Chapter 92
Chapter 92
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 92
Chapter Title: Turn Back the Ships (3)
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It's well-known that scoundrels—those general outlaws—come to Ulleungdo mostly to evade the authorities.
However, that's not always the case.
By this era, illegal fishing and bamboo harvesting for economic gain had become rampant.
From Gyeongsang Province, Gangwon Province, and even as far as Hamgyong Province, they systematically raised funds to build ships, gathered ragtag crews called sidekicks, and set sail. The scale often surpassed even the naval fleet.
This stood in stark contrast to the Joseon government, which found even short coastal voyages from the mainland to Ulleungdo burdensome enough to alternate between the Mulsong Thousand Commander and the Samcheok Vice Magistrate.
As Kim Unhaeng had thought back in Jiksan and Mokcheon, Joseon might be poor as a nation, but its private capital was more robust than one might expect.
And the one who had accelerated this was none other than Kim Unhaeng himself.
Due to Kim Unhaeng's Three Administrative Policies, the Joseon navy had lost an enormous number of ships.
If you ignored the fact that he hadn't killed anyone, no other man in this short time had dealt such a blow to the navy—except for the legendary Three Provincial Naval Commander Won Gyun.
During the disbandment and reconstruction of the Jozol and the redeployment of naval garrisons, many ships were abandoned or lost, most of which were incorporated into the Liberation Vanguard or other garrisons.
As a result, a fair number of vessels had entered civilian hands. Especially popular were the latest high-speed ships of the era, like the sea hawk vessels.
But a ship isn't something you can just drag out and sail whenever you want.
In a game, you could keep it docked indefinitely and launch at will, but in reality, wooden ships turned to scrap after just a month of neglect. If unlucky, a single high tide or wave could smash them to pieces in a day.
You needed a proper home port with facilities, materials and manpower for maintenance and repairs, a communication network between ship owners and passengers, accommodations for crews, and even a basic bureaucratic organization to support it all.
The regular army already had this system in place.
But the aspiring private shipping companies across the nation now had to create it from scratch.
And Kim Unhaeng had helped with that too.
Among the former naval soldiers and junior officers scattered by the pre-Three Policies military reductions, quite a few hadn't joined the Jangyoung or Jozol and had returned to civilian life as commoners.
Moreover, the merchants displaced from the Gyeonggang River ecosystem during Kim Unhaeng's destruction and rebuilding of the Peace-Time Benevolent Observatory had been (navy included) Joseon's largest shipping force just a few years prior.
Some of them had now been absorbed by local magnates who could finally stretch their wings with the reduction in local garrisons.
If this had led to the development of Joseon's maritime trade network, it would have been a delightful outcome. Unfortunately, in the current Joseon, it wasn't a great way to make money.
The market wasn't that large, and commercial profits weren't legally protected. Peace-Time Benevolent Observatories hadn't yet spread widely enough in the provinces to take root.
So the development was first channeled into existing illegal fishing and logging operations.
It wasn't that Joseon people were particularly immoral.
If honest trading could still be deemed illegal by those in power at any moment, then sticking to already illegal (and more profitable) ventures made sense. Much like 21st-century Yalu River smugglers who, since smuggling South Korean movies already meant execution, might as well import drugs too.
That simplified things considerably.
There were plenty of targets even within Joseon.
Due to centuries of tribute road policies, various islands still brimmed with untapped resources, and invasions of them were now happening on a far larger scale than in original history.
Ulsanbu sea measurer Choi Itdol glanced upward cautiously.
"The wind isn't bad, but..."
He then turned to the ship owner, Lee Man-ok.
Lee Man-ok, whose name fit his imposing frame, thrust out his chin with broad shoulders and a bushy beard on display, as if to say, "Speak if you have something to say."
Choi Itdol spoke carefully.
"The eastern sea is so stormy that once we reach Ulleungdo, who knows what might happen. We could be stuck there for days in bad weather. That's why even the officials don't go out this season. It's hard enough to launch a fleet this big, and if we're holed up on the island for half a month or a full one and the government troops show up, what then?"
The blow Choi Itdol expected landed. Lee Man-ok smacked the back of his head with a pot-lid-sized hand.
"You idiot. We're sailing now because it's the season when the officials don't come. And government troops? All the naval garrisons are smashed to bits—what troops? Even if there are some, one look at these five big ships and they'll pretend not to see us."
He had a point.
Five large ships capable of carrying a thousand seok of rice each, plus essential support boats and ferries, made fourteen vessels in total.
The Joseon navy, which had shifted to coastal patrols after the Jurchens' complete domination of China and the stability of the Tokugawa shogunate, rarely had experience handling a fleet this size.
And contrary to Choi Itdol's words, they weren't unprepared. They had clear policies for if things went south.
Strip away the scale, and this kind of voyage had plenty of precedents in Joseon. Naturally, well-tested policies had been established long ago.
So Lee Man-ok wasn't too worried this time either.
With the physical might of fourteen ships and some kickbacks to go around, the officials would look the other way.
"Quit yapping and look after that Japanese interpreter you brought. He's been whining every time the ship rocks since we launched—I barely held back from tossing him overboard a few times. Go tell him we'll be dropping anchor soon."
"Y-yes, sir."
The Ulleungdo coastal guards, who usually dealt with Japanese illegal fishers, brought interpreters from places like the Japanese trading posts.
And like soldiers, Joseon's interpreters didn't just serve official duties. The one they'd brought this time was eagerly moonlighting to promote trade between Joseon and Japan.
At this point, you could almost believe they were coastal guards themselves.
However, it wasn't just these civilian adventurers who had evolved under Kim Unhaeng's graces.
Perhaps due to the navy's collapse, several ships were loitering around Ulleungdo, all thinking alike.
But they fled at the sight of Lee Man-ok's fleet. They must have mistaken them for government ships. Given that most of the ships were originally government property, it was understandable.
Having lost three small ships en route, Lee Man-ok's now eleven-vessel fleet boldly landed on Ulleungdo.
Most headed off to cut bamboo or procure timber, while the rest split into small groups to catch pufferfish or gather abalone and seaweed.
All resources that required state permits on the mainland.
This was a major reason why Joseon's fisheries had nearly collapsed after 500 years. Unable to properly control them, the government's suffocatingly strict laws only created profit for local functionaries and magistrates—Joseon's signature "precise administration."
Coastal officials monopolized these marine resources and supplied them expensively inland. Even if roads and carts were improved as the Silhak scholars advocated, without solving this, distribution bottlenecks would persist.
And most Joseon fishermen were smarter than the Silhak scholars in their own field.
Innovations in distribution? Not important. What mattered for improving marine resource flow and developing Joseon fisheries was evading oversight.
Joseon couldn't monitor every physical item, but they usually got caught at the selling stage.
So they decided not to sell their haul in Joseon at all.
They discovered their interests aligned with Japanese fishermen, who always feared Joseon's coastal guards.
Japanese fishers wanted to fish around Ulleungdo too, but their position made it inherently riskier than for Joseonites.
And that risk grew exponentially the longer they stayed in the area.
So if someone else caught the fish for them and they just bought and returned to Japan, the profits might dip a bit, but they'd dodge far greater risks.
On top of that, the timber handed over by the Joseonites here was a lucrative trade good.
Japanese loggers faced the same exploitation by samurai or lords. The difference? In "moral" Joseon, it was blatantly illegal; in "amoral" Japan, it was legal.
Lee Man-ok was a veteran who'd been to Ulleungdo four times already. He'd sealed the deal on a previous trip.
Moreover, one of the fishermen had proposed even more profitable smuggling deals with high-ranking Tsushima officials if they kept their word.
In Joseon, a mere sea measurer like him wouldn't have official connections.
But Lee Man-ok showed international savvy.
He'd heard Japan was a land where swordsmen and monks held governorships and high posts—a nation of outcasts—which rang true. The Tsushima lord could well be from a butcher or fisher clan.
The fisher's talk of using courtesans or brokers sneaking into Cheoryang Trading Post sounded plausible too.
So this deal couldn't fail.
Lee Man-ok, pleased with the smooth voyage (losing only three ships counted as smooth), barked orders at his subordinates.
"The Japanese will arrive in ten days to half a month. We're meeting at Usando, so head there then for the handoff."
And the Japanese kept their promise.
They approached as far as where the 21st-century Dokdo guards would have fired warning shots. The Joseonites welcomed them warmly.
It was a scene that would enrage any modern Korean.
And though not a modern Korean, Mulsong Thousand Commander Han Jungnyang felt much the same.
Having dispatched his men disguised as ordinary illegal fishers to monitor Lee Man-ok's movements, Han Jungnyang realized the moment he'd awaited had arrived when he heard they'd all sailed toward unremarkable Usando.
When the Mulsong Marines, stationed north of Ulleungdo to avoid detection, circled the island and appeared at the trade site, the Japanese felt the shadow of doom in their genes.
The blood-sworn enemy that had inflicted indelible wounds during the Imjin War: the Joseon navy.
"Wh-why did you bring the government troops?!"
Interpreter Lee Yuwon shouted desperately. It was hard to tell if it was the noisy Japanese or himself.
Lee Man-ok scowled.
"If you have eyes, you know there were no troops behind us. They must have been waiting here already."
If they'd been a proper army, they wouldn't have made this mistake. Scouting is basic to any advance.
But these "efficient civilians" had been too busy satisfying their greed with the "work" at hand.
Lee Man-ok didn't realize it. So he committed the same blunder as a 21st-century radical libertarian.
"Looks like only seven or eight ships. Hoist the sails, put on a show of force, and charge! Tell the Japanese to fight too!"
"F-fight the government troops?"
Choi Itdol shrieked back, and Lee Man-ok finally kicked him hard.
"You moron. What if they escape? Unless you flee to the eight provinces of Joseon or barbarian lands, you have to bury them all! If they were open to reason, they'd have shown up swaggering when we landed. Coming now means no mercy!"
His situational analysis was spot-on. Han Jungnyang had no interest in "petty" bribes.
Where Lee Man-ok failed was in assessing the forces.
Intoxicated by numerical superiority, he'd overlooked one thing.
The Joseon military was invincible against its own citizens.
And as proven during the Japanese invasions, the Joseon navy was invincible against Japanese too (Won Gyun doesn't count; he was with the Japanese army).
Moreover, the remnants of the navy hadn't all gone to private merchants. The Liberation Vanguard had absorbed plenty.
Sane people, even seeking new jobs, preferred the (seemingly) public marines.
It's obvious which is more upright: joining a drug cartel or a government guard post after military discharge.
The battle concluded before sunset that day.
To add, it was fierce enough to be recorded in East Asian naval history.
Both sides had reason to leave no survivors.
After King Yeongjo's abdication uproar, the court was in a lull, avoiding open sniping between the Noron and Soron factions.
As a result, even the Office of Inspectors wasn't too busy. Judging by the last year's sixth-month and twelfth-month personnel recommendations, I might transfer to the Ministry of the Treasury or Rites soon, so I wasn't keen on working hard either.
Thus, I was lounging at home on a spring holiday.
Uncharacteristic for a Qingyao position that often meant no days off, but that's how end-of-career postings go.
I'd dumped night duties on the juniors. Was I some duty officer or New Year's temp? A rank-4 capital official?
I lounged in my room pretending to read, reactivating "Guan Yu's Patience."
During my last time with Se-hwa, I'd realized one application of this skill.
This patience didn't just numb pain; it could suppress touch and even all senses broadly.
Up to that point, it'd only be useful under torture or pleasing a partner in bed (thinking about it, both appeal to the crown prince. Time for Naked Chinese History Vol. 3 soon).
But what if I reversed it, like turning an amp dial backward?
To put it simply, if activating the skill is like throwing a punch, this was pulling the arm back.
My hunch was right. Senses sharpened—"as sensitive as Guan Yu's temper."
That night, I tested it, and after a few failures, I felt sensations unknown in past or present lives. Of course, in healthy relations, it doesn't end when I do, so no overusing.
Anyway, minor detail. After more tests, I sensed the skill's infinite potential.
For instance, sitting in my room, I could tell who was talking to Jangbok at the door.
'Oh, isn't that Teacher Siknidang?'
'Yes. Is Dog-Beating Stick here?'
'Perfect timing. Shall I announce you?'
'Please. It's cold, so hurry.'
'Heh, you look rosy and bundled up—must've made a fortune. What's cold?'
'You rascal. Here, drink on me.'
'I'll fetch him right away. Come warm by the fire till the young madam readies herself. Secret from her.'
'Naturally.'
The noise hurt my ears, so I deactivated the skill.
Plenty to scold Jangbok with later. The nerve—leveraging his master's prestige for kickbacks? A clean official doesn't tolerate subordinates' overreach.
Lee Jaemun entered soon after, honorably not mentioning Jangbok. Instead, another matter.
"We sent collectors to Kim Gwisuk, the Ulsan backer who borrowed from Samhwado, but he says he can't repay."
Normally, Se-hwa's report. Or Lee Jaemun would've roughed up the insolent debtor and just brought results.
So I waited for the follow-up.
"Heard the story: the ship to Ulleungdo was seized by troops, losing crew wages and rental fees—he's on the brink of ruin."
I knew what happened.
From my successor at the Ministry of Military Affairs, Sim Hwanji's report.
Mulsong Thousand Commander Han Jungnyang had "crushed the illicit band colluding with Japanese pirates" on Ulleungdo.
Yeongjo was thrilled. Han's tribute (probably 80% pocketed) bolstered the equalization agency, and it let them boast the Liberation Vanguard's achievements everywhere.
I wasn't about to cling to principal and go bust like a stock investor.
The loans there weren't small, but Samhwado wasn't nationwide yet—Gyeongsang was just a test.
If results sucked, cut losses fast. Like King Seonjo fleeing the capital in 48 hours after Sinrip's defeat at Tan gold post.
"Talking to the military for ships and men back is tough. Involves the Justice Ministry—too big. Burn the IOUs for Kim Gwisuk's loans. Avoid suspicion splashing us, and win favor with Gyeongsang elites as a bonus."
Lee Jaemun nodded.
"Same thought. But I visited especially for something else."
"Something else?"
"Yes. Han Jungnyang interrogated the owners and passengers and dug up Kim Gwisuk too. Probably knows we loaned via Samhwado. Being from Seoul, he knew the owner—sent lavish gifts via me for you. Doesn't cover the loan, but compensates well."
I was quite surprised.
And the next moment, more so.
My fourth objective popped.
[The Fourth Essential Objective has been activated.]
Essential Objective: Acquire 10 or more red inkstones, the specialty product of Akamagaseki. Transactions through the Japanese trading post are not recognized (Hidden sub-objective: 1).
Author's Note
1. Mulsong Thousand Commander Han Jungnyang from the previous and this chapter did hold the actual position at the time, but there's no record of him having the ambitions or achievements depicted. Please view him as a fictionalized character.
Interpreter Lee Yuwon also participated in coastal duties about 10 years later in the story's timeline and had no crime ties originally, but interpreters taking bribes for smuggling were common then. Like Chinese interpreters.
2. In the Yeongjo/Jeongjo era, it wasn't minor civilian deviations—large-scale capital-backed illegal fishing and logging thrived near Ulleungdo. Mostly timber imports.
Jeongjo-era records mention a backer named Kim Nangcheong funding a fleet that cost 1,000 nyang just in labor—a massive operation. Kim Nangcheong is likely not a real name but a low-ranking Kim clan official, similar to current Kim Unhaeng. Records exist of three-ship fleets (including thousand-seok largeships) loaded with timber, suggesting a full industry.
3. Akamagaseki is modern Shimonoseki. Joseon envoys' first port of call and the hub of Joseon-Japan trade then.