Rising to the Rank of Dangsang-gwan

"If Your ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Majesty grants me absolute authority, I will seize every inch of hidden land that those corrupt, powerful clans have deliberately omitted from the registries to evade taxes, and secure the entire budget for the northern expansion."

The air inside the Sajeongjeon froze instantly. I could see the hands of the royal guards standing around me—ostensibly to protect me, but in reality to watch me—tightening on their hilts. A mere low-ranking official prostrated before the throne had just declared he would seize the ruling elite by their throats. It was a statement audacious enough to warrant immediate execution on the spot.

Yet, the reaction of King Sejong, seated upon the throne, was entirely different.

"..."

The thirty-seven-year-old monarch stared intensely at me with sharp, piercing eyes. After a long silence, he stroked his beard and murmured softly.

"Hidden land, you say. I, too, am well aware that the reason the ministers of the Gwanhak Faction have opposed my tax reforms for years without reaching a consensus is their fear that their own concealed lands and fortunes will be brought to light."

King Sejong leaned forward.

"However, they are not easy targets. They are old foxes who slip through even the audits of the Saheonbu. By what method do you intend to seize their hidden wealth?"

"If we fight them with swords or moral justifications, we will lose a hundred battles out of a hundred, Your Majesty."

"Then how?"

I began to brief him on the tax audit process I had mapped out in my mind.

"No matter how deeply they hide their land or conceal their slaves, the rice and silk produced there must eventually flow into the market to be liquidated. By reverse-tracking the distribution volume of salt and textiles consumed in Hanyang and cross-referencing them using Western mathematical methods, we can pinpoint the exact locations of the front companies and secret plantations they manage under borrowed names."

As I finished speaking, a heavy silence descended upon the Sajeongjeon. King Sejong closed his eyes, seemingly calculating. As Joseon's greatest genius monarch, he was undoubtedly weighing my mathematical methods against the massive budget they would secure.

"...Heh. Hehehe."

Before long, the corners of King Sejong's lips curled upward into a smirk.

"To hold the ministers by their throats in such a manner! Truly, it is an arrogant yet marvelous concept, befitting one who has mastered the secret arts of the West!"

King Sejong burst into hearty laughter and slapped his knee. To a budget-breaking monarch who had to spend endlessly to lay the foundations of the nation, my proposal must have tasted sweeter than honey.

"Very well. I shall grant you absolute authority. Use the mathematical methods you spoke of to track down all the hidden wealth of the Gwanhak Faction ministers and reclaim it for the state treasury."

"Your grace is immeasurable, Your Majesty."

I prostrated myself as politely as possible, subtly sliding in my core condition.

"However, Your Majesty, I have one humble request."

"Speak."

"Conducting a tax audit... that is, tracking down the hidden wealth of the ministers, is an extremely dangerous and grueling task for which I must risk my life. Therefore, I beg you to grant me a fair commission based on my performance."

"A commission?"

King Sejong's eyes sparkled with amusement. A subject daring to openly demand money before the greatest sage king of Joseon—it was a feat impossible for anyone without nerves of absolute steel.

"Yes, Your Majesty. If I recover the hidden funds, I pray you permit me to retain one-hundredth—one percent—of the total as an audit expense and commission."

The royal guards gasped in sheer horror at my insane audacity to bargain over a royal decree. But King Sejong did not grow angry. Instead, he let out a booming laugh and nodded. After all, this was money that would otherwise never enter the state treasury, wealth that could never even be found. If he could secure ninety-nine percent of the budget by giving away a mere one percent commission, it was, from Sejong's perspective, the absolute best deal imaginable.

"Splendid! It is money I would never have laid eyes on in my lifetime anyway. I gladly grant your request!"

The green light was given. I cheered inwardly. A perfect channel to legally amass immense wealth and build a slush fund had just been opened. At the very least, I wouldn't have to worry about starving to death because of Kim Jinseong's ruined family in this era of Joseon.

"However, your current post is merely a Senior 5th Rank Hojo Jeongrang. With such a low rank, your authority would be far too lacking to dig into the affairs of the State Councillors and Ministers."

At King Sejong's gesture, the Chief Royal Secretary standing nearby brought forward a red royal decree scroll and presented it to me.

"This morning, I dismissed and imprisoned the former Right Assistant Minister of Taxation, Park Inseok, for embezzling copper from the Type Casting Office. Thus, a Senior 3rd Rank Dangsang-gwan position has become vacant."

"..."

"Jeongrang Kim Jinseong. As of today, I appoint you as the Right Assistant Minister of Taxation, a Senior 3rd Rank Dangsang-gwan. Furthermore, I secretly bestow upon you the special auditing authority to track the assets of the Gwanhak Faction ministers."

A ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠meteoric rise from the Senior 5th Rank to a Senior 3rd Rank Dangsang-gwan, earning the right to wear the red official robes and attend the core council meetings of the royal court overnight. The very seat of the direct superior who, just yesterday, had persecuted me and tried to have me executed, was now mine in a single day.

"I shall repay Your Majesty's immense grace even if my bones are ground to dust!"

I accepted the royal decree with both hands and pressed my forehead to the floor with utmost sincerity.

The next morning, the Ministry of Taxation headquarters was in utter chaos.

"He—He's coming!"

"Heavens! It really is the red official robe!"

Just yesterday, I was a miserable Senior 5th Rank Jeongrang locked in a prison cell, awaiting execution. Yet this morning, as I walked into work with my head held high, my body was draped in the vivid red robes of a Senior 3rd Rank Dangsang-gwan, complete with a magnificent embroidered rank patch on my chest. The officials of the Ministry of Taxation parted like the Red Sea, backing away as if they had seen a ghost. With my hands clasped behind my back, I strode without hesitation into the spacious office of the Right Assistant Minister of Taxation—the very room where Park Inseok had sat just yesterday.

"Alright, attention everyone."

The working-level officials and clerks of the Ministry of Taxation gathered in the office swallowed hard, staring at me. I slammed the special auditing decree bestowed by King Sejong onto the desk with a sharp thud.

"Starting today, we have quite a backlog of work to get through."

"Pardon? Lord Assistant Minister, what do you mean by..."

"We're going on a field trip. To shake some people down."

I smiled as I looked out the window. The leader of the faction currently opposing the Gongbeop most fiercely in the royal court was none other than the Senior 1st Rank Chief State Councillor, Lord Hwang Hui. Though history would remember him as a clean-handed, upright official, the Hwang Hui of this era was a shrewd, slippery politician who checked King Sejong's projects and championed the interests of the landowning elite.

Taking down the final boss right away is a rookie move. If I ruin the Chief State Councillor now, who will I have left to squeeze later?

My goal was not to have Hwang Hui dismissed. It was to uncover his fatal weakness—his family's corruption—and use it as leverage. To force his political submission, I first had to choke off their financial lifeline.

"Now, listen carefully. Our target is the secret lands of the Chief State Councillor's family hidden throughout the Chungcheong Province."

At my words, the clerks of the Ministry of Taxation gaped in sheer horror. To dig into the affairs of the Chief State Councillor, the pinnacle of power in Joseon—their new superior was utterly, undeniably insane. Yet, before the Dangsang-gwan rank patch embroidered on my chest and the royal decree issued by King Sejong himself, no one dared to utter a word of protest.

"Bring me all the logistics ledgers from Chungcheong Province over the last three years, as well as the records of salt and textile shipments sent from Hanyang to Chungcheong."

To feed and clothe thousands of slaves on hidden lands omitted from the registries to evade taxes, a massive amount of salt and fabric was absolutely essential. By reverse-tracking this distribution volume, we could pinpoint the exact locations of their front merchant groups and secret farms.

Groaning under the weight, the clerks piled hundreds of dusty, handwritten ledgers onto the office floor like a mountain. Soon, the Ministry of Taxation office was filled with nothing but the scratching of brushes and the sharp clack-clack of sangaji—Joseon's counting rods. I paced between them with my hands behind my back, supervising their pathetic attempt at work.

Sigh, this is driving me absolutely insane.

Joseon's accounting was a primitive system that merely listed income and expenses in prose. On top of that, they were manually adding and subtracting everything using wooden counting rods, so it was impossible to make any real progress. At this rate, it would take an entire year just to parse through a single ledger from Chungcheong.

"You there! Why did you sum up the digits like that? Recalculate it!"

"M-My Lord! Forgive me!"

Every time I barked an order, the clerks trembled so violently that ink dripped from their brushes. As I paced around ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the room, sighing in frustration, I reached a corner. My gaze stopped on a young, low-ranking clerk huddled next to a pillar.

"...Huh?"

My footsteps ground to a halt. The yangban class fundamentally despised dealing with numbers, viewing it as a lowly task fit only for merchants. Consequently, these clerks were usually nothing more than copyists who mechanically transcribed ledgers. But this kid was different. He wasn't even using counting rods. He simply stared intently at the complex ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠numbers written in the ledger, casually scribbled the final sum onto a blank sheet of paper, and flipped to the next page.

"You. Come here."

Startled by my call, the boy threw himself flat onto the floor.

"P-Please spare my life, Lord Assistant Minister! If I have done something wrong..."

His eyes, wide with terror, dattered around like those of a cornered stray dog, and his pitifully thin frame trembled like a leaf in the wind. He looked utterly wretched, as if he had spent his entire life rotting in the dusty corners of the Ministry of Taxation.

"That ledger just now—how did you sum it up without even touching the counting rods? If you just guessed, I will have your head for trifling with state affairs."

At my threat, the boy looked on the verge of tears and stammered.

"I-I did not guess, My Lord... It is just that when I look at the ledger, the clusters of numbers seem to merge together in my head, and the answer just pops out on its own..."

I snatched the ledger he had just calculated and quickly ran the numbers in my head to double-check.

...It was exact. A flawless mental calculation without a single margin of error. And to do it at this speed while looking at these convoluted, handwritten Joseon ledgers?

Holy crap, he's a math genius.

During my time at the National Tax Service, I had worked with countless data analysts, but I had never seen anyone with such a natural, instinctive gift for mental arithmetic. I firmly gripped the trembling boy's shoulders.

"What is your name?"

"I-I am called Gaetdong-i, My Lord."

"Gaetdong-i?"

"Yes, yes. Since I am of humble birth..."

Still, what kind of name was "Dog Shit"? I clicked my tongue, cutting him off, and grinned. I had just unearthed Joseon's greatest data analyst, buried deep in the mud.

"Gaetdong-i."

"Yes, My Lord!"

"Starting today, you are my direct assistant."

"...Pardon?! Assistant...?"

"While the yangban look down on numbers to focus on their useless literature, you and I are going to get a real taste of what money can do."

I pressed a brush into his hand and whispered softly.

"We are heading down to Chungcheong Province first thing tomorrow. We're going to seize every single secret ledger and hidden plot of land belonging to the Chief State Councillor's in-laws. Get ready."

Leaving the utterly dazed Gaetdong-i behind, I turned on my heel. It was time to sever the Achilles' heel of Hwang Hui, Joseon's most formidable politician.