Chapter 242

The year was 1633.

It had not been long since the Jewish people crossed mountains and rivers to begin their full-scale settlement and development of “Salem.” Nor had it been long since the tribes bordering the Continental Covenant’s great highway had suddenly, and somewhat inexplicably, claimed the lineage of Abraham. Yet, despite these bizarre developments, the Continental Covenant was operating with remarkable smoothness. In fact, it was prospering as never before.

This newfound wealth was fueled by the resurgence of industry in Virginia and across the Covenant, driven by the staggering capital required for the transcontinental highway. Factories hummed with relentless energy to supply the massive demand for tools—from the shovels needed to break ground to the buckets and instruments required for moving earth—as well as the bricks and various materials for the cities sprouting along the route.

Each day brought an influx of people and a frantic surge in industrial growth. In Virginia alone, approximately twenty percent of the population now worked as wage laborers. To put that in perspective, the labor participation rate in early-to-mid nineteenth-century England hadn’t even reached ten percent. While the total number of workers still fell short of the 1.6 million laborers in England during that era, the proportional figure was nothing short of overwhelming.

The growth was staggering. Demand for goods was overflowing in every corner of the Covenant. While millions outside Virginia still lived much as they had before—save for the introduction of iron tools—scores of people were waiting for their land grants and the assignment of agricultural knights to help them modernize. More steel, more tractors, more cotton… more of everything was needed.

The Continental Covenant was young, and its growth had been explosive. It was a Herculean task just to supply goods to the millions who had recently transitioned from hunter-gatherer lifestyles and to absorb the tens of thousands of English migrants pouring in every year. Historically, such a rapid expansion of a political entity was without precedent. And at the pinnacle of this strange, sprawling nation sat the man who had started it all…

…What should I eat today?

He was quite idle.

He was currently lounging in his massage chair at his home in Croatoan, sipping whiskey and browsing Netflix. The seat of the Continental Covenant’s government was approximately a hundred and ninety kilometers away as the crow flies. Yet, the nation continued to function perfectly well, despite its head of state spending his days drinking and digging up old movies.

In a way, it was only natural. Between his journey to Asia and his time in France trying to prevent the Thirty Years’ War, Kim Lee-sang had been away from the Covenant for nearly ten years. No matter how much of a symbol or centerpiece he was, a decade-long absence had forced the creation of administrative processes that could function without him.

And so, he enjoyed this peace.

It was 12:11 PM, and Kim Lee-sang let out a wide yawn. He glanced at the clock, then, feeling a wave of boredom, switched the tablet screen from Netflix to the live feeds of his farm and the surrounding area. On one screen, students from the Croatoan Agricultural College were toiling to improve grape varieties; on another, people were busy collecting and moving the aluminum scrap discarded from his house. It was a familiar, tranquil scene.

Save for one figure suddenly sprinting toward his house.

Watching the shadow approach, Kim Lee-sang slowly stood up and stretched. He walked to the front door and pulled it open exactly as the person reached the porch.

“···Ack!”

The aide jumped back, startled by the sudden appearance. Startling his staff was one of Kim Lee-sang’s few minor amusements.

“Ah… ahem. My apologies, sir. It’s just… a steamship is approaching the harbor······”

As of now, the only facility on the planet capable of maintaining steamships or ironclads after a long voyage was the engineering department at Croatoan University. Kim Lee-sang would occasionally greet these vessels, using the opportunity to boost the morale of the sailors returning from the deep seas.

Today seemed like another one of those days. He gave a nod, and the aide led the way to the harbor. Before long, the docks came into view. Kim Lee-sang waved a hand at the small speck growing larger on the horizon, while nearby engineers and professors raised their arms in greeting as well.

As the ship drew closer, the people on deck began to wave back. Since these were men who had endured a grueling voyage from as far as Asia, the greetings were long and enthusiastic—until······

“···Eh?”

What is that?

Kim Lee-sang rubbed his eyes. He felt as if he were seeing something that shouldn’t exist in this part of the world. As the ship drew level with the pier, the source of his confusion became clear.

“···Look! The Prince of the Covenant is here! What are you doing? Pay your respects!”

“······.”

Men wearing gat and dopo.

Even from a distance, they were unmistakably Joseon people. Kim Lee-sang turned to his side in shock, only to find the others on the dock looking just as bewildered. Once the visitors disembarked, the Joseon men approached Kim Lee-sang, their bodies trembling with emotion as they offered a deep bow.

“Your Imperial Highness, we trust you have remained in excellent health? I am but a humble servant… the Chief Envoy, Yun Seondo. By any chance, do you know where Lord Oitotan might be······?”

“······.”

“······.”

“······.”

As he watched the rambling Yun Seondo, Kim Lee-sang realized that his brief vacation—the one he had earned by distancing himself from the Thirty Years’ War and the Jewish resettlement—was officially over. Only one thought echoed in his mind.

What the hell are you guys doing here?

***

It was baffling. First, the Jews had come to the Americas searching for a holy land, and now the Joseon people had arrived as well. He began to wonder if the Continental Covenant had been listed on some “Best Sanctuary for Weak Nations” guide.

Regardless, I led them toward the Chesapeake Bay. The Covenant government was located there, and these men were, after all, an official diplomatic delegation. I took my time assessing their titles, ages, and political factions to gauge their standing.

There were no high-ranking officials. That made sense, given that in Joseon, the equation “long-distance voyage equals death” was still considered a public truth. Instead, most were members of the Namin and Seoin factions who had been pushed out of the ruling party. Moreover······

They’re all people we converted.

It seemed the Joseon authorities had decided to use their faith as a tool for diplomacy with us. Well, I suppose it was a far more generous treatment than the massacres they faced in my original history.

I had a mountain of questions, but I held them back. It would set a better precedent to gather information alongside other government officials rather than interrogating foreign envoys on my own.

However, perhaps because I had spent so much time in Joseon, they didn’t treat me with the stiff formality one might expect for a prince. Yun Seondo, in particular, was annoyingly persistent.

“Your Highness, I dare to ask… is that island truly the holy sanctuary where the Nameless One descended to renew the Universal Church?”

“···It is.”

“My heart overflows with emotion. How much greater would my joy be if I could see Him with my own eyes and offer my deepest respects?”

“······.”

To make matters worse, these people didn’t know that I was the “Nameless One.” It couldn’t be helped; I couldn’t risk word spreading in Joseon that “this man is a heretic claiming to be an angel of the Lord.”

I also had to work hard to remember the various excuses and stories I’d told them back in Joseon. It had been eight years since I left, after all.

···Yes, it had been a long time. It had been ten years since I sent the man who was supposed to be King Injo to his grave, and several years since I established the trade routes connecting Joseon, Japan, and Ming through sugar plantations and outposts on the nearby islands.

And now, Joseon officials had boarded a Covenant ship and traveled all the way to the American mainland. While they weren’t top-tier ministers, they weren’t low-ranking officials either. They had clearly been sent for a matter of great importance.

“I find myself curious as to what brought you this far,” I said. While I wouldn’t dig for formal details in private, I wanted a general sense of the situation. I invited Yun Seondo to my cabin for a meal and posed the question subtly.

“······.”

“Is something the matter?”

“Ah, no. I am simply overwhelmed by the honor of being summoned by you······”

“······.”

“······.”

And I was promptly stonewalled. Through various hints and indirect language, Yun Seondo made it clear that he “couldn’t say for now” and would “speak when the Emperor and the high officials of the Covenant were gathered.”

But more importantly, his expression was grim. It was obvious: the Joseon people hadn’t come here to deliver good news. Perhaps they had come to ask for a massive favor, or maybe something had happened that required them to gauge our reaction. I grew increasingly tense. What on earth could be so sensitive that he couldn’t even hint at the purpose of their visit?

The uncertainty filled me with unease. Had trade been cut off? Had the Ming Dynasty fallen? That can’t happen. California and Joseon are the primary channels through which the Covenant earns gold and silver.

The journey to Chesapeake was filled with minor incidents—Yun Seondo and the other Joseon men nearly fainting at the sight of a tractor, their shock at the wealth of Chesapeake, and their absolute astonishment when they heard that I had “succeeded the late Emperor and ascended the throne.” I could probably write seven web novel chapters about it, but none of it was truly important.

The only thing that mattered was the errand that had brought them halfway across the globe.

We gathered in the newly expanded Covenant government building. The envoys from Joseon, represented by Yun Seondo, bowed before us.

“Your Majesty… I dare to report. The Emperor of the Ming has issued a silk-thread decree to the Eastern Kingdom.”

Ah. Here it comes.

The moment I heard those words, both Oitotan and I felt our faces stiffen. Since the others didn’t understand Korean, Oitotan provided a brief translation, and their expressions quickly turned grave as well.

Trade in East Asia wasn’t just highly profitable; it produced enough wealth to run a small nation. That money funded our secret orders in Europe, the salvation of the Jews, and the construction of the transcontinental highway. There was a reason we spent so freely.

But now, an Imperial decree had landed in Joseon? And the envoy looked that grim? What could it be other than the severance of trade?

The good times were over. The migrants in California would find it much harder to obtain Chinese imports, and we would have to abandon the profits from gold-silver arbitrage and the dumping of Covenant goods into the Chinese market.

As everyone let out a sigh before even hearing the contents, Yun Seondo hesitantly handed us a piece of paper. It looked like a transcript of the decree. The first line was the standard formula: “The Emperor, who has received the mandate of Heaven, declares…” I skipped past that.

I also skipped the pleasantries about the prosperity of the Joseon people being due to the virtue of the King (though I highly doubted Gwanghaegun was a “virtuous monarch”). I skipped the face-saving remarks about the northern barbarians acting up because the Emperor’s virtue failed to reach the heavens or the people.

I filtered out all the fluff and read the core message······

“···Eh?”

“What does it say, Nemo?”

“······.”

“······.”

Once again, only Oitotan and I, who could read Hanmun, were frozen in place. But this time, I didn’t even know how to begin explaining it. As I stood there speechless, Oitotan finally spoke.

“‘It has come to Our attention that a propitious divine spirit has appeared in your kingdom, repelling rebels and bringing forth treasures. For the sake of the Imperial destiny, We wish to summon that spirit to the Imperial Capital. You, Our subjects, must obey with all your strength.’”

Uh······.

“······.”

“······.”

“······.”

Everyone was stunned.

Wait.

Seriously, what is this?

How the hell did they find out?