Hyang had several reasons for gathering only royal family members for this task.
The first reason was external pressure.
No matter how upright people might be, even if they were under direct imperial control, pressure from other high-ranking officials could lead to covering up existing crimes.
But those gathered now were the Emperor’s siblings laterally and his children—including the next emperor—below.
Apply external pressure to such people? That would ensure the destruction of not just oneself but one’s entire clan.
Moreover, their eldest brother and father was right there, essentially declaring “I’m watching!” or “Daddy’s not sleeping!”
This not only blocked external pressure but also inevitably increased efficiency.
The second reason was that all those gathered had expertise in calculations.
Duke Pyeongwon, Hyang’s younger brother, and Hyang’s sons Du and Seul worked in the Ministry of Defense’s budget department.
Crown Prince Wan was the same. While managing the research institute and Area 51, he spent most of his non-hobby time wrestling with various expenditure statements.
Not just them. With Princess Jeong and her husband Kim Dam, both accomplished in mathematics, joining in, every coin spent by the military before and after the last war was being meticulously recalculated.
Hyang then attached these organized numbers to the map on oiled paper.
As a result, oil papers were plastered all over the massive map hanging on one wall.
Through this work, one could grasp the approximate daily situation throughout the war just by properly examining the map.
And there, Hyang found the problem.
“Look at this?”
Pointing at numbers on the oil papers on the map, Hyang muttered with a cold smile.
“Crown Prince, come here for a moment.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Placing Wan beside him, Hyang ran his finger across oil papers in a specific region and asked:
“Doesn’t something seem strange?”
As Wan studied the numbers moving up and down the oil papers, his expression turned serious.
“Hm? This is?”
“Do you understand?”
“Yes, I do!”
At Hyang and Wan’s exchange, everyone working stopped to look at them. Seeing this, Hyang beckoned them over.
“Come hear the Crown Prince’s explanation and verify it. Especially Duke Pyeongwon, Duke Eunpyeong, and Duke Bundang must come see this.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The royal family members who approached understood the problem after hearing Wan’s explanation.
-The day after supplies arrived, reports of mass casualties followed. This left the supplies allocated for the casualties floating in air.
The problem was that such floating supplies were written off as losses across multiple battlefields.
-The same applied to military currency.
According to military law, imperial troops stationed in enemy territory regularly received set amounts of military currency based on their rank.
The problem was that casualty reports would surge the day after military currency was distributed.
Duke Pyeongwon, Du, and Seul wore shocked expressions as they confirmed the problem through Wan’s explanation. Particularly Duke Pyeongwon, who had wrestled with numbers at the Ministry of Defense throughout the war, had a face crumpled beyond shock into devastation.
“How did we miss this aspect?”
Hyang answered Duke Pyeongwon’s self-questioning lament:
“Victory or defeat was the most important thing. Focusing only on the outcome led to this happening.”
“Ah…”
After discovering the embezzlement that occurred during the war, the royal family members began investigating merit manipulation as well.
They brought out merit review records for decorations, along with documents recording battle injuries and witness testimonies verifying achievements from the Office of Records, thoroughly examining everything again.
During this process, all the royal family members working on the task had the same thought leak out simultaneously:
“Your Majesty! Please supply typewriters to the Office of Records!”
“Though written in Jeongeum, the handwriting varies so much it’s hard to read immediately. How dare they write Jeongeum in cursive! Even for officials, this is too much!”
“Indeed! For future generations to learn from current records as intended in the Office of Records’s founding purpose, they must be able to read them properly! We must rewrite everything clearly using typewriters!”
When even Wan joined in arguing that typewriters must be introduced to the Office of Records, Hyang asked with an incredulous expression:
“Do you know how much material is stored in the Office of Records?”
Wan immediately answered Hyang’s question:
“That’s for the Office of Records staff to worry about, not my concern, is it not?”
Momentarily speechless at Wan’s resolute answer, Hyang could only gape. But Wan didn’t back down.
“Considering the Office of Records’s purpose, we absolutely cannot retreat just because the quantity is large!”
“Why not wait until you ascend to the throne?”
“By then, the quantity will have increased even more. Your Majesty! Why else do we have the saying ‘Don’t miss a good opportunity’!”
Eventually, Hyang decided to introduce typewriters to the Office of Records. Of course, given the enormous volume of records, rewriting with typewriters was limited to records from the empire’s first year onward.
Even so, the volume was tremendous.
Recording all this, the court historian added:
-… Thus, His Majesty graciously accepted the Crown Prince’s petition and decided to introduce typewriters to the Office of Records.
The historian says: The purpose of leaving records in the Office of Records is for future generations to properly understand why their predecessors took certain actions and adapt them to their times. Therefore, using typewriters for easier reading by future generations is not wrong.
The historian added: I must absolutely never commit crimes related to official duties.
Though such a minor drama occurred, the royal family members participating in the work analyzed the records with utmost effort.
And they discovered about ten people who had falsified military achievements.
Receiving the report, Hyang ordered the Chief Royal Secretary:
“Summon the Prime Minister, Left and Right Deputy Prime Ministers, Minister of Defense, and Chief of Staff immediately.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
After summoning the highest officials from relevant departments, starting with Hwang Hui, Hyang handed them the report and ordered:
“Read this. We’ll talk afterward.”
After reading the report, the summoned ministers could only prostrate themselves and bow their heads.
“We were foolish and failed to notice this! Please execute us!”
“Should I really execute you?”
“…”
“Didn’t the Situation repeatedly say? If you don’t want to die, don’t commit capital crimes.”
“Please show mercy!”
After receiving a thorough dressing-down from Hyang, Hwang Hui, the Deputy Prime Ministers, Minister of Defense, and Chief of Staff proceeded with their work, burning with rage.
This began the ‘Downward Flow of Blood-Stained Discipline.’
“Why must I stay in office for life unable to submit resignation! It’s all because of bastards like these!”
Isn’t it because of your sons?
Though all subordinate officials had the same thought at Hwang Hui’s anger-filled words, none dared voice it.
Anyway, thanks to the downward flow of discipline starting from the top with Hwang Hui, those discovered faced even more severe punishment.
Particularly, Chief of Staff Lee Jing-ok argued for punishment as strongly as Hwang Hui.
“During the last war, some were suffering and rolling in mud, while these bastards were doing this behind our backs! Bring their heads before me right now! Even execution by artillery would be too good for them!”
In the end, all those caught in wrongdoing had to face severe punishment. Their entire property was confiscated, all veteran benefits revoked, and names deleted from the list of meritorious subjects. Based on the severity of their crimes, they received minimum 20-year labor sentences at Aoji and Muxun.
Thanks to the abolition of collective punishment after becoming an empire, their families avoided punishment, but only officially.
With all assets confiscated, the remaining family members were forced onto the streets. Moreover, as rumors spread through neighborhoods, all social relationships were severed. Eventually, the remaining families had no choice but to leave their homes and relocate to the Northern Territory or Great Snow Island.
While chaos erupted in Seoul, Ha Min visited Park Gyu-seop.
“Hm? Brother Ha, what brings you today?”
“Could you spare a few barrels of that alcohol?”
“Why, to sell at pleasure houses? I’ll give you a good price.”
Ha Min continued with a slight smile at Park Gyu-seop’s joke:
“Not that, I want to present it as tribute.”
“Tribute?”
“I know a thing or two about alcohol, and that drink of yours is no ordinary stuff. So I thought to present it to His Majesty. I’ll include all your names too, so please spare some.”
After brief consideration, Park Gyu-seop nodded readily.
“Let’s do it.”
After obtaining three wooden barrels from Park Gyu-seop, Ha Min muttered quietly while loading them onto a cart:
“But why is His Majesty suddenly showing interest in alcohol?”
Thus Beautiful Wine’s alcohol was delivered to Hyang.
“Hmm… A new alcohol created through the people’s ingenuity? Let’s all have a cup.”
The ministers’ expressions changed curiously after tasting Beautiful Wine’s alcohol at Hyang’s words.
“This is truly unique.”
“Though similar to soju, the flavor profile is quite different.”
“They said it was made with barley instead of rice, and it seems so.”
Nodding at the ministers’ words while emptying his cup, Hyang muttered internally:
As expected! It’s whiskey! Still needs refinement, but definitely whiskey!
After drinking a couple more cups, Hyang issued orders:
“Send craftsmen from the Office of Spirits[1] to the Northern Territory to learn this brewing method. And…”
After writing something at length on paper, applying the imperial seal and his signature, Hyang handed it to the Chief Royal Secretary.
“Deliver this letter to the craftsman who made this alcohol.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Thus two brewing craftsmen from the Office of Spirits, Hyang’s letter, and reward money arrived at Beautiful Wine.
Park Gyu-seop received Hyang’s letter and clapped Kim Bokju, who had made the alcohol in question, on the shoulder while cheering:
“You lucky bastard! Congratulations! A personal letter from His Majesty! This is the greatest of family treasures!”
However, Bokju was moved for a different reason:
“This was it! As expected of His Majesty! His Majesty properly saw what my alcohol lacked!”
The contents of Hyang’s letter were:
- Though it’s good alcohol, it’s still immature. Age it for at least 8 years.
- Consider mixing it with rice-based soju for better taste.
- How about working on the barrels for better flavor? Consider aging the alcohol in barrels that have long held fruit wine, think about it.
The contents of Hyang’s letter were solutions to issues Bokju had been pondering.
Bokju placed the letter before him, performed a deep bow, and proclaimed:
“This humble subject Kim Bokju will surely create the finest alcohol for Your Majesty!”
Thus was born what would later become a world-renowned famous alcohol- using the character for ‘drunk’[2] because it intoxicated through color, aroma, and taste.
What was called whiskey in history before Hyang’s intervention thus emerged in the empire.
And later, it would compete with Scotch whiskey over claims of originality.
“We have official records, not just legends! You don’t have those!”
Meanwhile, Ha Min continued visiting Park Gyu-seop. After confirming information about Park Gyu-seop through various means, Ha Min made a proposal one day:
“Say, Gyu-seop. Would you like to work on something with me?”
“Work? What kind?”
“Work for a greater cause.”
Park Gyu-seop snorted at Ha Min’s words.
“Hah! What great cause could the Sword Contract have?”
“It’s not just the Sword Contract.”
Park Gyu-seop’s expression changed at Ha Min’s completely altered demeanor.
“Well, let’s hear what you have to say. But you know, there’s nothing more suspicious than work claiming to be for a greater cause. Let me tell you this in advance for your sake, Brother Ha. If it’s anything that could harm His Majesty, I won’t stay quiet. If that’s the case, be prepared to die by my hand.”
Ha Min responded to Park Gyu-seop’s warning with a slight smile:
“There’s absolutely no chance of dying by your hand.”
Two months later, at a railway construction site in the Northern Territory:
“New arrival for the surveying team!”
The worker who was about to head out for surveying work stopped and came outside at news of a new arrival.
Park Gyu-seop stood where the workers gathered.
“Hello! I’m Park Gyu-seop, starting work with you today! Please take care of me!”