The Office of Asset Recovery

"Ah, of course, if we calculate it based on your current stipend, you would need to live at least two more lifetimes to pay it off."

At my words, the last remaining trace of color drained completely from Jo Mal-saeng's face. I offered a radiant, blinding smile to the trembling man.

"Your Majesty! Please sentence this heinous criminal to immediate execution!"

"Even after being pardoned for his past bribery through Your Majesty's boundless grace, he has once again committed high treason by plundering the state treasury! Seize all his household assets immediately!"

"Exterminate his entire clan to restore state discipline, Your Majesty!"

Led by the officials of the Saheonbu (Office of the Inspector General) and the Saganwon, Jo Mal-saeng's political rivals—who had long been suppressed under his shadow—scrambled to prostrate themselves on the ground, raising their voices in unison.

"Execute him, Your Majesty!"

"Order his execution at once!"

Clamor erupted from all sides. At this moment, the royal court was nothing more than a hunting ground teeming with hyenas eager to tear him apart. I looked down at Jo Mal-saeng, my hands casually clasped behind my back.

Go on, make your choice.

Would he allow all his wealth to be stripped away and be ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠thrown to these wolves as prey? Or would he snap up my offer and live the rest of his days shackled by an eternal debt? There was no way a master politician of his caliber couldn't calculate the grim reality of this situation.

"Urgh, ugh...!"

Jo Mal-saeng's trembling shoulders finally collapsed. Piercing through the storm of demands for his execution, he slowly, with utter humiliation, slammed his forehead against the dirt floor of the interrogation courtyard and let out a beast-like groan.

"Your... Your Majesty...! This subject... this subject will grind his bones to dust to repay every single coin owed to the state treasury...! Please, I beg of you, do not accept this old man's resignation...!"

Jo Mal-saeng had surrendered. Yet, even as his submission was declared, the roar of the ministers threatened to swallow the interrogation courtyard whole. It was then.

"Your Majesty. I, your servant Hwang Hui, beg leave to speak."

A low, heavy voice instantly froze the boiling courtyard. From the very front line of the assembled civil and military officials, Chief State Councillor Hwang Hui slowly stepped forward.

Bowing deeply to show his respect to King Sejong, Hwang Hui did not spare a single glance for the raging ministers behind him. Keeping his eyes fixed solely on the sovereign, he spoke quietly.

"Your Majesty. While the loyalty of the censors in demanding punishment according to the law is entirely just, I find it deeply lamentable that they seem to have forgotten exactly who this prostrate sinner is."

"..."

"Your Majesty. Jo Mal-saeng is an old servant of the state who passed the civil service examination with the highest honors in the first year of the late King Taejong's reign. He served in the Royal Secretariat for seven long years, basking in the late King's absolute favor. Did not the late King personally bestow upon him the Senior First Rank of Jeongdeok Daebu—an honor usually reserved for royal sons-in-law—and declare that he would 'surely be used as a great minister of this nation'?"

The moment the late King's legacy and final wishes were invoked, a silence as cold as ice ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠washed over the courtyard, which had been boiling with demands for execution just moments before. In this land of Joseon, no justification could ever supersede the late King and the virtue of filial piety.

Hwang Hui cast a heavy, piercing gaze at the thoroughly subdued censors before continuing.

"Furthermore, is not this man's eldest son the husband of Your Majesty's own sister, Princess Jeongjeong? How can we treat an in-law of the royal family as if he were a common traitor?"

Hwang Hui's voice was infinitely polite, but the logic within it was razor-sharp.

"Your Majesty. Would you personally execute an old servant cherished by the late King, thereby committing an indelible act of impiety against your father's memory? Moreover, do you intend to bring ruin upon the in-laws of your younger sister—a union blessed by the late King himself—and force the Princess to weep tears of blood?"

"...!"

The ministers who had been screaming for execution just moments ago turned pale and fell flat on their faces, suddenly mute. Filial piety and sibling devotion. No matter how much they championed the law, the moment they crossed the late King's legacy and royal blood ties in Joseon, the arrows of political ruin would inevitably fly back to pierce them.

Hwang Hui bowed deeply once more, delivering his final stroke.

"Therefore, Your Majesty, though the Assistant Minister of Taxation's calculations are highly unusual and severe, they present the most perfect solution to resolve this dilemma. Spare the sinner's life to fulfill your filial duty to the late King and preserve your devotion to the Princess. In return, force his old body to labor in state affairs until it breaks, ensuring he repays his massive debt and upholds the solemn dignity of state law."

To King Sejong, who had been caught in a dilemma by the fierce impeachments of the censors, Hwang Hui—the greatest political titan of Joseon—had handed the most perfect and unassailable justification.

In truth, that was the very answer the King wanted from the start.

I swallowed a brief, silent chuckle.

Even in actual history, King Sejong never executed Jo Mal-saeng, despite his history of taking bribes and draining the state treasury. Nor did he ever grant him the position of State Councillor. He simply worked him to the bone, shuttling him between the northern borders and the Ministry of Military Affairs until his old bones rotted, exploiting his labor until the day he died.

I saw a deep sense of satisfaction flicker across the young King's lips. Pretending to be lost in profound contemplation, King Sejong cleared his throat heavily, covering his mouth with the wide sleeve of his royal robe.

"Ahem, cough!"

It was an incredibly artificial cough, meant to suppress the corners of his mouth twitching upward behind his sleeve.

"The Chief State Councillor's words... are indeed just."

King Sejong slowly lowered his sleeve. The satisfaction of getting exactly what he wanted had vanished from his face, replaced entirely by the solemn grief of a monarch making a heart-wrenching decision.

"Your Majesty! You must not!"

The censors protested, their voices filled with desperate anguish, but King Sejong raised a firm hand to silence them.

"How could we disregard the late King's legacy and draw tears of blood from our own sister's eyes? Though the sins of the criminal Jo Mal-saeng deserve death, his life shall be spared for the sake of the greater good."

"Your Majesty...!"

Jo Mal-saeng's shoulders trembled violently, caught between immense relief and agonizing humiliation. But King Sejong's true punishment was only just beginning. The sovereign's voice struck the courtyard like a thunderbolt.

"Jo Mal-saeng, hear us clearly. We shall never accept your resignation. You do not even possess the right to strip off your official robes and retire to the countryside in peace!"

"..."

"Until the day your bones rot to dust and your breath ceases, until the massive sum calculated by the Assistant Minister is fully repaid to the state treasury, the Ministry of Taxation shall seize every single coin of your stipend without exception. Furthermore, if you fail to clear this debt before your breath leaves you, the remaining liability shall be passed down to your family and children through guilt by association!"

From between the lips of Jo Mal-saeng, whose forehead was still pressed hard against the muddy ground, a hoarse voice finally leaked out, thick with resignation and despair.

"Your... Your Majesty's grace... is boundless..."

I walked past the prostrate Jo Mal-saeng and turned my gaze toward Chief State Councillor Hwang Hui, who stood at the very front of the officials. With his eyes gently downcast, his face was perfectly serene, as if this chaotic storm had absolutely nothing to do with him.

To think Hwang Hui would step in.

Was it to save Jo Mal-saeng? Not a chance. There was no way that clever old fox would move out of simple sympathy in a blood-soaked political arena. The reason was obvious.

Having served the King for decades, the nation's foremost minister had perfectly read what his sovereign desired most deep down and fed him the exact justification he craved. And the sovereign on the throne, having gladly swallowed that sweet justification, had absolutely no intention of letting the matter end here.

"Ministers, listen well."

King Sejong's voice suddenly boomed across the courtyard. The shoulders of the ministers, who had just begun to breathe a sigh of relief, instantly tensed and froze.

"A minister of the Senior Second Rank dared to embezzle tens of thousands of catties of copper from the state treasury. While he colluded with a merchant group to manipulate such vast sums of wealth, what in heaven's name were the Saheonbu and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Uigeumbu (State Tribunal) doing?"

"Y-Your Majesty! It is our grave oversight!"

The Inspector General of the Saheonbu and the Magistrate of the Uigeumbu turned pale and threw themselves flat on the ground.

"Therefore, as of this moment, we shall enact extraordinary measures to restore the discipline of our state."

King Sejong's sharp gaze swept over the prostrate officials before finally locking onto me.

"Assistant Minister of Taxation Kim Jinseong, hear our command."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"We hereby grant you absolute authority over the Chujing Dogam (Office of Asset Recovery), an independent, temporary government agency that shall operate entirely free from the interference of the Saheonbu and the Uigeumbu, tasked solely with tracking down and recovering embezzled state funds and evaded taxes!"

"...!"

A suffocating silence instantly descended upon the courtyard. An independent, unilateral investigative agency free from the checks of existing departments—under normal circumstances, the censors would have swarmed like hornets to protest to the death.

But the situation was different now. Had they not just witnessed the veteran minister, Jo Mal-saeng, stripped of his very soul right before their eyes? Moreover, there were those ledgers of the Daedong Merchant Group held in the Assistant Minister's hands. Could the massive crumbs of wealth Jo Mal-saeng had been rolling around possibly have gone into his mouth alone?

Not a single Minister or censor prostrate in this courtyard could confidently claim to be entirely innocent. It was the perfect timing, where no one ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dared to cry out, "You cannot do this!" King Sejong had seized that exact opening to unsheathe the sharpest blade he had been holding back.

"We appoint you as the Jejo (Commissioner) of the Chujing Dogam. You must recover every single penny of embezzled state assets without leaving a trace behind."

The moment the royal decree fell, the faces of the high-ranking officials prostrate on the ground turned the color of ash.

It was an unprecedented, shocking appointment—elevating an Assistant Minister of mere Senior Third Rank to the position of Jejo, a post typically held by minister-level officials. Furthermore, the position of Dojejo (Director-General), which should have been filled to oversee him, was left entirely vacant. This was nothing short of a declaration that this new investigative agency would answer to no elderly State Councillors, reporting directly to the King alone while being given free rein to tear the ministers apart.

I swept my gaze over the ministers looking up at me in sheer horror. Then, turning toward the sovereign behind the beaded curtain, I bowed calmly and respectfully.

"I shall obey your command, Your Majesty."

There was no need for grand oaths of loyalty. A simple, plain response was the starting gun announcing the birth of Joseon's very own National Tax Service Investigation Bureau 4—an entity that would bleed the corrupt officials of the eight provinces dry.

The shadow behind the beaded curtain receded, and the eunuchs and royal guards followed in the sovereign's wake. Only when the majestic presence of the King had completely vanished did the suffocating tension in the interrogation courtyard finally dissipate.

"Take the prisoners to the dungeon!"

The Uigeumbu guards roughly dragged away the blood-soaked bastards of the Gungigam (Office of Military Weapons), and the Ministers of the Six Ministries and the censors quickly hurried their steps. Terrified that they might catch my eye and be marked as the next target, they kept their heads low, avoiding my gaze entirely as they swept out of the courtyard like an ebbing tide.

Amidst that chaotic scramble, Jo Mal-saeng, barely pushing himself up on trembling legs, slowly turned his head to look at me. All the arrogance of a powerful man had been stripped away; his bloodshot eyes burned with a vicious, venomous malice that screamed of his desire to tear me limb from limb.

I offered him a relaxed, polite nod. Jo Mal-saeng bit his lip so hard it nearly bled, his hands shaking violently as he limped away toward the palace gates.

In an instant, the vast courtyard was empty. I was just about to prepare to leave as well.

"The Chujing Dogam. A fascinating move you've played, Assistant Minister. Or should I call you Commissioner now?"

A relaxed, low voice sounded from behind me. Turning around, I saw Chief State Councillor Hwang Hui standing alone in the middle of the deserted courtyard, his hands clasped behind his back, watching me.