The Imperial Army Geographic Information Research Institute.
This was the official designation of the Imperial Army’s intelligence organization.
“To create maps and analyze geographic information for the Imperial Army and Navy.”
This was the stated purpose of the ‘Imperial Army Geographic Information Research Institute.’
And indeed, they actually carried out these duties.
***
Around the time when the Empire had nearly secured naval supremacy east of Suez, they formally dispatched envoys to Ming, Japan, Ryukyu, and other nations along the Empire’s trade routes to request cooperation.
“We wish to survey coastlines, potential reefs, and changes in water depth and shorelines according to tidal movements.”
Initially, the nations receiving the Empire’s request expressed reluctance. Maps and geography—especially maps—held tremendous military value.
Moreover, the coastlines and connected areas the Empire wanted to survey were problematic.
Everything the Empire proposed to investigate was related to amphibious operations.
The Empire, well aware of this, immediately offered alternatives and compensation.
“We will not advance more than 10 li (approximately 4km) inland from the coastline.”
“Officials and scholars from your nation may participate in the survey process as much as desired. All expenses will be borne by the Empire.”
“Survey results will be shared completely with the concerned nation. Maps will also be provided.”
“Hmm… This is… Ho…”
The nations receiving the Empire’s alternatives and compensation had no choice but to deliberate.
Creating maps and acquiring geographic information required significant money and manpower.
Purchasing expensive Imperial precision surveying instruments cost considerable funds, and training personnel demanded both time and money.
Despite their reluctance, most concerned nations lacked proper maps and geographic information of their own coastlines.
If an incident occurred, the best they could do was conscript local fishermen familiar with the coastal areas to serve as human maps.
Even Ming found itself in a similar situation.
While detailed maps existed around major naval ports, other regions relied on maps that were decades old at best, or over a century old at worst, or required summoning local fishermen.
However, according to rumors from merchants who had traveled on Imperial vessels, the Empire’s maps were incredibly precise.
For the Empire, possessing such precise mapmaking capabilities, to create and provide maps was an enormous temptation.
“If we observe the Empire’s mapmaking process and learn their methods, we too can produce precise maps independently!”
“If we obtain the Empire’s precise maps, we can properly identify strategic military points and strengthen our defenses!”
Eventually, all nations except Ming accepted the Empire’s proposal.
In Ming’s case, rejection was natural during Emperor Jingtai’s era, and even Emperor Chenghua, nicknamed the ‘Korean Emperor,’ had to express reluctance and refuse.
“Even as Emperor, if I accept this, rebellion will break out immediately.”
All members of the Hidden Dragon Society nodded at Emperor Chenghua’s words.
***
As most nations along the trade routes accepted the proposal, the Empire began dispatching personnel.
Even with staff from the Imperial Army and the Ministry of Land Development, it wasn’t enough, so many workers from railway construction were mobilized, with Imperial troops accompanying them for protection.
Hidden among these Imperial forces was another group.
Surveying for mapmaking and geographic information gathering wasn’t work that could be completed in a day or two.
Naturally, they had to find open spaces and water sources near survey areas where large numbers of people could stay, and Imperial Army officers participating in this process carefully memorized and secretly recorded this information.
That wasn’t all.
With large numbers staying, significant food supplies were needed, and Imperial Army transport units headed to nearby towns to purchase provisions. Similarly, Imperial Army officers carefully memorized these routes and secretly recorded them.
They gathered everything they could while adhering to the condition of ‘not advancing more than 10 li inland from the coastline.’
This wasn’t all the Empire’s hidden operatives targeted.
When the Empire began work, officials and soldiers from the host nation also participated.
Working together for extended periods, relationships began forming between people from both sides, and this was exactly what the Empire aimed for.
The participating officials and soldiers, especially military commanders, were either capable military officials or generals trusted by their monarchs, or nobility.
In other words, they were either at the core of power or would be in the future.
The goal was to build relationships with them to create pro-Empire factions or to learn about the host nation’s military trends.
Interestingly, the nations cooperating with the Empire had similar objectives.
“The Imperial personnel dispatched for mapmaking are the Empire’s talented individuals.”
“Then the Imperial Army commanders sent to protect them must also be capable.”
“If they’re capable commanders, they’re likely to advance in the future, so we should establish connections!”
“And if possible, discover Imperial Army movements, especially future weapons development or deployment, and changes in strategy and tactics!”
Host nations harboring such intentions—especially Japan—treated Imperial Army commanders with utmost hospitality.
On rest days, they invited Imperial personnel—particularly Imperial Army commanders—to banquets.
These banquets invariably featured exceptional beauties seated beside high-ranking Imperial officials to seduce them.
It was literally a banquet befitting the phrase “hiding a knife behind a smile”, where both sides concealed their true intentions while laughing and enjoying themselves.
***
While this game of mutual deception played out on one side, traditional intelligence operations were occurring elsewhere.
In regions bordering Mongolia, cavalry units and the Tiger Hunters moved covertly, observing Mongolian movements.
In the sea routes east of Suez, Imperial warships patrolled, monitoring developments around the shipping lanes.
And Imperial forces and officials stationed at trading posts regularly sent reports on local developments.
The Empire’s trading posts were located not only east of Suez but also in Suez, Alexandria, and Prince Henrik Port.
These trading posts, which provided safe facilities for Imperial merchants and stationed officials to resolve civil complaints, had evolved to serve as embassies.
Naturally, Imperial forces were deployed to protect the merchants and officials residing at these trading posts.
However, deploying Imperial forces could provoke host nations, so prior permission was required.
What was interesting was the form these trading posts took.
In regions east of Suez, they resembled grand mansions of local notables, only larger in scale with more warehouses.
However, the trading posts in Suez, Alexandria, and Prince Henrik Port were small fortresses.
The most representative was the trading post connected to the Imperial Navy base in Suez.
Meanwhile, while the Imperial Army’s intelligence organization had yet to expand beyond the southern Mediterranean, the Secret Guards were extending their reach into northern Mediterranean regions.
“Seoul Security Services.”
Through one of the Secret Guards’ front companies, they had begun advancing into the heart of Europe.
***
As time passed, the Secret Guards also underwent generational changes.
With these generational shifts, the Secret Guards began suffering from the Empire’s chronic ailment.
Lack of talent.
Most of those who initially formed the Secret Guards came from the swordsman guilds.
Though most were of illegitimate birth and had joined the guilds for that reason, they possessed considerable learning and martial arts skills.
However, the problem arose when the prohibition on illegitimate children was abolished, causing those entering the swordsman guilds to nearly disappear.
Capable individuals of illegitimate birth all entered civil service or the military, while those lingering around the guilds were all substandard.
No, beyond substandard, they were human trash at the level of ‘beyond rehabilitation even with beating.’
To solve the talent supply problem, the Secret Guards scoured not only the mainland and northern territories but also Daeseol Island and the New Territories for talented individuals.
The Secret Guards primarily targeted young martial artists who had just completed their training and were preparing to enter society, as well as mid-to-low-ranking officers from the Imperial Army.
“The problem is they’re too proud. The young ones don’t know how the world works, and the officers have too much pride…”
Eventually, after much deliberation, the Secret Guards’ leadership requested help from Hyang through the Commander of the Imperial Guards.
Receiving the Secret Guards’ request through the Imperial Guards Commander, Hyang readily nodded.
“If it’s for my safety and the Empire’s, of course I should help!”
Thus, the Secret Guards deployed their strongest card.
***
The Secret Guards’ method of acquiring talent went roughly like this:
First, after reviewing personnel evaluation lists obtained through the Imperial Guards and identifying suitable candidates, they would quietly approach them.
“Sir, would you work with us for the Empire and His Majesty?”
The reactions of recruitment targets hearing such words were largely similar.
“What nonsense is this?”
“You seem insane! I won’t report you to the police bureau! Now get lost!”
However, the Secret Guards continued their approach, and the targets’ reactions grew increasingly serious.
When deemed sufficiently primed, Secret Guards agents would extend an invitation.
“Someone wishes to see you, sir. Will you come with us?”
“…Fine. But if you’re planning any tricks, even if I die, this won’t just pass.”
“Do as you wish.”
Afterward, the person would be moved blindfolded to a Secret Guards safe house, where they would meet Hyang face to face.
“Y-Your Imperial Majesty!”
One of the Emperor’s duties was touring military units throughout the Empire or summoning meritorious units to Seoul to commend distinguished service members and console soldiers.
Thanks to this, officers with certain ranks and experience all recognized Hyang’s face, which explained their current prostration in shock.
“You may sit comfortably.”
“I-I am overwhelmed, Your Majesty.”
Once the target composed themselves, Hyang got to the point.
“I have something to ask of you.”
“Just give the command! I will complete it even if it costs my life!”
“For my safety and the Empire’s, I need you to abandon your honor.”
“Pardon?”
When the person showed confusion at Hyang’s words, a Secret Guards executive would explain the organization’s existence and mission on Hyang’s behalf.
After the executive’s explanation, Hyang would continue.
“Becoming a member of the Secret Guards means abandoning the advancement you’ve dreamed of until now. You might even have to live as a wastrel. Your colleagues will mock you, and your family will cast you out. Yet I have no choice but to ask for your help. I can only promise that I and my descendants will not forget you. I ask this of you.”
Not a single person refused Hyang’s request.
Who could refuse when the Emperor himself made a personal request?
Thus, the Secret Guards’ manpower shortage was somewhat resolved.
However, the faces of these new recruits were far from happy.
Just yesterday they had been proud officers of the Imperial Army, but starting today they had become wastrels dealing with cleanup work at pleasure houses.
Though they had prepared themselves mentally, it was too difficult to endure, and many voiced their complaints.
For these people, Hyang created the front company ‘Seoul Security Services.’