“Huhu…”
“Hehehe…”
“Kukukuku…”
The three Emperors—past, present, and future—let out a continuous stream of sinister laughter. The eunuchs and court ladies attending them retreated step by step, their faces pale with dread. The newer attendants, lacking experience, had already backed far away and were huddled together, trembling.
The only ones maintaining their positions were the elderly eunuchs and court ladies accustomed to the Emperors’ eccentricities, along with the royal scribes and historians. The scribes gritted their teeth, their hands shaking as they recorded the scene with their golden brushes. And then there were those who seemed entirely unfazed.
They were the craftsmen who had arrived with the object in question. While they dared not laugh aloud given the setting, they wore similar dark smiles to the Emperors. Regardless of whether their entourage was terrified, the Emperors could not stop laughing as they gazed at the object before them.
“Huhu… Your Majesty the Grand Emperor has achieved something truly great.”
“How could it be my achievement alone? It is thanks to the hard work of the craftsmen. But looking at that thing, I simply cannot stop laughing. Hehehe…”
“Not at all. Thanks to the birth of this child, Your Majesty the Emperor Emeritus can finally set aside his worries. What is this if not an act of filial piety? And now that this child has arrived, it feels as if a blocked dam has burst, and the water will flow forth majestically. Once that happens, the ship I have been devising will soon be… Kukukuku.”
The Emperors looked upon the object, fixed securely to a large, sturdy steel stand, with expressions of profound emotion. Of course, their laughter didn’t quite match the sentiment. Nor did the gesture of rubbing their hands together while contemplating its immediate application.
The object that made these three Emperors look like villains was an internal combustion engine—specifically, a gasoline engine.
***
The person who played the largest role in developing this revolutionary internal combustion engine was Wan (Hyang’s son). Hyang enjoyed dabbling in various fields to the point where the term “maniac” fit him well. Conversely, this meant his knowledge in many areas was often superficial or at a “mid-level enthusiast” level. In the 21st century, his fellow enthusiasts would often joke:
“A true enthusiast must see things through to the end! Heretic! Fraud! To the stake with him!”
“Heretic!”
Whenever Hyang heard such jokes, he would retort:
“Begone, fundamentalists!”
Unlike Hyang, Wan had devoted himself entirely to “flying machines.” In terms of materials and power systems, Wan had accumulated knowledge deep enough to be considered comparable to Hyang. However, this depth of knowledge was solely connected to aviation.
- Development or discovery of materials that are light, elastic, and strong.
- Power systems that are compact yet produce powerful output.
- Development or discovery of materials that make such power systems possible.
- Discovery of fuels suitable for such power systems.
Having set these goals and devoted himself to them, Wan was the first to integrate a Stirling engine using petroleum fuel into a flying machine. Although it was a “new type of external combustion engine” showing superior performance to existing steam engines, Wan shook his head.
“It’s usable, but at this level, it can’t be called better than an airship.”
Realizing the limitations of the “new external combustion engine,” Wan threw himself passionately into research and development. The breakthrough came in the form of papers disguised as reports sent from the research institute in the mainland. The reports regularly delivered to the New Frontier contained various academic papers published in the mainland. Through these papers, Wan learned about the concept of “combustion” and the existence of “oxygen.”
“This feels like I’m on the verge of grasping something…”
Catching a faint clue while examining the papers, Wan dug deeper. Amidst this, information on the development of a new type of self-propelled rocket using an internal combustion chamber and a mixer accelerated Wan’s research.
“This looks promising. Should I try applying it?”
However, Wan’s attempt ended in failure. The power system of the new self-propelled rocket involved gas combusted in an internal chamber turning a turbine connected to a propulsion shaft, which then operated the rocket’s propeller. Wan changed the fuel from ethanol to petroleum. This was due to unit cost, supply efficiency, and political justification.
Although terms like “spring famine” existed only in records within the Empire now, the administration still disliked playing games with grain. While self-propelled rockets could be excused with various pretexts, using grain alcohol as fuel for flying machines would undoubtedly face massive opposition.
The sheer volume of usage would be incomparable. Therefore, Wan switched the fuel to petroleum and activated the rocket’s propulsion system. But this experiment failed. The blades of the power-generating turbine inside the combustion chamber could not withstand the high temperatures applied over a long period. Furthermore, soot generated during the combustion process clogged the mechanism, causing the shaft to break.
It was a result brought about by the Empire’s technological level, which, though explosively advanced, still had a long way to go. Eventually, Wan had to devise a new concept again. As time passed, various papers began to emerge in the field of electricity. Among them were papers on electrical ignition.
“Wait? You can create a spark with electricity?”
Wan and the craftsmen stopped in their tracks, captivated by this part.
“Sealed combustion chamber, mixer, electric spark…”
“This feels like it might work…”
“If it feels like it might work, let’s make it work!”
Thus, by grinding down the craftsmen of Area 52, the new power system was born.
“Haa… It was truly a difficult time.”
Looking at the newly created engine, Wan wore an expression of mixed emotions. Seeing Wan’s face, the craftsmen who accompanied him nodded with similar expressions, recalling the desperate struggles they had endured.
“Still, I am truly grateful to see the result before leaving the New Frontier.”
At Wan’s words, Hyeon glanced slyly at Woo, who was standing to one side. The expression on Woo’s face could be summarized in one sentence:
- The good days are gone.
***
According to the law, Hyeon should have passed the throne to Woo a few years ago and left for the New Frontier. However, a major incident involving joint operations with Ming and Japan to secure Persian oil occurred, and Hyeon’s abdication was postponed for several years.
“…So, the delayed abdication will happen this time. Understood?”
“…Yes.”
Seeing Woo with the expression of a cow being dragged to the slaughterhouse, Hyeon continued.
“Making that face won’t help; abdication is unavoidable. Isn’t it time you gave up?”
“Yes…”
“So, what will you do when you ascend the throne?”
“I will strive for the Empire’s peace and do my best to ensure the people enjoy comfort.”
“It sounds like you just intend to fill exactly 20 years without any major accidents?”
“…”
“You know the saying, ‘The tree wishes to be still, but the wind does not cease’?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think that story only applies to filial piety? Affairs of state are the same. Look at me. I thought I would spend 20 years well without major incidents, but didn’t this happen at the very end?”
At Hyeon’s words, Woo bowed his head and muttered inwardly.
- That’s why I didn’t want to be Crown Prince! Those damn brothers of mine! Just wait until I ascend the throne! Everyone is getting reassigned! I’ll banish you all to Lake Baikal in the far northeast and the Permafrost Lands even further north for 20 years!
As Woo resolved to make retaliatory personnel appointments against the brothers who had dumped the Crown Prince position on him, Hyeon’s voice reached his ears.
“…Still, knowing your feelings to some extent, I will give you a little help. What do you think is most important to make that ’20 years without extension’ you desire so much possible?”
“Is it not military power?”
“Military power is always something to prioritize. Diplomacy as well. Economy is more important. Public welfare is more important than economy. But for the future, there is something even more important than these. Do you know what it is?”
Woo pondered Hyeon’s question for a long time before bowing his head.
“Your son is dull and does not know. Please give me the answer.”
“Communication.”
“Communication… you say?”
“Yes.”
Hyeon explained why communication was important.
- Currently, urgent communication between the mainland and the Northern Territories takes less than half a sijin (about 1 hour). Even urgent messages sent from near Lake Baikal in the far northeast can reach me within half a day at the latest.
- However, regions not connected to the mainland by land cannot have such fast communication.
- Even using carrier pigeons takes days, and the probability of proper arrival is not high.
- Therefore, even if a dispute involving the Empire’s interests arises in a nation or region far from the Empire, it takes too long to learn of it and prepare countermeasures. In the worst case, the opportunity is missed, and it becomes like prescribing medicine after death.
- To prevent this as much as possible, significant authority is delegated to officials dispatched to distant foreign lands, or a considerable number of Imperial troops are stationed there.
- This is a problematic method. An official might abuse the authority granted to them and act beyond their bounds. Also, excessive expenditure may occur in the process of stationing and maintaining Imperial troops.
“…Because of this, when the Persian issue arose, I delayed abdicating to you. Thanks to this painfully slow communication, matters that could be resolved in a day or two with countermeasures in the mainland take half a year, which is ridiculous. Situations arise where we deploy at least 30,000 troops for a task that 10,000 would suffice for. And all of this costs enormous amounts of money.”
“Ah…”
At Hyeon’s explanation, Woo nodded as if finally understanding. Among the things he had learned while observing beside Hyeon and ruling as regent, there were more than a few instances where time was eaten up due to communication problems.
- If fast communication becomes possible, I can abdicate right at the 20-year mark! This is certain!
“…And there is another good thing besides that. If such fast communication is possible, wouldn’t you be able to know more quickly what music and songs are popular in other places?”
“Ah! Your son will do his best!”
***
Woo had accepted it then, even with enthusiasm. However, listening to Wan’s words, Woo once again felt the weight of the ‘forced reality.’
- Fine! I’ll be Emperor, damn it! No, I will do my best to be the best! In return, I will do whatever it takes to serve only 20 years! No additional reign! I won’t do it even if I die!
Woo firmly resolved to ‘absolutely defend the 20-year reign.’
- In that case, I must solve that communication problem no matter what! The fortunate thing is that the future Grand Emperor Emeritus (Hyang) and Emperor Emeritus (Wan) are by my side. I must not miss this golden opportunity.
***
[Translator’s Notes]
Hierarchy of Emperor Titles
- Venerable Emperor: Sejong, the founder of Great Han Empire. This title is designated only to Sejong.
- Grand Emperor Emeritus: TBA. Soon-to-be. Hyang will receive this title once Woo ascend the throne replacing Hyeon, current Emperor.
- Emperor Emeritus: Hyang
- Grand Emperor: Wan
- Emperor: Hyeon
- Crown Prince: Woo