Black Corporation: Joseon

“Crown Prince, your meaning is too ambiguous. Are you speaking only about the case where Ouchi seizes power? Or are you taking a broader view?”

Hyang immediately bowed his head at Sejong’s question.

“I apologize. I had too many thoughts in my head and failed to organize them properly before speaking.”

“The saying ‘excess is as bad as deficiency’ exists for good reason. Well then, let me ask you one thing at a time. Are you certain the current bakufu cannot maintain power?”

“Their collapse is certain—the only question is whether it happens immediately or after some resistance.”

“That’s still too vague. ‘Some’ could mean 100 years or 1,000 years.”

“At minimum 10 years, at maximum 30 years.”

“Why are you so certain?”

“Because when the child newly proclaimed as Japan’s king comes of age, he’ll try to reclaim his power. That power includes the matter of succession. Therefore, it won’t last beyond 30 years.”

***

Interestingly, Hyang knew very little about Japanese history. His knowledge was limited to what related to Korean history—specifically what was covered in college entrance exams.

Simply put, while his analysis was made from an almost blank slate regarding Japan, it proved accurate.

In the history before Hyang’s intervention, one of the causes of the Ōnin War, considered the start of the Sengoku period, was the question of who would be named Ashikaga Yoshimasa’s successor.

***

‘Minimum 10 years, maximum 30 years.’

After mulling over Hyang’s firm answer, Sejong soon nodded.

“A reasonable response. So, Ouchi is most likely to initiate the conflict, and the struggle will likely become a proxy war between our Joseon and Ming. I understand this much.”

The ministers also nodded at Sejong’s summary. After confirming their reaction, Sejong questioned Hyang again.

“Then, is this what you meant earlier? ‘Even if Ouchi becomes the new King of Japan, any deviation from expected behavior would be catastrophic’?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“Why?”

When Sejong asked for the reason, all the ministers perked up their ears. The court historians and scribes also focused intently on Hyang’s words with fascinated expressions.

Hyang immediately began answering Sejong’s question.

“Though these are my shallow observations, I’ve considered various possibilities. They all share a common cause, and all results are catastrophic.”

As Hyang seemed about to launch into a lengthy explanation, Sejong stepped in to chide him.

“Your preamble grows long again. However, a common cause…”

Sejong paused briefly, thinking deeply before asking Hyang.

“Are you talking about the Emperor?”

Hyang immediately nodded at Sejong’s question.

“Yes, Father.”

Hwang Hui interjected at Hyang’s response.

“The Emperor… Despite the grand title, hasn’t he been merely a figurehead since before the previous civil war?”

The ministers nodded at Hwang Hui’s point. Then Kim Jong-seo joined the conversation.

“Though symbolic, I believe we cannot ignore his existence. The Crown Prince compared Japan’s current situation to the Spring and Autumn period—thinking along those lines, it becomes quite problematic.”

“How so?”

Kim Jong-seo answered Hwang Hui’s question.

“What did the Five Hegemons of the Spring and Autumn period seek? Leadership of the alliance. Literally the position of ‘first below Heaven, above all others.'”

“Couldn’t that position be equated to the bakufu’s shogun?”

Hwang Hui sharply targeted Kim Jong-seo’s weak point. Internally, Kim Jong-seo cursed.

Damn this old bastard! Why is he so dead set on getting me?

However, Hwang Hui had his own calculations.

When the Crown Prince takes the throne, this guy will occupy one of the Prime Minister’s Office rooms! He needs proper training to help the Crown Prince govern correctly!

“Minister of General Affairs, explain properly! Quickly!”

Under Hwang Hui’s pressure, Kim Jong-seo desperately racked his brains before suddenly widening his eyes and looking at Hyang.

“Could you be considering ‘Revere the Emperor, Expel the Barbarians’?”

Hyang nodded at Kim Jong-seo’s question.

“Indeed.”

***

Though Hyang had answered, the throne room remained surprisingly quiet. Sejong and the ministers all closed their mouths, their minds working furiously.

Why “Revere the Emperor, Expel the Barbarians”?

Why bring up that slogan from thousands of years ago?

Revere the Emperor… Revere…

As they pondered the connection between “Revere the Emperor, Expel the Barbarians” and Japan’s political situation, Hyang posed a question to Kim Jong-seo.

“Minister of General Affairs, why do you think this concept would be problematic?”

“The issue lies in one of the shogun’s titles—’Sei-i Taishōgun’ (Barbarian-Subduing Generalissimo).”

Foreign Affairs Minister Heo Hu interrupted at Kim Jong-seo’s response.

“Why that title? Wasn’t it created to suppress indigenous forces rebelling against the Emperor in northern Honshu?”

Kim Jong-seo answered Heo Hu’s question.

“Yes, that’s how it began. The problem is that those rebellious indigenous forces were pushed to Hokkaido. Ah! To be precise, they didn’t just get pushed there and settle—they were originally from the same roots.”

After pausing briefly to gather his breath, Kim Jong-seo addressed Sejong.

“This is my humble opinion.”

Kim Jong-seo’s views were as follows:

• -Throughout history, those who seized power through force keenly felt the need to reorganize military forces that had grown too powerful to threaten their authority. In other words, they needed to dispose of allies who’d served their purpose.
• -For this, active foreign expeditions would be attempted, and in Japan’s case, Hokkaido’s existence could provide the perfect solution.

“Therefore, if Ouchi considers disposing of allies, they might use the title of ‘Sei-i Taishōgun’ to target Hokkaido.”

At Kim Jong-seo’s response, Hwang Hui shook his head with an incredulous expression.

“Ouchi knows Joseon’s strength well—would they really do something so stupid?”

As Kim Jong-seo was about to respond to Hwang Hui’s point, Kim Jeom cut in.

“I think it’s possible.”

“Why?”

“Unless Joseon strikes the main islands, Ouchi has nothing to lose. If successful, they’ll have a chance to build strength away from Joseon’s eyes. Even if they fail, they can wear down the power of troublesome daimyo.”

This time, Jo Mal-saeng raised an objection to Kim Jeom’s words.

“If such a thing happened, our Joseon army would immediately strike the main islands. That’s basic military strategy. If Ouchi thinks we’d only look at Hokkaido without striking the main islands, they’re the stupid ones.”

“Sure, giving Japan a good thrashing by striking the main islands would be easy enough. But after stirring up the main islands, do we have the strength to suppress all the daimyo who would rise up and maintain control? And what about the finances?”

Jo Mal-saeng immediately answered Kim Jeom’s counterpoint.

“Couldn’t we just pick someone suitable as a puppet?”

“Have you considered the financial drain of supporting that puppet to build enough strength to properly govern Japan? And what if the puppet we’ve nurtured turns against our Joseon? What if they use the guns and artillery we provided to oppose us?”

“…”

Jo Mal-saeng fell silent at Kim Jeom’s points.

Meanwhile, Hyang’s mouth gaped as he listened to Kim Jeom and Jo Mal-saeng’s exchange.

Oh? I hadn’t thought of that either.

Though initially surprised by points he hadn’t considered, Hyang soon nodded.

Well, there have been plenty of cases where puppet governments caused headaches. Britain had it happen, France too, the Soviet Union, America, China… Wait a minute? Is there any major power that hasn’t experienced this?

While Hyang pondered this, Kim Jeom presented his thoughts to Sejong.

“Considering the cunning nature of the Japanese, if it’s Ouchi, they would launch political operations alongside actual actions. They might make excuses like ‘This was done by those holding grudges against the bakufu. Our bakufu had nothing to do with this.’ This would deprive our Joseon of justification to strike the main islands. If we ignore this and attack anyway, we’d actually give the bakufu legitimacy.”

“I see. So simply put, if things unfold that way, it becomes a political matter rather than a military one?”

“Exactly, Your Majesty. From the war expenses for troops deployed to Hokkaido onwards, nothing good would come of it for our Joseon.”

At Kim Jeom’s words, Sejong looked at Hyang.

“Indeed, it would be bad for our Joseon. But isn’t it insufficient to call it catastrophic?”

Hyang explained his reasoning to Sejong’s question.

“Though expelling the barbarians is no small matter, revering the Emperor is an even bigger issue.”

“Revering the Emperor?”

“Consider this alongside the Japanese who have come to our Joseon and properly learned scholarship and administrative practices, gaining experience.”

At Hyang’s elaboration, Sejong and the ministers fell silent, deep in thought.

Soon after, they all burst out with curses.

“Damn it all!”

“What kind of fucking mess is this!”

***

After the storm of profanity passed, Sejong spoke.

“Let me lay out my thoughts.”

Sejong began explaining his analysis:

• -The Japanese who came to Joseon learned the concepts of kingly politics and gained practical experience.
• -Having experienced the benefits of centralized authority, they would try to reform Japan’s decentralized political system.
• -Their reform’s justification would be ‘revering the Emperor.’
• -The key question would become ‘Who is king?’
• -In the near term, Ouchi would be king; in the long term, the Emperor.
• -Following the example of Goryeo’s transformation to Joseon, attempts might arise to depose the Emperor and make Ouchi the true King of Japan.
• -If this actually occurs, Japan would enter another long civil war.
• -Conversely, if the Emperor is considered king, two possibilities arise.

One is considering Ouchi’s position as that of a hegemon like in the Spring and Autumn period. The other is Ouchi demanding the return of power to the Emperor.

-The former is the best case Hyang mentioned.

“…In the latter case, they wouldn’t move immediately. But if they move beneath the surface with long-term plans, it would become a major problem later.”

“Exactly so, Your Majesty.”

All the ministers nodded at Sejong’s assessment.

Though they had grown worldly, the ministers gathered in the throne room were all well-versed in Neo-Confucianism. Moreover, they had handled practical matters in the process of completing the centralized political system.

Thanks to this, they had grasped the implications and dangers of the “revering the Emperor” concept Hyang mentioned, leading to their cursing.

While observing the ministers’ reactions to Sejong’s theory, Hyang muttered internally.

Wasn’t “Revere the Emperor, Expel the Barbarians” the slogan they raised when starting the Meiji Restoration? It started with that, moved to just revering the Emperor, and ended with partisan politics.

As Sejong nodded at Hyang’s affirmation, he continued.

“When their movements surface, if our descendants fail to judge properly, a great crisis will come.”