Black Corporation: Joseon [EN]: Chapter 96

Jjangra

Hello, Bomb!

96. Coward Certification (2)

The glass artisans brought by the Ottabi family were heading to Area 51 under the guard of soldiers.

“How did this happen? Why am I with you…”

The taller of the two artisans glared at his companion with a look of utter injustice.

However, the smaller artisan, the target of the complaint, replied with a relaxed expression.

“Well, it was a bit tough on the body, but I’m in a country I’ve never seen before, right? Maybe I can escape from being just another common craftsman in narrow Murano [a Venetian island known for glassmaking] and turn my life around!”

“You jerk! Is this a good thing? Is it? The probability of ruining my life is higher than turning it around!”

“Wow, Raphael, the great, is swearing? Wow! That alone makes it worth coming all the way here!”

“To think I call that jerk a friend… Lord… How did I end up with someone like that…”

Tall Raphael grumbled, looking up at the sky. Then, his companion patted him on the shoulder and said.

“Don’t be too hard on it. We’ve known each other since we were eight years old.”

“Damn it!”

* * *

Raphael and his companion Pietro had become friends on the island of Murano.

They met while apprenticing at the renowned glass artisan guild of Murano and had become childhood friends.

After enduring a grueling apprenticeship, the two, now in their early twenties, were recognized as journeymen [skilled workers who have completed an apprenticeship].

“Pietro is 23, and Raphael is 22, right?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Becoming a journeyman at that age is not easy. It means you both have talent and have worked hard. Congratulations.”

“Thank you, Master.”

The two bowed their heads at the guild master’s praise.

“You both can read, can’t you?”

“Yes, Master.”

At their answer, the guild master handed them a wax-sealed letter.

“Breaking with past tradition, our guild has decided to revive the tradition of journeyman travel. This is a letter of introduction to the glass guild master in Florence. Go to Florence and gain experience.”

“Understood.”

“Thank you!”

At the guild master’s command, Raphael answered with a calm face, while Pietro answered loudly with a bright expression.

The guild master, watching Pietro’s reaction, turned to Raphael.

“Raphael, the reason we’re sending you two together this time is because of that guy. Pietro, that guy is skilled but too frivolous. I’m worried he might cause an accident or get into one. I want you to guide him well.”

At the guild master’s words, Raphael asked with a slightly distressed look.

“Does it have to be me?”

“He listens to you the best, doesn’t he?”

“…Understood.”

That was how their journeyman journey began. When deciding on a route using a map, Raphael simply chose a land route, but Pietro insisted on a sea route.

“Why go through the mountains with so much difficulty? Let’s go to Genoa and take a ship! It’s a bit of a detour, but we can get there faster!”

“What if we get caught by pirates?”

“Is it safe to go by land? What about the bandits? The odds are fifty-fifty anyway. Let’s just take a ship from Genoa, and use the extra time to sightsee! I heard there’s a lot to see in Genoa, Pisa, and Florence!”

“Should we?”

Raphael was also tempted by Pietro’s last words. Raphael was also frustrated, having been confined to Murano Island for over 15 years.

In the end, the two took a ship from Genoa. And unfortunately, they were caught by pirates and sold as slaves in Alexandria.

* * *

“Pietro, aren’t you worried about Alexandria or here?”

“Worried? What good does it do to worry in advance?”

“Sigh~.”

Raphael sighed deeply at Pietro’s optimistic answer.

“Man! Even those fierce pirates treated us well because we were glass artisans! Look how they took off our handcuffs and shackles as soon as we got here! Do you think they’ll treat us like slaves?”

“That’s true, but…”

“Cheer up! We came to the ‘Orient’ [a historical term for East Asia] that we’ve only heard about! The Orient!”

“Damn Marco Polo’s Travels…”

Raphael cursed when Pietro mentioned the ‘Orient’. One of the things that helped him endure the hard labor during his apprenticeship was ‘The Travels of Marco Polo’ [a 13th-century travelogue]. The two forgot their fatigue while imagining the distant exotic lands mentioned in the book.

Raphael, who had been grumbling at the word ‘Orient’, suddenly glared at Pietro.

“You! Did you do this on purpose?”

“No! Even I wouldn’t gamble like that!”

Pietro, strongly denying Raphael’s words, turned his gaze around and exclaimed.

“Hey! There are beauties here too! A lot of them! Hey! Hey! Raphael! Look at this road! They paved the road with cementum [Latin for cement or mortar]!”

“Huh?”

At Pietro’s words, Raphael looked down.

“This is…”

Raphael examined the road with surprised eyes. It was not paved with stones, but a smooth road with a tremendous width stretched out.

It was a road that he could never see in Italy, where he lived. Even the Appian Way [an ancient Roman road], which he had only heard about, was certainly not this wide and flat.

“Did we really arrive in the Orient? Is this Zipangu [an old European name for Japan]?”

Raphael looked up and examined various parts of Hanseong [old name for Seoul, South Korea].

* * *

Arriving at Area 51, the two waited for Hyang in a small room.

“I’m hungry…”

Pietro, feeling hungry, opened the door, and the soldier guarding the door glared at them with fierce eyes.

“Hey! Me, hungry!”

Pietro pointed to his mouth with his finger, rubbed his stomach, and gestured to explain his business.

The soldier, seeing Pietro’s gestures, said something to the soldier standing next to him and left.

After a while, the soldier returned with a large tray covered with a cloth.

“Gratias [Latin for thanks].(Thank you.)”

Pietro, receiving the tray from the soldier, lightly expressed his gratitude and brought the tray inside.

“This smells good?”

Pietro sniffed and smelled the tray, then removed the cloth covering the tray.

“Is it fried food? Judging by the size and shape, is it fish?”

Pietro frowned at Raphael’s assessment, who had approached after smelling the food.

“Oh no… I don’t like fish… It reminds me of painful memories from Murano…”

During his apprenticeship, when he was hungry, he would go to the nearby coast and fish to eat until he was sick of it.

While Pietro hesitated, Raphael picked up a fried piece and took a bite.

“It’s chicken? It’s delicious!”

“Chicken?”

The two devoured the fried chicken on the tray in an instant. At that moment, the two completely forgot where they were and what their situation was.

It was the moment when the two became addicted to fried chicken.

* * *

“What did you say?”

Hyang, who had finished trading with the Ottabi family and returned to Area 51, widened his eyes at the absurd report.

“Is it true?”

“It’s true. The two of them ate eight fried chickens combined.”

“Huh… Did the Ottabi family bring these people here starving?”

Hyang was dumbfounded.

Honestly, even ordinary Joseon [historical Korean kingdom] people ate one fried chicken by themselves. People who ate well ate two, and some even ate three occasionally. But four was an unprecedented record.

Anyway, Hyang, entering his office in Area 51, called Raphael and Pietro. And he asked Hassan, who followed, to translate.

“I know Latin, but I’m not good at it, so I’d like Hassan Hundo to take on the translation.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Good. Did you enjoy the meal?”

Through Hassan, the two nodded with satisfied expressions at Hyang’s question.

“It was a very excellent meal.”

“I’m glad you were satisfied. Then, let’s talk about your future in earnest.”

Hearing Hyang’s words through Hassan, the two looked at Hyang with tense faces.

“First of all, I want to tell you that you are not slaves.”

“Thank you!”

At Hyang’s words, the two, especially Raphael, expressed their sincere gratitude.

“What you two will do in our Joseon is to teach and supervise how to make glass. The term of service is initially 10 years. After that, we will negotiate again. Any objections?”

“Is it initially 10 years? What about after that?”

“We will either renew the contract or let you return to your hometown.”

“Will you really let us return to our hometown?”

At Raphael’s question, Hassan immediately answered.

“His Royal Highness the Crown Prince always keeps his promises. And if he wasn’t going to keep his promises, he wouldn’t have released you as free men.”

After pondering for a moment at Hassan’s explanation, Raphael answered first.

“Okay. Since we have to rely on the goodwill of the Joseon prince anyway, we have no choice.”

“…I agree too.”

Since Raphael, who was always cautious, made a decision first, Pietro had no choice but to follow.

“They agree to the contract.”

At Hassan’s translation, Hyang moved on to the next topic.

“The next thing is perhaps the most important. How much salary did you receive?”

At Hyang’s question, Pietro immediately answered.

“It was 8 silver ducats [historical European currency]!”

At Pietro’s answer, Raphael looked at Pietro with surprised eyes. In reality, their salary was 2 silver ducats per month.

‘You crazy bastard!’

Raphael cursed Pietro inwardly. Raphael could understand why Pietro said that.

This country of the Orient needed glass artisans, so they brought them here.

They were recognized as free men, and it was certain that they would be paid a monthly salary, so Pietro thought it was a golden opportunity and exaggerated the amount.

‘What if they find out it’s a lie! How could you think of exaggerating in this situation! You crazy bastard!’

Raphael kept gesturing with his eyes, but Pietro was smiling and making a face that it was okay.

“What level is 8 silver ducats?”

At Hyang’s question, Hassan paused to recall.

“It’s been a long time since I left my hometown, so it’s hard to compare, but according to my childhood memories, the salary a skilled artisan received was 4 silver ducats in ducats.”

“How long has it been since you left your hometown?”

“It’s been 20 years.”

“Hmm…”

‘Considering inflation… Still, considering their age… Is it a bluff? It’s a bluff.’

Convinced that it was a bluff, Hyang looked at the two without saying a word. Unlike the tall man who kept rolling his eyes and fidgeting, the short man was smiling and looking at Hyang.

Hyang, looking at the two, made a decision.

“4 silver nyang [Korean currency].”

At Hyang’s decision, Hassan immediately translated and told the two.

“4 silver nyang. That’s 4 silver ducats in ducats.”

“8 silver…”

As Pietro continued to insist on 8 silver ducats, Raphael interrupted.

“4 ducats! Good! We’ll do it for 4 ducats!”

“They’ll do it for 4 ducats.”

Hyang nodded at Hassan’s words.

“Good. Then let’s draw up a contract.”

As the contract, written in both Chinese characters and Latin, was drawn up, Pietro and Raphael carefully read the contract.

“Is the content really the same on both sides?”

“It is.”

After pondering for a moment at Hassan’s answer, Raphael reached out his hand.

“Give me a pen.”

As Hassan took out a gold pen at Raphael’s words, Hyang interjected.

“Ah, there is an additional condition. You must learn our Joseon language within 3 months. Until then, we will pay you 2 silver nyang per month. If you don’t learn it within 3 months? Then we will only pay you 1 silver nyang per month until you learn it.”

“Isn’t that too much?”

As Raphael argued, Hyang answered directly without translation.

“Should I or Hassan Hundo follow you around and translate everything?”

“….”

Instead of Raphael, Pietro stepped forward at Hyang’s words.

“What if we learn it faster than 3 months?”

At Pietro’s words, Hyang burst into laughter.

“Are you confident?”

“Don’t we have to try to know?”

“If you learn our Joseon language faster than 3 months, I’ll give you an extra 1 silver nyang per month.”

As soon as Hyang finished speaking, Pietro handed Hassan the paper.

“Write down that condition too!”

With the signing and sealing of the revised contract, Pietro and Raphael returned to their assigned rooms.

“Hassan Hundo, please take care of them for the time being.”

“I will obey your command, Your Highness. However…”

“What are you worried about?”

“Isn’t 4 silver nyang per month too much? That’s the salary for a Jeong9-品 [lowest rank in the Joseon dynasty] official who is currently in management.”

At Hassan’s point, Hyang replied with a nonchalant face.

“Their skills are worth that much. And we just need to extract that much value from them, right?”

At that moment, Hassan felt sorry for the two Italians.