.
Fortunately, the nonsense didn't spiral too far.
Meaning it didn't inflate to claims like Kim Unhaeng donning armor of roasted soybeans, sprouting wings, and flying off to fight the Jurchens.
Magistrates like Jongsungbu's Vice Magistrate Ijehwa worked hard to enlighten the foolish masses.
Everything could be explained scientifically.
Kim Unhaeng had questioned nearby villagers to trace the rats' origin, then scattered rice grains to lure them midway.
It only seemed eerie because the foes were beasts—like Zhuge Liang burning 30,000 armored troops of Wu in a valley (best not dwell on how that was from a fantasy novel).
And most importantly, they had to frame it rationally to claim credit in their reports for discussing and aiding Kim Unhaeng's preparations.
So the magistrates wouldn't tolerate such wild rumors. After a few beatings with rods, the gossip died out like a snuffed flame.
But anyone who's ever lit a fire knows one truth.
Embers buried under ash can burn surprisingly long.
By the time Kim Unhaeng left Yukjin, the Jongsungbu smuggling brokers who'd been beaten by Eoji had recovered enough to move about.
So Gilsang, boss of the Gilsang Merchant Group, heard the rumors a bit late. He talked it over with his men.
"That inspector was the real deal after all."
"And no ordinary man, either. Good thing we bowed our heads meekly."
Anyone could see it hadn't been meek bowing—it was trembling after a thrashing—but no one in Gilsang's crew thought otherwise.
Human memory is easily manipulated. Especially with "evidence" like now. Gilsang tossed out a filthy straw sandal.
"I thought the inspector rummaging through our junk and taking it, then tossing back a measly shoe, was meant to humiliate us. But now I see this is a token we should cherish."
Kim Unhaeng had kept his word. He hadn't confiscated their smuggled rice.
But the contraband wasn't just rice, and he'd taken useful travel items "in exchange for straw sandals."
Gilsang's crew had figured they'd just been robbed clean. But now their boss offered a new spin.
His men looked puzzled.
"A token? From a shoe?"
"You idiot. You think a secret inspector hands out calling cards to lowlifes? A shoe's an unassuming item that won't catch eyes, and if we meet him again, one look proves it—like a military tally."
"Brilliant. The inspector may be sharp, but so are you."
"You punk!"
Gilsang suddenly lashed out at the man. The rest chimed in with the obligatory lines.
"Of course, your wisdom pierces even that cunning inspector's schemes—not a whit behind any yangban."
"Ahem. I'm no ordinary caravan master. Stuck in this backwater for now, but with a high official's connection, big things await."
"We'll follow you to the end, Master!"
And so Kim Unhaeng's straw sandal was precious cargo for one Jongsungbu smuggling gang.
Like a prince treasuring the glass slipper left by a midnight maiden.
Heading south from Yukjin, I scouted for prey to send to the capital.
Just snag one more, and I'd bag two of the three core targets, shipping the third mid-level official back later.
But it wasn't easy. The inspector rumors had spread like wildfire; everyone had spotless ledgers.
Sure, rusty weapons or inflated tallies gave administrative nitpicks for the report, but that'd only get dismissal at best.
There were openings if I dug deep. But with my Seoul ventures eating time, and embezzlement lacking punch, it was a problem.
A magistrate didn't even need to commit crimes himself.
If a son beat his parents to death or a son-in-law raped his mother-in-law—overseas-tabloid-level heinous crimes (all real cases)—even an innocent magistrate was exiled.
Guilty of doing nothing about it. Plus, the observer who'd pissed me off, Hwang Jeong, would get sacked too.
While I roamed bloodshot-eyed, probing such crimes, we'd reached Bureungbu (near modern Chongjin).
The dinner hosted in a mountain village was rough even by Joseon standards.
Forget capital prey; even my stomach grumbled.
Textbooks said northern Han Peninsula food used little salt or seasoning since the cold preserved it.
But it looked more like poverty—no seasonings at all.
The only edible bit was multigrain rice with kidney beans. The host slaughtered a chicken and served it earnestly, but without soybean paste in the soup or any spices, it just reeked of raw meat.
No cabbage or radish; just mustard greens kimchi. Which, in my book, wasn't kimchi at all.
I wasn't expecting gochujang or fermented seafood up here.
But kimchi? Shouldn't it at least be salted and fermented veggies?
I felt like an Italian seeing Americano coffee. Tempted to grab the host by the collar and yell, "Do you know kimchi?!"
Yukjin was harsher, but we'd eaten at the yamen there. So we couldn't complain outright.
Even Jangbok, with his slave palate that might've stolen food from newborn chicks, griped.
"We paid good silver and shared tobacco pouches—this is the hospitality?"
"Don't complain about free food. Want to get chased into beast-infested mountains?"
I scolded him, but everyone thought the same.
Hwang Domin, though, was a monk and temporary Saheonbu auditor.
So he voiced it more decorously than a slave.
"I heard once a northern inspector passing Musan had villagers show him rice husks, pleading poverty, and got their taxes waived. Maybe this host mistakes us for inspectors and hopes for the same? We should inspect strictly..."
Hey, that's too much.
Even if Joseon folks prized rice, dispatching rice police to thrash a vice magistrate?
They'd seen my strict merit-based justice up close; they knew I wasn't swayed by personal gain.
The two runners couldn't speak up due to status (Jangbok could as my close aide), but their faces said it all.
To prevent these scoundrels from abusing the secret inspector for selfish ends, I grumbled and dragged over a wooden tub from the heated floor. Tch. I'd hidden it to hog secretly.
The lid popped open, and the savory aroma lit up the complainers' faces.
It was one item swapped for straw sandals from Jongsungbu's Gilsang crew: pork lard. Solid white till now, but long on the heated floor, fully melted.
Seasoned Chinese-style, perfect for rice, kimchi, or soup—like modern magic elixir oyster sauce.
Everyone praised the inspector's foresight and shoveled rice.
Sigh. Stuck playing secret inspector with these guys—such a pain.
I still had to visit the yamen in Bureungbu—my jurisdiction, even if I wouldn't smash the runners.
Meeting Vice Magistrate Seo Jisoo, I was glad I hadn't listened to my dimwit underlings.
Not just because of his terrifying lineage—the Daegu Seo clan, with father and grandfather both premiers.
Not even his topping the gwaju exam at twenty.
Even stripping those, Seo's power was immense.
He could tangle with Observer Hwang Jeong. The "incorruptible" rumors checked out, but his skills shone too.
I was certain: this man would reach the three top ministers.
So despite being incognito, I flattered—no, complimented—Seo Jisoo.
"You may have heard: Chief State Councillor Jo Gwirok (Jo Hyeonmyeong) recommended you for promotion early this year. Said you're no talent to rot in the hills, inheriting your father and grandfather's legacy—soon a capital summons."
As Saheonbu, I naturally heard of premier recommendations first.
True, Jo Hyeonmyeong meant Soron, but moderate Tangpyeong faction—not hostile to me.
Seo responded gracefully.
"What's boastful about rising on others' praise? Can't compare to a prodigy like you, a needle in the pouch at such youth."
After greetings, the routine inspection.
Ledgers showed no boom, but zero embezzlement. Damn, faked?
As I soured, Seo offhandedly remarked:
"You might not know, paths diverging, but Deokwon (Wonsan)'s Vice Magistrate Yi Jaehae is just twenty-four this year. Young talents abound these days—bright future for the nation."
I'd heard the name gathering intel before hitting Goyun County.
That young? Two years my senior—practically same age.
Then it hit me.
Seo was incorruptible, not naive.
In Joseon, incorruptibles needed skill.
Wealth to bribe without taking bribes, or power to survive bureaucracy bribe-free.
Either way, no room for fools. Seo's words weren't idle.
Yi Jaehae was military. Like most, light party ties—Jeonju Yi clan, but no royal proximity.
Seo casually detailed: young prodigy earning kingly favor through talent, dispatched to Deokwon with minimal connections or family aid.
A self-made MZ-gen type on skill and passion.
Just like me.
So Seo's intent was clear:
'A king's pet new-gen like you is in Hamgyeong. Unaffiliated, so no need to irk Noron or grudge Soron. Seems a hook—go nail him.'
I thanked Seo and withdrew.
Like with Goyun's Yun Pildeok—so this is why military couldn't rise in Joseon.
Well, if building the "king's guard" was easy, who'd bother.
But southbound rumors yielded no dirt on Yi Jaehae, even nearing Hamheung by Deokwon.
Instead, another appeared.
My brother-in-law Hong Daeyong showed up with a hulking brute in tow.
I was shocked Hong came at all, but the brute seemed Changdae’s slave—not Hong's. Without the garbage "gat" on his head, I'd have pegged him a real slave.
As a gentleman, I avoid riffraff like leftovers. Yet Hong introduced the brute as vital.
Only when the brute bowed did I catch on to Hong's scheme.
"As you likely know, I'm Kim Gong's co-dispatched secret inspector, former Ye mungwan censor Chae Je-gong. Deep thanks for aiding my foolish brother-in-law thus far."
Author's Notes
1. Strictly speaking, Great Ancestor Sinhaeng Taebo's armored horse sorcery is "sinhaengbeop," distinct from earth-shrinking. The latter shrinks space itself—like Alcubierre warp drive—while sinhaengbeop just speeds steps.
2. Soybean armor tale is from baby general Uturi legend. But actual Uturi is set in Jirisan—opposite Hamgyeong.
3. All on Seo Jisoo factual. Got Jo Hyeonmyeong's rec; promoted to capital soon. His three generations as premiers true.
4. Yi Jaehae was Deokwon's vice mag then; details next chapter. As in Goyun ep, inspectors targeted isolated parties, military, or weak clans—not career-enders.