Black Corporation: Joseon

After some time, the duty room where Seong Sam-mun’s group was staying became full.

The officials who had taken light baths gathered around a small table for casual conversation.

Though exhaustion filled their eyes, few officials missed these opportunities for conversation.

Since they gathered regardless of department, it was a precious opportunity to hear stories from departments other than their own. By carefully collecting stories that emerged from such gatherings, one could grasp overall trends, and only those who could piece these together successfully could rise in rank.

“I’m getting a bit hungry… How about ordering some late-night food?”

As Han Myeong-hoe patted his stomach and suggested this to those around him, Gwon Ram checked the clock and shook his head.

“It’s too late. What a shame.”

“Oh dear…”

As Han Myeong-hoe, who had first brought it up, was clicking his tongue, Yi Gae, who was sitting with them, carefully spoke up.

“I have some salami I got from Area 51 today, would you like to try it?”

“Salami!”

The moment Yi Gae’s words fell, Gwon Ram and others’ eyes sparkled fiercely.

“I’ve heard much about it! It’s a food made by the Western glassmakers working in Area 51, said to be quite a delicacy!”

Everyone nodded at Gwon Ram’s words.

Yi Gae reached into his official robe’s sleeve hanging by the bed and pulled out a paper-wrapped package, placing it on the table as he continued.

“To be precise, it’s food made jointly by those Westerners and the monks at the research institute. It’s similar to sundae from the northern regions, and while it’s quite salty, it has an excellent flavor.”

“Is that so?”

As they listened to Yi Gae’s explanation, the officials’ eyes fixed on the paper package, their mouths already watering.

The knot binding the paper was undone, and inside the opened paper lay thinly sliced salami that had been lightly grilled.

“Please try some.”

“Thank you!”

The officials who put the thin slices of salami in their mouths soon nodded in approval.

“Indeed, quite a delicacy.”

“Makes me crave soju.”

“Mulberry wine would pair well too.”

Amid the praise, Gwon Ram concluded:

“Now I see why His Majesty praised it.”

***

Among foreigners who came to Joseon, Raphael and Pietro were living the most successful lives.

‘We need glassmakers.’

The two men, whom Mansur had brought from Alexandria’s slave market at Hyang’s request, were freed from slavery and soon became key figures in the royal glass workshop established in Area 51.

Recognized for the importance of their skills, they received not only salaries but also shares, and soon amassed considerable wealth.

As time passed, the two men found themselves having to choose their future path.

“The promised ten years are almost up…”

“Indeed they are.”

Pietro and Raphael contemplated their future with serious expressions.

Whether to put down roots in Joseon or return home.

They would lack nothing if they settled in Joseon. They had built close relationships with Joseon’s glassmakers, speaking comfortably with them, and had accumulated substantial wages and dividends from their shares.

If they settled here, they were guaranteed an environment where they could live without wanting for anything.

Conversely, returning home meant starting over from scratch. Though their saved funds could ease initial hardships in opening a shop, they would still have to deal with local resistance.

That was thinking optimistically – if things went wrong, they might be confined in the deepest part of Murano Island and forced to reveal their newly learned techniques for free.

Finally, after various considerations, Pietro and Raphael firmly decided to remain in Joseon. Surprisingly, Raphael was the first to suggest this decision.

“Ah, forget it! Neither of us has any family in Venice, so let’s just consider this our home!”

Pietro nodded at the decision of Raphael, who had such great interest in the outside world that the Joseon expression ‘having wanderlust in the blood’ suited him well, and who had quite the playboy tendencies.

“That would be better. As you say, we have no family in Venice, and there’s no guarantee we’d succeed if we returned.”

Having firmed their resolve, the two men told Hyang their decision.

“Such a difficult decision! Well done!”

After praising the two men, Hyang immediately informed Sejong.

Though their influence had decreased considerably from the beginning, it was still good news that glassmakers with the highest skills would settle in Joseon.

Hearing the news, Sejong immediately summoned the two men.

“It’s no easy thing to leave one’s homeland and settle in a strange land far away, but you’ve made such a difficult decision – truly commendable!”

Sejong praised the two with a pleased expression before continuing.

“I hear neither of you have family names. Is this true?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Then would you accept family names from me?”

“It would be our honor!”

As the two men accepted with great joy, Sejong contemplated briefly before speaking.

“First, Raphael. You have always led as head of the craftsmen, so I grant you the surname Choe (最), meaning ‘supreme.'”

“This is the honor of my lifetime!”

“And Pietro, you have always sought new and superior things, so I grant you the surname Go (高), meaning ‘high.'”

“We are overwhelmed by your grace!”

The two men, receiving family names from Sejong, bowed deeply in profound gratitude. They were especially moved because he hadn’t simply given them names but chose characters with meanings suited to each of them.

Watching this scene from the side, Hyang muttered internally:

Put them together and it’s ‘supreme high’?

Thus were born the Hanyang Choe and Hanyang Go clans, which would go on to produce world-class talents in the glass and ceramic industries.

***

Having decided to settle in Joseon, the two men soon established families.

And even in this process, the two showed completely opposite approaches.

“What an ox of a friend!”

“So old-fashioned!”

Receiving such evaluations from those around him, Raphael formally sent a matchmaker to the home of a woman he had been quietly interested in.

Most Joseon people around Raphael and Pietro were craftsmen and lower officials working in Area 51 and the royal workshops, so their families were also well acquainted with Raphael and Pietro. There were quite a few young women who had developed feelings for Raphael and Pietro with their exotic appearances.

The home where Raphael sent the matchmaker was also that of such a craftsman, and since his daughter also had feelings for Raphael, the two soon set an auspicious date for their wedding.

And when Hyang attended as a guest, it became a grand celebration.

Conversely, Pietro had to make his choice while surrounded by male relatives of a woman whose boundaries he had crossed.

“I’m telling you, we just held hands!”

As Pietro protested his innocence while the men glared at him menacingly with clubs in their hands, the woman’s father pointed to a straw mat and said:

“Choose. Do you want to be rolled in that mat, or have your wedding ceremony on it?”

Faced with life and death, Pietro ultimately chose marriage.

***

After establishing their families, the two men recalled the foods of their homeland they had been trying to forget. Or rather, these memories had become even more intense since they decided not to return.

“Though Joseon food is delicious, sometimes I crave the tastes of home.”

“Should we show our wives the taste?”

As they discussed remembering their homeland’s flavors they had been forcibly forgetting, they soon reached one conclusion.

“It has to be salami, right?”

“Yes, salami. The ingredients are easy to get here in Joseon, and with kilns everywhere, we can adapt the process.”

The two wiped the saliva from their mouths as they talked.

“Slurp! When you bite into well-smoked salami loaded with garlic and pepper…”

“Ahh!”

Though the two men thus united in purpose soon began making salami, the work wasn’t easy. Both were glassmakers, not salami makers, after all.

As they pondered this problem, they soon found a solution in the monks who had come to Area 51 on assignment from the research institute.

The monks, who practiced self-sufficiency, knew how to make salami, and with their help, they completed their product.

“This is premium-grade salami that would be hard to find even in Florence!”

At the monks’ praise of their result, the two men immediately presented the salami to Hyang and Sejong.

“Truly a delicacy!”

This was high praise from Sejong, acknowledged by all as an expert on meat dishes. And Sejong didn’t stop there.

“Since it’s virtuous to share delicious things, consider mass production.”

“We receive your command.”

As the two men left after receiving Sejong’s order, Hyang stopped them.

“Hey.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Can you also make butter or cheese?”

At Hyang’s question, the two men scratched their heads and answered:

“We can make them. We know somewhat how, and the monks know how to make them.”

“But the problem is cows. It would be much easier with dairy cows.”

“So you can do it if I get you dairy cows?”

“Yes.”

“I see. I’ll handle that part, so you prepare everything else.”

“What? What? Whaat?”

“Good luck!”

“But, Your Highness!”

Though Raphael and Pietro called after Hyang with dumbfounded expressions, he had already disappeared into the distance.

Returning to his office, Hyang was gleeful.

We have salami! With cheese, we can make pizza! Pizza!

Hyang was excited, completely forgetting about tomatoes, the most important ingredient of the pizza he had eaten in the 21st century.

This was how Choe-Go Foods, the world’s oldest food processing company, came to be born.

***

Of course, the birth of Choe-Go Foods was still in the future, and for now, salami remained a “word-of-mouth food known only to those in the know” that could only be eaten by entering Area 51.

Though of course, Sejong could have it appear on his table with just an order.

That’s why the officials in the duty room had eaten the salami so eagerly.

“Wait a minute?”

Gwon Ram, who had been enthusiastically eating salami, suddenly put it down and looked at Yi Gae.

“Section Chief Yi, didn’t you say you belong to the Ministry of Finance?”

“That’s right.”

“Then why were you at Area 51? Surely not…”

As Gwon Ram made a questioning expression, Han Myeong-hoe and Sin Suk-ju’s faces turned pale as they suddenly clutched their chests.

“Ack! It’s stuck!”

“Koff! Koff!”

After this small commotion settled down, Yi Gae spoke up.

“What Section Chief Gwon is thinking is probably correct. A new item has been created in Area 51. Though it’s a seasonal product, its commercial value is excellent.”

“How excellent?”

“The higher-ups are seriously deliberating whether the royal workshop should monopolize sales or release it to the private sector.”

“Oh no…”

“Damn it…”

At Yi Gae’s answer, everyone in the room quietly cursed.

Being “under deliberation” meant the possibility of monopolized sales was very high. This meant that starting from the costs of building workshops for production, large-scale budgets would be executed, and they would have to worry about how to secure their budgets.

Additionally, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, where Sin Suk-ju and Han Myeong-hoe worked, had the added bonus of having to deal with diplomatic documents and envoys – especially from Ming – that would soon arrive.

“Just what is this newly made item?”

To Gwon Ram’s question, Yi Gae answered briefly:

“They call it a wind frame.”

“Wind frame?”

The item known as an electric fan in the 21st century had finally made its appearance.