There was, however, one thing Hyang had slightly overlooked. The 20th-century Republic of Korea had shown a significant obsession with acquiring the title of ‘first’. In truth, this had been a global trend for much of the 20th century. It wasn’t until the 21st century that this nationalistic obsession became so diluted as to be almost unnoticeable, a change that some scholars attributed to the end of the Cold War.
But even in the 21st century, one group remained pathologically obsessed with being ‘first’: industry. In the race to beat competitors and preemptively seize new markets, corporations were fanatical about the title. This was because those who had successfully claimed titles like ‘the first smartphone’ or ‘the first mass-market electric vehicle’ had gone on to virtually monopolize those markets.
***
Meanwhile, the reports of Jang Tae-soo’s eccentric behavior traveled all the way up to Emperor Hyeon. “In one light, this might be a simple matter to be laughed off,” Hyeon noted, his gaze sharp. “Why has it been reported all the way to me?”
At the Emperor’s pointed question, Prime Minister Han Chi-hyeong stepped forward to answer. “It is because the individual receiving the state support and the official assigned to audit that support have joined forces, Your Majesty.”
“Ah. In a melon patch, do not adjust your shoes; under a plum tree, do not adjust your hat.?”
“Precisely, Your Majesty.”
“This man, Jang Tae-soo… surely he is not ignorant of the proverb? Has he forgotten the fate that awaits a corrupt official?”
“That is not the case, Your Majesty,” Han Chi-hyeong quickly explained. “The Board of Audit and Inspection went to investigate, only to find that Jang Tae-soo’s replacement had already been assigned. Upon further inquiry, we learned that Jang Tae-soo himself had voluntarily requested a transfer to a different department, and that request was granted.”
“I see.” Hyeon nodded, a flicker of understanding in his eyes as he muttered to himself, The Office of Records is a terrifying thing indeed. The Imperial Office of Records—notoriously nicknamed ‘The Hell of Letters Manifested on Earth’—was a source of absolute dread for every administrator in the Empire.
“Hearing your explanation, it seems the issue has resolved itself,” Hyeon said. “But as I asked before, why bring it to my attention?”
“We cannot allow a precedent to be set, Your Majesty,” Han Chi-hyeong replied firmly. “This instance may have ended favorably, but this method could easily be abused in the future to cover up failures or to perpetrate fraud. The perception that ‘The Emperor knows everything’ and ‘All administrative actions are reported to the throne’ must be firmly established to deter corruption to the greatest extent possible.”
“That is sound logic,” Hyeon agreed. “Issue a formal warning to this Jang Tae-soo in my name. And then, issue a separate warning to all officials. Barring a war or an open rebellion, ‘acting first and reporting later’ is strictly forbidden.”
“We obey your command!”
Just as the matter seemed settled, Hyeon asked another question. “But tell me. For Jang Tae-soo to involve himself so personally, the power engine he was auditing must have shown some promise, no?”
“According to Jang Tae-soo’s own report, his reason for intervening was… bizarre, Your Majesty.”
“Bizarre?”
As Han Chi-hyeong recounted the full story, Hyeon’s expression turned to one of pure incredulity. “What? For a mechanism as complex as a power engine, precise calculations are fundamental. He’s making simple math errors? And this person dares to call himself a researcher?”
“According to Jang Tae-soo’s testimony, and I quote: ‘The core concept seemed plausible. The deeper I dug, the more plausible it became. But I realized his faulty calculations were going to completely derail a potentially successful project. That is why I intervened.'”
“So, to summarize,” Hyeon said, “the idea is brilliant, but everything that comes after is a complete mess?”
“That is correct, Your Majesty.”
“Hmm…”
Hyeon fell into thought, his fingers drumming rhythmically on the armrest. This situation suddenly reminds me of a certain someone. The ministers, watching their emperor, shared a collective, silent thought. It seems His Majesty is also reminded of that certain someone.
Meanwhile, when the rumors of Jang Tae-soo reached the artisans of Area 51, they were far more direct.
“That’s the Emperor Emeritus, that is.”
“A perfect imitation.”
Hyang was infamous for showing up out of the blue, tossing a scrap of paper scribbled with some completely unthinkable concept onto a workbench, and saying, “Try to draw up a proper schematic and finish this.”
“…Is this even possible, Your Majesty?”
“Maybe? No, knowing you all, you can definitely do it.”
When the Emperor Emeritus, Hyang, put his faith in them like that, not a single artisan would dare back down. His Majesty trusts us! No artisan here has ever admitted defeat! I will not be the first! “…I will do my utmost.”
That one phrase was all it took to signal the beginning of another grueling saga of blood, sweat, and tears. Back at Sugang Palace, Hyang, having heard the rumors himself, muttered with an awkward expression, “That explains why my ears were itching so much…”
***
The original expectation was that it would take at least five years before any tangible results began to appear. Contrary to this, the first submission arrived just over one year later. However, upon reviewing the submission, Hyang and Woo, who were serving as judges, immediately summoned the applicant.
“You are to go to Jang Yeong-sil’s grave right now,” Hyang commanded, his voice severe, “and you will beg his forgiveness!”
The device the applicant had submitted was an engine powered by a mainspring. The problem was that Jang Yeong-sil had already invented a mainspring-based power device centuries ago, and full-scale, functioning replicas were on permanent display at both the Academy of Mechanics and the Institute of Engineering.
“This humble subject did not know!” the man pleaded, prostrating himself. “I have never even set foot inside the Academy of Mechanics or the Institute of Engineering!”
He proclaimed his innocence, but Hyang’s voice grew even colder as he pressed him. “Are you claiming this is a coincidence?”
“Y-Yes, Your Majesty! It is!”
“You insolent fool!” Hyang roared. “Who do you take me for? Do you think I am some blind old man? Fine! Let us say the basic idea of using a mainspring is a coincidence. But your schematics are eighty percent identical to those drawn by Jang Yeong-sil! The power-transmission mechanism in particular is a dead copy, as if you traced it! How can you possibly call that a coincidence? I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt, but you are a hopeless case! Guards! Call the soldiers immediately!”
The moment Hyang called for soldiers, the applicant’s façade shattered. He slammed his forehead to the floor, begging frantically. “F-Forgive me, Your Majesty! This humble subject was blinded by greed and committed a grave error! My talent was insufficient, but my avarice was too great! It was an act of pure foolishness, I beg you to forgive me!”
“You knew it was wrong, and yet you did it. There is no forgiveness for that!” Hyang declared. “Guards! Drag this man out and hand him over to the Police Bureau!”
“Yes, Your Majesty!” “M-Mercy! Please, have mercy!”
The man screamed for his life as the soldiers’ hands seized him, but he was dragged from the hall without a backward glance.
“I worked with Jang Yeong-sil on countless projects,” Hyang fumed, “and this man commits such a despicable… no, such a stupid act. How can anyone be that idiotic?”
Woo, who had been standing quietly at his side, shook his head. “If you had not been present, Emperor Emeritus, we might well have been fooled.”
“Hm? Why do you say that?”
“Your Majesty, you not only worked alongside Jang Yeong-sil, but you saw all of his original creations firsthand. All I have ever seen are the finished replicas displayed in the research labs and the framed schematics on the walls.”
Hyang’s expression turned thoughtful. “So, you are saying that if a copy was submitted, you would not be able to immediately identify it as such?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. There is almost no one left alive who personally worked with the great masters of old, like Jang Yeong-sil.”
“Tch…” Hyang smacked his lips, a strange thought crossing his mind. This suddenly reminds me of a movie title. ‘I Am Legend’… I really have lived a long, long time. I wonder, can I actually break King Jangsu’s record?
Quickly shelving the stray thought, Hyang returned to the matter at hand. “We cannot guarantee this will be the last attempt at fraud. We need a new policy.”
“I agree, Your Majesty,” Woo said. “First, we must gather all historical records pertaining to power engines. We can then cross-reference submissions to see if they are merely similar, and if so, determine if it is coincidence or outright plagiarism.”
“It will make the process more cumbersome, but it is the proper way,” Hyang affirmed. “And we will add a new clause to the competition rules: ‘If any fraudulent methods, such as plagiarism, are discovered, all state support funds will be subject to full recoupment. This recoupment will be enforced in the same manner as a criminal fine.'”
Woo nodded, his expression somber. “There will be many who find themselves trapped between a rock and a hard place.”
***
The support for challengers was not a handout. Those who quit halfway or were found to have used fraudulent methods were required to return the funds. A fraudster had to repay the entire sum and face legal punishment. A quitter, on the other hand, had to return all unused funds and submit to an audit of their expenditures. If the audit confirmed the funds were used solely for the competition, the matter was closed. But if funds were found to have been diverted, that amount also had to be paid back. The only expenditure exempt from this “diversion” clause was “basic subsistence for one’s dependent family.”
If a challenger was unable to repay the sum, the recoupment process was identical to that for an unpaid criminal fine. The individual would be sentenced to forced labor for a period equivalent to the debt. Their wages were set at the legal minimum, and all costs for their food, clothing, and medical care were deducted from those wages. Only the pittance that remained was put toward paying down the debt. After all deductions, one would be lucky to clear even half their wage. For the sums involved, this typically meant a minimum of ten years of hard labor.
This was why Woo had remarked that many would be trapped. Plagiarism was the easiest, fastest way to secure the support funds. But it was an impossible path as long as Hyang—the “living history of Area 51″—stood watch.
***
Thanks to Hyang, a significant number of grifters were forced to repay their funds and give up. But through it all, there were those who continued to strive. The most prominent among them was Da Vinci. “I have had an idea for a very long time!” he declared.
His concept was a variation of his old ‘Da Vinci Engine’. It involved feeding a high-temperature, high-pressure mixture of air and petroleum into the internal combustion chamber he had long theorized. The main difference from the internal combustion engine Hyang knew was that it lacked a compression stroke.
“With this, the victory in this competition will surely be mine!” Da Vinci reviewed his completed schematics, his expression confident. But that confidence soon gave way to a familiar anxiety. “But… why do I feel so unsettled? Why?”
He pondered for only a moment before the source of his anxiety became clear. “The Emperor Emeritus!” Hyang, the man who always seemed to be one step ahead of him, was the root of his unease. Da Vinci turned back to his schematics, his eyes narrowed in determination. “This time… this time, I will finally surpass this so-called Emperor Emeritus Hyang’s wall!”
When reports of Da Vinci’s proclamation reached Hyang through various channels, he could only let out a bitter laugh. “What am I, some kind of Final Boss? If he wants to surpass a wall, tell him to surpass Jang Yeong-sil first!”