Foreign attempts to acquire the Empire’s classified information, particularly regarding the power source of its flying machines, were persistent and utterly relentless.

“Regardless of the details, the Empire has succeeded in making an aircraft fly. That means the Empire possesses something we do not! The most likely candidate is its power engine. An engine capable of lifting an aircraft can just as easily be adapted for ships and iron horses!”

It was an entirely rational deduction, and not an incorrect one. This line of reasoning was so compelling that even Japan, known for its pro-Imperial stance, and the Ming Dynasty under the Chenghua Emperor, went so far as to mobilize spies. Of course, there was a key difference: for Ming and Japan, espionage was secondary to their primary focus on diplomatic negotiations.

Portugal, Italy, and Switzerland soon followed, sending their own diplomats to engage in negotiations. Switzerland showed the most enthusiasm, having concluded that for a nation situated in the middle of the Alps, aircraft were the ultimate tool for rapid and efficient reconnaissance.

Finally, even the Ottomans dispatched diplomats. The other major European powers, however, leaned more heavily on espionage, their relationships with the Empire already strained from previous conflicts. Thus, a dual reality emerged: by day, fierce verbal battles erupted in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs complex in Jongno; by night, vicious, bloody skirmishes stained the back alleys of Seoul. These nightly brawls plunged the Seoul Police Bureau into a perpetual state of emergency.

“‘If the nights in Seoul are this chaotic, how can the people possibly live with any peace of mind? His Majesty doesn’t let it show, but His concern is profound! If He decides to make this a public matter, are you going to deal with the fallout? You sons of bitches! Why do I have to be the one to go and listen to this crap!'”

The Chief of Police, fresh from a thorough dressing-down by the Prime Minister, returned to his office and unleashed that exact tirade on his own subordinates. Those subordinates, in turn, passed the berating down to their subordinates. In the name of maintaining public order, the Police Bureau intensified random searches and expanded the Night Watch to bolster patrols. This escalation in police activity made movement difficult not only for foreign spies but also for the Secret Guards.

Of course, Secret Guards agents possessed various secret certificates and licenses issued by the Emperor himself. This solution, however, was practically unusable. The core problem was that the front-line patrolmen—the very officers the agents were most likely to encounter—had almost no knowledge of these credentials. Educating every low-ranking officer to recognize them would inevitably expose the Secret Guards’s existence, severely compromising its value.

The Secret Guards’s entire raison d’être—to be ‘the Emperor’s hidden eyes and ears, his hidden sword and shield’—would simply evaporate. Therefore, for the first time in recent memory, or perhaps for the first time in its history, the Secret Guards submitted a formal petition to the Emperor.

***

Hyeon, upon receiving the Secret Guards’s petition, immediately sought out Wan and Hyang. “Everyone, leave us.” At Hyeon’s command, the historiographers, recorders, eunuchs, and court ladies attending him all bowed deeply and exited the room.

I wonder what sort of bizarre contraption the three of them are planning to build this time…

They had been completely fooled by the bundle of blueprints Hyeon had carried in specifically to conceal the petition. Once the room was empty, Hyeon presented the petition to Hyang and Wan. “This seems rather serious.” After reviewing the document, both Wan and Hyang nodded gravely.

“Indeed,” Wan said. “But we cannot simply reveal the Secret Guards’s existence.”

“It must be revealed eventually, but now is premature,” Hyang agreed.

Wan and Hyeon nodded. The Secret Guards’s primary functions were espionage and counter-espionage, but it also operated as the Emperor’s secret inspectorate. If an organization of this nature were exposed, the ministers and powerful factions of the court would undoubtedly use every means at their disposal to seize control of it. From its inception, various countermeasures had been designed and refined to prevent such a scenario, but the most effective defense had always been simple: limiting the number of people who knew it existed.

“The difficulty in operating is one problem, but replenishing the agents we’re burning through is another,” Hyeon added. “We are losing personnel faster than we can replace them… And it’s not as if we can recruit just anyone. This is a serious problem,” Wan mused.

The Secret Guards’s clandestine nature made public recruitment impossible, leaving it in a perpetual state of talent shortage. Unable to find a perfect solution, the three men settled on a temporary stopgap.

• For the time being, the Secret Guards would focus primarily on surveillance.
• If a target was confirmed as a spy, they were to be reported immediately to the Police Bureau.
• Direct action was to be taken only as a last resort in the worst-case scenario.

***

“Hmm… I had a flash of inspiration just a moment ago…” After Wan and Hyeon departed, Hyang remained alone, tilting his head and muttering to himself. “What was it…? Getting old really does make you a bit slow, a bit forgetful.” Frustrated by the idea that remained tantalizingly out of reach, he shifted his gaze.

Best to think about something else for a moment. I trust you, my brain. As he deliberately looked away, his eyes landed on a stack of documents. They were from Woo, seeking consultation regarding new entries for the Challenge Records. Hyang idly sifted through the papers, his expression blank, until his eyes suddenly lit up. “This is it!”

***

A few days later, Hyang summoned Wan and Hyeon to Sugang Palace. “It’s truly fortunate you haven’t returned to New Frontier yet, Wan.”

“Oh? And why is that, Your Majesty?” Hyang took a sip of water, a sly grin spreading across his face as he began to speak. “I have devised a little stratagem. It will resolve our current predicament and, incidentally, make solving our other major problem much easier.”

At Hyang’s words, Wan and Hyeon shared an identical thought. Was there ever such a thing as a ‘little’ stratagem when it came to the Emperor Emeritus?

“What stratagem do you have in mind?”

“Does the phrase ‘To Avoid Facing a Wall’ mean anything to you?”

“To Avoid Facing a Wall?” Hyeon repeated, puzzled.

“To avoid facing a wall…” Wan murmured, processing the term.

Wan’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with shock. “Don’t tell me… You intend to release the new external combustion engine?”

Hyang’s grin widened. “That is merely the beginning.”

Hyang then laid out the details of his plan.

• First, they would announce the schematics and operating principles of the new external combustion engine to the entire world.
• Simultaneously, they would announce that the actual, completed engines were available for purchase.
• This, he reasoned, would cause the foreign spies running rampant in the Empire to withdraw, and it would generate substantial ancillary revenue.

“France and the Habsburgs will be lining up to buy them,” Hyang stated.

“Ah, I see,” Hyeon said, catching on.

“And that,” Hyang continued, “is only the start.”

“Once other nations understand the schematics and possess the physical engine, they will also understand its limitations. And precisely at that moment, we make another announcement to the world: The Empire is hosting a competition to find a new type of power engine.” He detailed the rules:

• A. Any fuel source is permissible, with the exception of gunpowder. Furthermore, any method that violates human ethics is strictly forbidden.
• B. There are no restrictions on the operating principle.
• C. However, the proposed engine must be demonstrably more efficient than all existing power sources, including manual labor and animal power.

“There will be no deadline for submissions,” Hyang continued. “In other words, this competition will remain open indefinitely, until a power source emerges that satisfies everyone. The winner’s engine or schematic will be immortalized in the Responses to Challenge Records, with the highest possible classification: Grinding An Axe to a Needle, the Highest level. Furthermore, it will be registered as intellectual property, with its rights protected under Imperial law for thirty years. And finally, the winner will receive a substantial cash prize.”

“A cash prize?” Wan asked cautiously.

“How much were you considering?” Hyeon followed up.

“Five thousand nyang of gold.”

“Gack!”

“Kuh-koff!”

Hyeon and Wan, momentarily choked, erupted in violent coughs. Wan, barely catching his breath, stared at Hyang in disbelief. “Are you trying to drive the entire world insane?”

“In exchange, we solve the problem of spies disturbing our nights and we find a quick and easy solution to the engine problem that has been causing us such headaches. Considering that, five thousand nyang of gold is hardly a great expense. Especially given the latter, isn’t it a massive gain? Just consider how Europe developed guncotton and smokeless powder. The world is wide,” Hyang concluded, “and it is full of geniuses.”

“The world is also wide,” Wan countered dryly, “and full of madmen.”

“Are you referring to me?” Hyang asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Of course not!” Wan protested, feigning shock. “How could I say something so dreadfully unfilial?”

Wan denied it vehemently, and Hyeon, standing beside him, nodded in vigorous agreement.

Hyang internally smirked. They say a strong denial is just a strong confirmation, don’t they? Well… even I have to admit I’m not exactly normal. After glaring at Wan for another moment, Hyang concluded, “That is the full extent of the stratagem I have named ‘To Avoid Facing a Wall’.”

“Ah,” Wan said, finally understanding. “So that’s why you called it that.”

Wan nodded in comprehension. The phrase originated from the teachings of Confucius to his son: One must study and master the odes on ‘Self-Cultivation’ and ‘Governing the Household’ in the Classic of Poetry to escape the frustration of ‘facing a wall’. The term avoiding facing a wall eventually spread among the populace, giving rise to the common proverb, “You have to know something to avoid facing a wall,” which also doubled as a pun: “You have to know something to become a township head.”

Though initially appalled by the scale of it, Wan and Hyeon slowly came to nod in agreement.

“It certainly is the best way to resolve the issues currently plaguing us,” Hyeon admitted.

“Indeed,” Wan added. “When you consider the waste of time and resources a conventional approach would require…”

And so, the ‘To Avoid Facing a Wall Plan’ was set into motion. Having reached an agreement, the three men put their heads together once more.

“Now, how to persuade the ministers without revealing the Secret Guards…”

***

A few days later, Hyeon dropped a political bombshell in Gyeongbok Palace. “I have heard,” the Emperor began, his voice resonating through the hall, “that murders are rampant in the back alleys of Seoul. This is a matter of grave concern.”

The ministers immediately prostrated themselves. “We are deeply ashamed, Your Majesty! This has occurred due to our incompetence!”

“The people are growing anxious. This is a serious matter. You must redouble your efforts.”

“We shall engrave your words upon our very bones, Your Majesty!”

One of the ministers thought privately, Hm? Why isn’t he clicking his tongue? Still, it’s a relief if he lets it pass this easily… 

The ministers, puzzled that Hyeon—usually quick to click his tongue in disapproval—was letting it slide, chose not to dwell on it. However, Hyeon’s next words made them regret their brief sense of relief.

“But tell me,” Hyeon continued, “reviewing the reports from the Police Bureau, it seems all the deceased are foreigners. Is this correct?”

“That is correct, Your Majesty.”

“I have heard that the clandestine struggles among the European spies are vicious. It seems these incidents are related.”

“Your humble subjects are of the same opinion. Information from Europe suggests that these conflicts have been instigated by a desire for the aircraft and, specifically, its power engine.”

“In that case,” the Emperor said, his voice hardening, “there must be numerous attempts to steal our Empire’s secrets, correct?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. We have already issued strict orders to the military security details and the Police Bureau.”

“Well done. However, there is a saying among the people: ‘Ten patrolmen cannot stop a single thief.’ And that brings me to my point…” Hyeon then proceeded to explain the ‘To Avoid Facing a Wall Plan’ to the assembled officials. “…That is my proposal. What do you think?”

“………”

A heavy silence fell as Hyeon finished speaking. Everyone in the grand hall, from the highest ministers to the lowest court attendants, was frozen in disbelief. Even the royal recorders stared blankly, their hands hovering, unmoving, over their typewriters.

***

Three months later, an official proclamation of Hyang’s competition was disseminated across the Empire, Ming, Japan, and Europe—in short, to the entire known world. The content of the announcement was exactly as Hyang had outlined, with one small exception: the prize money had been reduced from five thousand to three thousand nyang of gold.

“Huh? The state posted a new proclamation.”

“What’s it say?”

“Seeking a new power engine… The winner receives a prize…”

“A prize of…?” Everyone who read the announcement froze on the spot. The reaction was the same in Ming, Japan, and all across Europe.

“The winner shall receive a prize of three thousand nyang in gold. Payment can be taken in Imperial banknotes or, if desired, in physical bullion.”

“Imperial banknotes are backed by actual weight, right? 3,000 nyang… how many pounds is that?”

“Roughly 250… Gack!”

It wasn’t just the speakers; everyone who overheard the conversation froze. Three thousand nyang of gold was equivalent to approximately 113 kilograms. In 21st-century terms, this was a staggering sum, valued somewhere between 8.7 and 11 billion KRW. Even in modern times it was a fortune, but in this era, it was a sum beyond all imagination.

“And it’s not just the money! It says the winner will be inducted into the Responses to Challenge Records! And they’re guaranteeing intellectual property rights!”

“It’s a chance to seize both fortune and eternal fame!”

Just as Wan had predicted, it wasn’t long before the entire world descended into a frenzy. Hyang, who received the reports of this chaos from Sugang Palace, simply gazed out the window with a knowing, wolfish smile.

“Wasn’t it in that one pirate manga?” he mused. “‘My treasure? If you want it, you can have it. I left everything I own… in that one place! Find it!’ Hahaha!”

This incident would later give rise to a new saying: “When three Emperors gather, chaos is sure to follow.”