Black Corporation: Joseon

February, 24th year of King Sejong’s reign (1442, Year of Imseul)

A sudden storm swept through the Office of Interpreters.

It began with complaints from the Foreign Affairs Ministry officials.

“How is it that the interpreters at the Office of Interpreters are worse at foreign languages than our ministry officials?”

“They’re completely useless!”

These complaints from the working-level officials made their way up to Heo Hu, the newly appointed Minister of Foreign Affairs.

“The interpreters’ qualifications are inadequate?”

“Yes, Your Excellency.”

“Hmm…”

Heo Hu hummed thoughtfully at his vice minister’s response. After a moment’s consideration, he sought further clarification.

“If the interpreters’ qualifications are such an issue, surely there must have been complaints during the previous minister’s tenure?”

“Indeed. We repeatedly raised concerns with the Office of Interpreters then as well.”

“And nothing’s changed?”

“Correct, Your Excellency.”

“Why didn’t Han-jae… Ah, given his personality, he probably just accepted things as they were.”

The vice minister silently nodded at Heo Hu’s observation.

***

Lee Maeng-gyun, who had been responsible for Joseon’s diplomatic affairs since the beginning of the reforms, resigned last year citing his advanced age.

When he first submitted his resignation, King Sejong rejected it. However, given Lee’s deteriorating condition, Sejong had no choice but to eventually accept.

According to news received this year, Lee was now bedridden and living on borrowed time. When Sejong sent royal physicians to examine him, they reported back that there was no hope for recovery.

“He is like a lamp whose wick has burned out and oil has run dry, Your Majesty.”

“This is truly regrettable.”

Sejong muttered with genuine disappointment etched across his face.

While Sejong lamented, Lee Maeng-gyun was actually enjoying a far more peaceful retirement compared to what would have happened without Hyang’s intervention in history.

In the original timeline, Lee’s final years had been quite unfortunate.

In the 22nd year of Sejong’s reign (1440), Lee’s wife had killed a female slave in a fit of jealousy. Lee was dismissed from his position as punishment and exiled to Hwanghae Province. He died while returning home after being pardoned.

However, Hyang’s intervention had altered this course of history. As part of the reforms, many government slaves were freed, including the female slave in question.

Moreover, Lee had been too exhausted from the daily grind of the reforms to give his wife any reason for jealousy.

Finally, thanks to the medicinal supplements circulating among the ministers having some effect, he had managed to hold on for two more years.

***

Heo Hu clicked his tongue as he recalled how Lee Maeng-gyun had been sharp as a blade in diplomatic dealings with Ming and Japan, but rather lackadaisical in other matters.

“Tch! That old fellow… How serious is the situation?”

“Well, they’re saying it’s faster and more accurate to go through Assistant Secretary Shin Sukju than to rely on the interpreters for conversation or translation.”

“This is serious.”

Stroking his beard while muttering, Heo Hu came to a decision.

“I understand. I’ll handle this. On your way out, summon the Director of the Office of Interpreters.”

“Yes, sir.”

Shortly after, Shin Gae, the Director of the Office of Interpreters, arrived at Heo Hu’s office.

“You summoned me, Your Excellency?”

“Indeed. There have been many complaints from below. They say the interpreters’ qualifications are inadequate.”

Shin Gae responded with a troubled expression to Heo Hu’s pointed remark.

“That’s because the interpreters’ morale is quite low…”

“Low morale?”

“Yes. Since the establishment of the Court of Justice, the status of legal officials has improved significantly. However, interpreters are still treated as mere technical officers, which has severely affected their morale. Furthermore, unlike before, they can no longer profit from diplomatic missions, so many experienced interpreters have left to join private merchant groups.”

“But under His Majesty’s reforms, interpreters are actually being treated better as specialized technical officials?”

“While their salaries have increased, they still pale in comparison to the profits they used to make from diplomatic missions.”

“So they quit and left?”

When Heo Hu’s expression turned fierce at this question, Shin Gae hastily responded.

“But the new interpreters who’ve joined since then are dedicated to their duties and satisfied with their treatment! Haven’t they been given opportunities to rise as high as junior officials through their work alone? The current issues stem merely from the new interpreters’ lack of experience!”

Ignoring Shin Gae’s explanation, Heo Hu glared at him before delivering his verdict.

“Prepare a report detailing countermeasures for this situation.”

“Yes, Your Excellency…”

Shin Gae responded with a dejected expression to Heo Hu’s directive. Creating a report meant official documentation, which would eventually make its way up to King Sejong himself.

***

After leaving Heo Hu’s office, Shin Gae stared at the corridor ceiling and let out a long sigh.

“Haaah… Of all times, why did this have to happen during my tenure as Director…”

Lamenting his suddenly pitiful situation, Shin Gae ground his teeth.

“Fine! Let’s all go down together! I won’t die alone!”

At the same moment, Heo Hu in his office muttered something similar.

“I’ll surely catch heat for this, but I won’t go down alone…”

***

Thus, in February of King Sejong’s 24th year, Director Shin Gae’s report reached the king.

• -Currently, the Office of Interpreters lacks personnel truly proficient in Chinese, and even those who are proficient often have pronunciation issues, leaving few interpreters capable of properly handling Ming envoys.

• -Those who have spent months in Ming often demonstrate better skills than those who have worked as interpreters for years at the Office, necessitating corrective measures.

• -To address this, we propose prohibiting the use of Korean within the Office of Interpreters.

• -Those who violate this rule shall be dismissed from their positions.

• -This measure shall apply not only to Chinese but also to Jurchen, Mongol, Japanese, Latin, and other languages.

Shin Gae’s proposal reached King Sejong through Heo Hu.

After reviewing Shin Gae’s proposal, Sejong handed it to Hwang Hui, saying:

“This seems reasonable. Discuss it with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs before implementation.”

“We shall comply with Your Majesty’s command!”

Following Sejong’s decision, a path of tribulation opened for the interpreters at the Office of Interpreters.

This would later become known within the Office as “Shin Gae’s Water Ghost Incident.”

***

May, 24th year of King Sejong’s reign.

A report from the Wonsan shipyard reached Sejong.

-The experimental vessel equipped with a steam engine has been completed.

After confirming the report, Sejong turned to his ministers with a bright expression.

“This is a matter of utmost importance. Shouldn’t we go see it?”

“Indeed, Your Majesty.”

The ministers all agreed with Sejong’s suggestion. They too understood the significance of this matter.

The exploration of the distant New Lands was still progressing at a snail’s pace. Despite gradually discovering more optimal routes through continued voyages and deploying more ships at once, the situation remained sluggish.

The primary reason for this slow progress was the ships’ speed – or more precisely, the vast distance to the New Lands.

Therefore, the need for new vessels capable of traveling longer distances more quickly was crucial.

It was under these circumstances that the report arrived from Wonsan.

After reading the report once more, Sejong turned to Hyang.

“This one took quite a while, didn’t it?”

Hyang slightly bowed his head and replied to Sejong’s question.

“It has been nearly ten years since we began in the Year of Gapchuk (1433).”

I never expected it would take this long! Though we have gained much in the process…

***

Developing a marine propulsion system had been an endless series of trial and error.

The “Archimedes screw” method first proposed by Jang Yeong-sil proved too inefficient. Despite numerous attempts at improvement and experimentation, its efficiency remained poor both absolutely and relatively.

Finally, Hyang made a decision.

“Regrettably, we must abandon this approach!”

“Yes, sir.”

Though Jang Yeong-sil looked thoroughly disappointed at Hyang’s decision, it was unavoidable.

There must be a reason why even the 21st century didn’t use this method!

“Given the situation, let’s research propeller-based propulsion.”

“Yes, sir.”

From Jang Yeong-sil down to the researchers, everyone agreed with Hyang’s decision.

What followed was another series of trial and error.

They conducted experiments considering every aspect from the propeller blades’ shape, size, and number to the materials used.

After experimenting with various alloy compositions from steel to bronze and brass, they finally discovered the most economical and effective material possible with Joseon’s current technology level.

After determining the material, endless experiments continued to find the most efficient shape.

Just when they thought they had finished by deciding on the material and form, Hyang and the research team faced a new problem.

The research team launched a precisely scaled-down model ship in the waterway and activated the steam engine. After confirming the steam engine had reached proper pressure, they engaged the propulsion system.

“What’s with this vibration!”

The research team was horrified. The model ship produced unexpected vibrations.

Consequently, the research team began investigating the cause of these vibrations.

While the research institute and Area 51 worked day and night, Hyang muttered to himself:

“Usually in cases like this, it’s a resonance issue between the shaft, propeller, and engine… The problem is this involves advanced mathematics – my absolute worst subject…”

Being his weakest area, Hyang only provided subtle hints.

However, the monsters at the research institute – Lee Soonji, Kim Dam, Princess Jeong-ui, and others – immediately grasped the direction and began diving deep into the problem.

“We’ve named this phenomenon resonance. When expressed mathematically…”

Watching Lee Soonji fill the blackboard with equations while Kim Dam and Princess Jeong-ui stood beside him wearing proud expressions, Hyang internally screamed.

They solved this with just counting rods and an abacus? Without computers? Are you even human? You’re monsters!

Though Hyang cried out thus, he had forgotten something.

That Newton, Galileo, and even Einstein didn’t have computers. That even in the 1950s, and even when building the first stealth aircraft, they did logarithmic calculations with just a slide rule.

Anyway, after finding some solutions through these equations, the research team and craftsmen immediately began modifications.

Meanwhile, the benefits Joseon gained through this marine steam engine propulsion development process were immense.

“This is the true profit.”

Hyang added while reporting to Sejong. Hearing Hyang’s words, Sejong nodded.

“Indeed. The knowledge gained through such experience is truly the most precious treasure. We must properly document and teach these things.”

Hyang immediately responded to Sejong’s words.

“Yes, Your Majesty. We must gather gifted individuals from all across Joseon.”

“I agree completely.”

Thus were laid the foundations for what would become the world’s most prestigious “Joseon Mathematical Society.”

It had taken nearly ten years of hitting walls, breaking through them, and digesting what was learned in the process. Later historians would evaluate these ten years as:

-The decade that opened the most brilliant period in Joseon’s history of science and technology.

***

Note 1) This is a true historical fact.

Source – The Complete Annals of King Sejong in One Volume. Written by Park Young-gyu. Published by Woongjin Knowledge House.