NOVGO.NET Chapter 468 : Founding the Nation (2)
Chapter 468: Founding the Nation (2)
Every time the masters clashed, shards of Force Qi scattered in all directions, and the ground of the already ruined Inner Palace exploded anew.
Watching the spectacular martial bout, Il-mok had only one thought.
‘Well, this actually works out perfectly.’
He realized that if playing the diplomat ever got too annoying in the future, he could just throw the arguing parties into a makeshift fighting ring and call it a day. Before he knew it, the unhinged logic of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult had completely rubbed off on him.
As Il-mok stood there watching a literal deathmatch with the bored expression of a man waiting in line, the duel between Hyeokryeon Cheon-gang and the Beggar King reached its climax.
It was an old zealot versus an old beggar.
Thanks to the relentless shockwaves and fragments of Force Qi scattering in every direction, both of their outfits had been shredded into rags. You couldn’t even tell which one of them was the genuine beggar at this point.
With bodies covered in sweat and dirt, it was safe to say the fight had equalized them looked absolutely wretched at this moment.
The two old men lunged once more, unleashing a vicious barrage of sword strikes and palm strikes against each other, causing another thunderous detonation.
As swirling sand and dust obscured the battlefield, a sudden blur of motion cut through the air.
Pat!
Wi Jin-hak burst into sudden motion using his lightness skill and cut through the swirling cloud of dust.
A heartbeat later, a gust of wind blew the debris away.
The Beggar King had been pushed back about ten feet from the initial point of collision and was on his knees, while Hyeokryeon Cheon-gang’s strike was stopped by Wi Jin-hak using his own body.
"The Minister of Education wins this bout. Minister of Welfare, accept your defeat," Wi Jin-hak announced.
Hearing that, Hyeokryeon Cheon-gang drew a single steadying breath and sheathed his sword. The Beggar King, however, gritted his teeth and glared with bloodshot eyes.
'To think my martial arts are too lacking to be of aid to the beggars!!!'
As both the Minister of Welfare and the former Dragon Head of the Beggars’ Gang, he felt a sense of inadequacy that almost brought him to tears. He struggled to keep his tears from falling and fixed his gaze on a certain someone.
"Your Majesty! Grant this subject one more chance!"
Wi Jin-hak frowned at the outburst before sighing, "The match was entirely without foul play. Clinging to lingering regrets is an unbecoming sight. If you truly cannot let it go, why not recover from your internal injuries over the coming months and challenge him again?"
But what came out of the Beggar King’s mouth was really something else.
"The chance I speak of is not a rematch with the Minister of Education, Your Majesty!"
"???"
While Wi Jin-hak and the other spectators wore equally puzzled expressions, the Beggar King turned toward the man whose eyes he had just met and shouted.
"From the very beginning, this entire ordeal only occurred because the Minister of Finance rejected our demands! Therefore, I hereby request a formal duel with the Minister of Finance!"
Naturally, every gaze in the vicinity shifted to Zhuge Mun.
In a cabinet entirely populated by terrifying martial arts masters, Zhuge Mun occupied the very bottom of their ranks in terms of martial skill. Obviously, his face immediately drained of color after hearing that.
***
Whether by fortune or misfortune, the deathmatch between the Beggar King and Zhuge Mun never came to pass. It wasn't because Zhuge Mun had conceded, nor because of the Beggar King's internal injuries.
Rather, it was because Wi Jin-hak used his authority as the Holy Emperor to mediate.
"However much our Divine Cult's doctrine venerates the martial path, to permit something plainly wrong simply because one possesses greater strength is unacceptable. That is nothing more than the strong oppressing the weak and that is evil."
"!?"
The Beggar King, who had literally just been bullied by someone stronger, shot the Emperor a sour look. However, Wi Jin-hak graciously ignored the blatant disrespect and proceeded with his lecture as if he perfectly understood the beggar's frustration.
"If the national treasury were overflowing with gold and the Minister of Finance were just being stingy, I would roll out a decree to provide you with greater funding. But if the coffers are truly empty, then the man is just doing his job and can't be blamed. And given that the Grand Preceptor had left the mediation entirely to me, it seems safe to assume that there is no falsehood in the Minister of Finance’s claims.”
Wi Jin-hak’s ruling was straightforward. When both sides presented equally sound arguments, the dispute would be settled through a martial duel. But when one side's reasoning was clearly superior, there would be no duel at all and the decision would simply favor the stronger argument.
That was the gist of Wi Jin-hak's pronouncement.
Having been spared a life-and-death duel thanks to the Holy Emperor taking his side, Zhuge Mun felt a bead of cold sweat trickle down his back.
It wasn't simply because he had barely survived today.
'…I must prepare more thoroughly from here on.'
Today's situation made him realize that the moment he failed to crush the opposition with overwhelming logic, he would be dragged onto the sparring platform. Thanks to the Divine Cult’s psychotic culture and the fact that all the cushy government jobs had been handed to war heroes, every single department head was a walking weapon of mass destruction.
For Zhuge Mun, a man whose talents lay more in the mind than in martial power, there was not a single opponent he could defeat in a sparring match.
'Or perhaps…should I begin learning Demonic Arts from this point on…?'
For Zhuge Mun, today was an exceptionally depressing day.
***
In the wake of the sparring match between the Beggar King and Hyeokryeon Cheon-gang, a peculiar atmosphere began to permeate the ranks of the Hong Dynasty's bureaucracy.
Even though every single one of them was currently drowning in the administrative hell of building a brand-new empire from scratch, their to-do list had one new item.
"Hah!"
Nowadays, the moment a Minister finishes delegating paperwork, they would immediately march out to the training grounds to hone their martial arts.
The entire cabinet had experienced a collective epiphany.
If they wanted a bigger slice of the limited time, manpower, and budget, they needed the physical strength to beat it out of their colleagues.
Then one day, two officials from the Ministry of Education approached Hyeokryeon Cheon-gang in the middle of his martial arts practice.
After patiently listening to both of their arguments, the Minister of Education nodded sagely.
"Hmm. Both arguments appear to have merit. Very well, let us handle this as His Majesty the Emperor has instructed. Draw your weapons. Fight."
Seconds later, the peaceful courtyard outside the Ministry of Education was completely drowned out by screaming and the frantic sparking of clashing steel.
As the old proverb goes, if the upper beam is crooked, the lower beam will also be crooked.
Whenever the officials found themselves deadlocked over an issue that reason alone couldn't settle, they had developed the habit of defaulting on settling it through a duel.
And little by little, that madness spread through the entire Hong Dynasty.
***
The Inner Palace of the Forbidden Palace had long since fallen into ruin, but these days it was filled with clashes of steel and battle cries from dawn to dusk.
As Il-mok strolled through the palace grounds, he glanced over a crumbling wall into the abandoned district beyond and could only shake his head.
In the fading light of evening, the officials of the various ministries were training their martial arts without pause.
It had become the latest craze.
Once they had finished most of the day's assignment, they would gather in the abandoned Inner Palace and train until the evening before going home.
Somehow, this bizarre routine had become the norm.
Standing next to Il-mok and taking in the same view, Jin Hayeon opened her mouth, "It's admirable that they continue to cultivate their martial skills despite how busy they are with their official duties."
Il-mok resisted the urge to sigh.
He had almost forgotten she was a brainwashed cult fanatic, too.
"My only worry is whether they've actually finished their work before doing all that training. At this rate, the entire government is going to ditch their paperwork to become full-time martial artists."
And as ever the devoted member of the Demonic Cult, Jin Hayeon answered Il-mok's grumbling with an answer befitting of a zealot.
"It doesn't seem to be entirely without merit. If anything, hasn't our bureaucratic efficiency actually skyrocketed?"
Il-mok could not deny it.
Whenever an issue arose that was too ambiguous to decide, no one bothered to postpone it for another round of deliberation. Instead, the officials simply settled by throwing punches at each other.
As absurd as the practice was, it had dramatically improved the pace of government.
Granted, there was the occasional inconvenience of an official collapsing from life-threatening injuries before making it back to work, but that was a trifling matter.
"Ahem. Then I suppose His Majesty must have foreseen all of this when he made the decision."
Since speaking ill of the situation any further would amount to speaking ill of the Emperor, so Il-mok wisely just went along with her opinion.
Jin Hayeon gave him a soft smile, “Do not worry too much, Your Excellency. After all, our pavilion staff always manages to find time for martial arts practice without ever letting it interfere with our duties to you.”
She glanced knowingly toward Jeong Hyeon and Hyeokryeon Seon-ah, who stood behind them as she spoke. Seeing how much Jin Hayeon had mellowed out over the years brought a faint smile to Il-mok's face as he looked at the two girls.
"Fair point. When I look at Miss Jeong and Seon-ah, I suppose I really shouldn't be so critical of the others."
Jeong Hyeon instantly ducked her head in embarrassment at the praise while Seon-ah just beamed back at him.
Basking in the wholesome atmosphere, Il-mok finally turned his back from the sweat-soaked fight club and strolled back to his own office.
But the second he stepped through his gates, his good mood soured.
An unexpected visitor was already waiting for him.
The man, who likewise spotted Il-mok, cried out urgently.
"I pay my respects to the Grand Preceptor!" It was Baek Un-hak, the newly appointed Minister of Foreign Affairs.
And his face was a swollen mess.
"What brings you here?" Il-mok asked politely.
His inner monologue, however,
Especially after getting beaten black and blue first thing this morning.
But he wisely kept the rest of the thought to himself.
The story behind Baek Un-hak's current tragic face was hilariously straightforward.
Determined to spread the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult’s glorious doctrine and illustrious history throughout the world, Baek Un-hak had drawn up an ambitious campaign that required a massive amount of manpower and funding.
Obviously, the Minister of Finance rejected the proposal without looking twice and even Wi Jin-hak took on Zhuge Mun’s side this time.
But even after getting a ‘No’ from the Holy Emperor himself, Baek Un-hak still flew into a fit and continued demanding additional funding.
In the end, Wi Jin-hak could only placate him by saying,
—Our treasury is short on funds at the moment, so we cannot simply allocate more money to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. If you truly believe it's necessary, discuss the matter with the Ministry of Education, which currently receives the largest share of funding.
The "discussion" he referred to was naturally referring to settling the matter through martial arts.
And so, after dozens of exchanges, the duel came to an end with Baek Un-hak suffering a crushing defeat at the hands of Hyeokryeon Cheon-gang.
As Il-mok recalled the events of that morning, a thought suddenly crossed his mind.
‘Was the doctrine thing just an excuse? Maybe His Majesty the Emperor simply couldn't be bothered mediating another argument between his ministers.’
While Il-mok quietly questioned Wi Jin-hak's true intentions, Baek Un-hak suddenly shouted at him.
"Lend me some of your wisdom, Grand Preceptor!"
"My wisdom? What sort of wisdom do you mean?"
“Think about it, Grand Preceptor! Just picture the glorious sight of all the multitudes of the world singing praises of the greatness of the Heavenly Demons! What a beautiful sight that would be!”
Il-mok’s entire body shuddered. Just picturing it was enough to send chills down his spine.
"Aha! I knew it! You are of the same mind as me, Grand Preceptor! As expected of the man who personally mentored my son! Hahaha! Then please, share some of your wisdom so that this wish may be fulfilled!"
Il-mok could already feel a migraine brewing behind his eyes. Knowing that talking to this lunatic for too long would only cause brain damage, he decided to cut straight to the chase.
"And what sort of wisdom do you need from me?"
The answer that came back was one that derailed Il-mok's train of thought.
"I need you to tell me how to mass-produce gunpowder."
"…Come again?" Il-mok stared at the Minister as if the man had lost his mind.
Okay, he always knew Baek Un-hak was crazy, but he hadn't realized the man's madness had progressed to this extent.
Oblivious to Il-mok's inner turmoil, Baek Un-hak continued babbling.
"If I'd had the Wooden-Boxed Thunder Bomb, this morning's fight wouldn't have ended in such a pathetic defeat! Do you have any idea how many military merits this Baek Un-hak achieved in Sichuan using those explosives?"
He must have been incredibly salty about getting beaten up this morning.
Before Il-mok could even respond, Baek Un-hak had morphed into a broken record that only talked about the grenades.
"And it's not just for winning fights! If I combine my hidden weapon techniques with high explosives, I can paint the sky with gorgeous fireworks! If we want to properly 'enlighten' the ignorant heathens who won’t embrace our Divine Cult, we need explosives, Grand Preceptor! Tons and tons of explosives!"
Listening to this pyromaniac priest ramble on, Il-mok couldn’t help but rub his temples and let out a weary sigh.
"Haah."
Seriously, what the fuck did the people in this damned cult think he was?
A magical genie? A walking 3D printer?
He was a humanities major who used to stamp paperwork in a government office! Why and how the fuck would he know the chemical formula for industrial-scale gunpowder manufacturing?!
When he finally opened his eyes again, the madman was staring at him with desperation.
There wasn't a trace of doubt in Baek Un-hak’s gaze.
He believed in his cause with absolute conviction.
Il-mok knew at that moment that if he just told the man 'no' and sent him away, Baek Un-hak would really go rogue and blow up half the capital by the end of the week.
"Minister Baek, I agree with your sentiment regarding the spreading of our Divine Cult’s teaching. However, as the saying goes, a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”
Desperate to defuse the walking time bomb standing in front of him, Il-mok hastily grasped at the first idea that came to mind.
"Rather than using gunpowder, why not try this?"