A Poisoned Apple for the Sage King
"..."
A heavy silence hung over the Pyeonjeon for a long moment. King Sejong looked back and forth between the documents and me.
An infinite source of funding that could free him from the constant nagging of ministers who dragged their feet at every turn claiming the state coffers were empty—a treasury that would allow him to build the glorious Joseon of his dreams. It had just fallen right into his lap.
If he simply handed the merchant group's assets over to the Ministry of Taxation tomorrow morning in accordance with state law, Sejong would have to return to that tedious, grueling cycle of persuasion. He would once again have to sit his fastidious ministers down in royal audiences, bickering day and night just to squeeze out a meager budget.
On the other hand, if he grasped this sweet, illicit wealth laid out before him... he wouldn't need to engage in exhausting power struggles with his subjects. He could begin shaping the magnificent Joseon he had envisioned his entire life as early as tomorrow. To him, this was a devil's temptation that was utterly impossible to refuse—and yet, it was also the ultimate loyal counsel.
"Ha, haha..."
A dry chuckle escaped Sejong's lips. It soon swelled into an uncontrollable, booming laugh that echoed loudly through the late-night quiet of the Pyeonjeon.
"Hahaha! You truly are a madman. To dare suggest such a thing to me, the sovereign of this nation...! And to say I can take it or leave it? How utterly audacious and wicked!"
It was the exact moment suspicion and anger transformed into pure exhilaration. Sejong gripped the side contract and the ledger tightly, his eyes flashing with a tiger-like ferocity.
"And yet..."
The laughter gradually faded from Sejong's face, replaced by a sharp, penetrating gaze filled with the profound insight unique to a supreme ruler. "You fearlessly laid out such a massive board against the sovereign of this land, and willingly offered up this immense profit? What is it that you truly desire?"
At the King's direct question, the corners of my mouth curled upward. What do I want? The image of young Han Myeong-hoe's glittering eyes, looking up at me through the thick sea fog of Mapo Wharf last night, flashed through my mind.
The history of Joseon was already written. Once Sejong passed away, a bloodbath would ensue. Since I had no idea how to return to modern South Korea, simply holding a decent government office and hoarding wealth wouldn't be enough to survive the invisible, colossal storm ahead. I needed the grandest, most overwhelming sanctuary to protect me completely—even if it meant rewriting history itself.
Slowly, I prostrated myself on the floor before the throne, whispering in a low, clear voice to the sovereign.
"I wish to witness the completion of the most glorious Joseon of Your Majesty's dreams... with my own two eyes, from the closest vantage point possible."
"..."
Sejong rested his chin on his hand, staring down at the crown of my head for a long time as if trying to pierce right through it. The sovereign's gaze seemed to penetrate every corner of my irreverent mind, yet at the same time, he appeared to find this dangerous answer strangely intriguing.
Only then, under that massive and brilliant shadow, will my own coffers grow to be the safest and heaviest in all of Joseon.
"..."
I did not shrink from his sharp, calculating gaze, meeting it head-on.
"...You insolent rascal. I know full well those are empty, flattering words, yet they are strangely enticing." Sejong let out a dry laugh and straightened his posture.
"Then, allow me to offer one more enticing proposal, Your Majesty. Please open the very last page of the ledger I have just presented."
Sejong furrowed his brow and opened the secret ledger on the table.
"This is the record of how the copper embezzled from Mapo Wharf was laundered into silver. However, does it not strike you as odd that the final destination of that vast sum of silver is conspicuously blank?"
At my words, Sejong's gaze locked onto the bottom of the ledger. The transaction figures and itemized lists were recorded with flawless precision, but the name and title of the final recipient had been cleverly obscured.
"Low-ranking military officers of the Office of Military Weapons would never have the audacity to embezzle the state's copper and keep it all for themselves. This means there is a mastermind—the real head of the beast—who has cut off the ledger's tail and holds the purse strings."
"...You are saying the upper echelons of the Ministry of Military Affairs are involved."
"Yes, Your Majesty. They will undoubtedly try to sever their ties and slip away."
Lowering my voice even further, I finally presented what I truly wanted.
"Therefore, Your Majesty, grant me the justification and the sword."
"A sword, you say? Have I not already granted you special auditing authority and a royal medallion? Do you covet a concurrent appointment as the Inspector General of the Saheonbu?"
"No, Your Majesty," I replied, meeting Sejong's eyes directly. "With temporary authority that forces me to hide behind Your Majesty and move in the shadows whenever an incident occurs, or with the limited jurisdiction of the Ministry of Taxation, we cannot fully capture those old foxes who cut their tails and flee."
"Then what do you propose?"
"Grant me an independent, temporary investigative agency, completely separate from the Saheonbu or the Uigeumbu, whose sole purpose is to relentlessly track and recover hidden state assets."
At my provocative proposal, Sejong, who had been leaning back against his throne, arched an eyebrow in intrigue.
"A temporary agency... You mean you want me to establish a Dogam?"
"Indeed, Your Majesty."
"Did I not already promise to grant you the authority of asset recovery? Why must you insist on hanging a separate shingle when we already have the Ministry of Taxation and the Saheonbu?"
To Sejong's sharp inquiry, I answered without a moment's hesitation.
"The inspectors of the Saheonbu and the officers of the Uigeumbu may be well-versed in the Four Books and Five Classics, the Great Ming Code, and the Six Codes of Governance, but they lack the eyes to pierce through double-entry bookkeeping and the flow of cleverly laundered silver."
"..."
"The officials of the Ministry of Taxation are no different. Steeped in outdated customs, they tremble and drop their brushes at the mere mention of a powerful family's name."
Sejong let out a dry laugh and tapped the table lightly.
"To receive absolutely no interference from existing departments... How audacious. Then, what would you name this Dogam?"
Looking Sejong straight in the eye, I clearly enunciated the name of the Joseon equivalent of the National Tax Service's Investigation Bureau 4, which I had already mapped out in my mind.
"How about the Office of Asset Recovery?"
"Asset recovery..."
"The character Chu meaning to pursue, and Jing meaning to collect. It signifies that we will pursue embezzlers to the ends of the earth and retrieve what belongs to the state treasury, no matter what."
Sejong stroked his beard. A look of intense calculation flashed in the King's eyes as he weighed my proposal. Tapping his fingers lightly against the table, he spoke in a low voice.
"Even when I established a single Land Valuation Office to discuss the Gongbeop, the court split in half and fought a bloody political battle. Yet you wish to establish an independent agency to dig into the finances of the ministers of the Six Ministries and audit their ledgers? The Saheonbu and the Office of Censors will swarm you like a pack of wolves to tear you apart alive. Can you truly handle the backlash?"
Even in the face of the King's warning, I calmly curled my lips.
"If they did not covet the state treasury in the first place, they would have nothing to fear."
Bowing my head without a trace of hesitation, I drove the final nail in.
"Haha! There is no man alive who is entirely free of dust when shaken, yet you intend to completely wipe out the court ministers!"
Sejong burst into a hearty laugh and stood up straight.
From outside the firmly shut doors of the Pyeonjeon, the cautious voice of a eunuch echoed.
"Your Majesty, the prisoners have been brought to the courtyard of the Uigeumbu, and all preparations for the royal interrogation are complete."
It seemed the preparations to interrogate the bastards from the Office of Military Weapons were finished. I feigned surprise and asked,
"A royal interrogation...? Does Your Majesty intend to personally grace the interrogation grounds?"
"Naturally. I must go and hear with my own two ears exactly who stands behind this incident." Sejong stood up, his dragon robe's sleeves fluttering sharply. "After that, I shall give you my answer regarding the Office of Asset Recovery you desire."
Dawn broke over the palace. From the early hours of the morning, a bone-chilling cold hung over the interrogation courtyard of the Uigeumbu.
"Prepare the torture chairs and light the braziers!"
"Yes, sir!"
Along with the thunderous responses of the guards, terrifying branding irons began to heat up over the glowing red charcoal. The military officers of the Office of Military Weapons and the thugs captured at Mapo Wharf last night were kneeling in the center of the courtyard, bound tightly with ropes.
Surrounding them, the ministers of the Six Ministries and the inspectors, who had rushed over at the sudden news of a late-night interrogation, stood in rigid lines with grim expressions.
I looked down at the entire scene from a secret room behind a bamboo blind in the pavilion overlooking the courtyard. Beside me stood the sovereign of Joseon, King Sejong, watching the yard with his arms crossed and a heavy, somber gaze.
"I must see with my own eyes what kind of backing those bastards have that makes them keep their mouths so tightly shut." Since the King had given his quiet command, there was no reason for me, an official from another ministry, to step down into the courtyard just yet.
Soon, the investigator of the Uigeumbu stepped right up to their faces.
"You wretched scoundrels! How dare you raid His Majesty's military storehouse and embezzle twenty thousand catties of copper! Who is your mastermind?"
Under the searing heat that felt as if it would melt their flesh, the shoulders of the leader trembled like an aspen leaf. Just as the investigator's fierce shouting and the branding iron drew close to his chin—
"Will you not speak?! Men, twist his legs—!"
Crack!
A sickening sound of tearing flesh and crushing bone echoed across the courtyard.
"C-cough...! Argh...!"
The man collapsed forward, dark red blood erupting from his mouth like a fountain.
"Pry his mouth open and stop the bleeding! Gag them so they cannot commit suicide!"
The interrogation courtyard fell into utter chaos. The military officer who had bitten off his own tongue thrashed on the muddy ground, vomiting blood like a dying beast, while the flustered guards scrambled to force wooden gags into the mouths of the other prisoners.
From behind the bamboo blind of the pavilion, I looked down at the pathetic farce with cold, dry eyes.
Biting off his own tongue to sever the tail.
It was a tear-inducing display of loyalty, but to me, it was nothing more than the foolish barbarism of a bygone era. What a naive notion, believing that silencing a mouth would erase all traces.
I turned my head to look at the sovereign standing beside me. Sejong did not even twitch an eyebrow at the gruesome sight in the courtyard. Instead, as if he had grown bored of the commotion, he glanced down at me and gave a slight nod of his chin.
You set the stage, now clean it up.
It was an unmistakable signal. I bowed quietly in respect, then turned toward the pavilion stairs.
Creak.
The side door of the pavilion opened, and the moment my foot touched the stairs, the air of the courtyard—which had been filled with screams and shouting—instantly froze to an eerie degree.
The eyes of the ministers of the Six Ministries and the inspectors, who had been staring in horror at the self-mutilated prisoner, all snapped toward me as if on cue.
Why is the Assistant Minister of Taxation walking out of the private chamber where His Majesty is staying?
A deep sense of bewilderment and wariness crossed the faces of the ministers and high officials. I swept my gaze over the lined-up ministers, swallowing a cold sneer. The real mastermind is hiding somewhere among that crowd.
Ignoring the barrage of stares, I walked slowly and leisurely across the center of the courtyard.
[Next Chapter] I Need Two More Lifetimes