Black Corporation: Joseon [EN]: Chapter 449

449. The Western Barbarians Come to Joseon (6)

“What is this?”

Sejong asked, his face etched with curiosity, as he held the pencil Hyang had presented via a merchant ship.

“It is a writing tool made using *mukseok* (墨石), what we might call ‘ink stone’,” Hyang explained. [Mukseok refers to graphite, named for its resemblance to ink stones used in calligraphy.]

“*Mukseok*? Isn’t that only used as a lubricant, ground into powder?”

Hyang smiled. “It is a very useful material.”

* * *

When graphite was first discovered, Hyang’s immediate task was to name it.

“The ‘yeon’ in *Heukyeon* (흑연, graphite) uses the character for ‘lead’ (鉛). If we call it ‘lead’ now, it will cause confusion.” [Heukyeon is the Korean word for graphite, literally “black lead.”]

The name ‘Heukyeon’ was a direct translation of ‘Black Lead,’ the term used in Europe where lead was used in early writing tools.

After a moment’s thought, Hyang decided. “Considering its primary future use, let’s call it *Mukseok* (墨石).”

With the name decided, Hyang placed the graphite in the specimen room.

“*Mukseok*? Hmm….”

The researchers, Area 51 managers, and artisans tilted their heads, then nodded and continued their work.

“It’s very black and smudges easily, a fitting name.”

Thus, the name *Mukseok* was chosen. However, its initial application wasn’t what the name suggested.

The first and most practical use of graphite was as a lubricant for machinery.

Lubricating and cooling oils were scarce, so finely ground graphite was used extensively in engine parts requiring lubrication.

This even changed some idioms Hyang knew.

The phrase ‘eating oil,’ common among factory workers, became ‘eating stone powder’.

Graphite proved versatile. Besides lubrication, it was crucial in producing granular gunpowder for safer storage.

So, graphite, used in unexpected ways, was finally crafted into a pencil.

* * *

“How does one use this? Surely, you don’t expect me to dip this blunt end in ink?” Sejong asked, clearly disappointed. Hyang explained its use.

“Sharpen it with the sharpener beside it.”

“Sharpener?”

Sejong picked up the small container. Its pine resin-glazed front had a pencil-sized hole, with a small drawer underneath.

“Let’s see….”

Scratch, scratch.

Sejong inserted the pencil, twisting it. Seeing the tip sharpen, he repeated the process.

“It’s ready when the *mukseok* is pointed.”

“You tell me that now,” Sejong grumbled, finishing the sharpening. He examined the point.

“It resembles a weapon, not a writing tool.”

“It is a writing tool.”

“Hmm….”

Sejong tilted his head, then tested the pencil on paper.

“Oh!”

He admired the pencil’s feel, unlike a brush or gold pen, and quickly filled the page.

Sejong nodded, reviewing the writing.

“Good! A truly excellent tool. Especially….”

Sejong paused, looking at Kim Jeom. “The more it’s used, the more it wears down, requiring replacements, which will generate revenue.”

Kim Jeom’s eyes brightened, but he raised a concern.

“Brushes and gold pens are already popular. Will it compete?”

Before Hyang could respond, Sejong interjected.

“This tool needs no ink grinding or inkstone, making it far more convenient.”

“Ah! My thinking was limited.”

Sejong, explaining the pencil’s advantages to Kim Jeom, turned to Jo Malsaeng.

“It would be useful in the military.”

Jo Malsaeng nodded.

“I agree. Especially for commanders in the northern regions.”

Ink was inconvenient for mobile commanders issuing quick orders. They had to grind ink, fill inkstones, and replenish water. Even rushed orders needed drying time.

This tool would be ideal for military commanders.

“Hmm…. Have you named it?”

“Please name it, Father.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

‘I can’t name it pencil!’

He’d already named it *Mukseok*, not graphite, so ‘pencil’ was impossible.

“A name…. What would suit it?”

Sejong studied the pencil. “*Cheompil* (尖筆) would be good. Use ‘sharp’ (尖) and ‘brush’ (筆). *Cheompil* it is. Scholars grind ink to calm the mind before writing. Similarly, *Cheompil* requires sharpening, encouraging a sharp mind for discussion.”

Hyang bowed.

“Your Majesty’s intentions are beautiful! I will print Your Majesty’s words and promote *Cheompil* widely!”

‘Father’s planning something! Now, every scholar in Joseon will buy one!’

Kim Jeom seized the moment.

“The Crown Prince is right! We must publicize that *Cheompil* embodies His Majesty’s profound meaning!”

The situation unfolded as Hyang predicted. *Cheompil* counters displayed Sejong’s words, compelling scholars to buy at least a box of ten.

“‘Sharpen your mind.’ Indeed, a scholar must sharpen their mind before discussion. Yes! Ahem!”

The *Cheompil* craze, started by scholars, spread throughout Joseon.

“Surprisingly convenient?”

The advantage of skipping ink grinding was *Cheompil*’s greatest strength. Traveling peddlers, scribes, and construction carpenters adopted it.

* * *

As sunset approached, Enrike’s party arrived in Hanseong via the iron horse.

“What kind of country is this…,” Enrike muttered, gazing at the Han River from the train crossing the iron bridge. [Enrike’s repeated exclamation highlights his growing astonishment at Joseon’s advancements.]

Despite Neobeol Island and Bam Island dividing it, the Han River’s width was immense.

He’d never seen or heard of such a wide bridge in Europe.

But more frightening was….

“Your Highness! Look at this bridge! It’s made of iron!”

“I see it…,” Enrike replied grimly.

‘Melting this bridge’s iron could arm at least 100,000 men. How much iron does this country produce?’

Enrike, staring at the steel structures, muttered, “Not the ‘Land of Flowers,’ but the ‘Land of Steel’, the ‘Land of Cannons’?”

* * *

The iron horse stopped at Hanseong Uyeok (漢城右驛), the Honam Line’s terminus. [Hanseong Uyeok was a major train station in Seoul.]

Enrike’s party disembarked, greeted by a new interpreter.

“Welcome to Hanseong.”

“Thank you.”

“A guesthouse awaits.”

“I understand.”

“You will have an audience with His Majesty in two days.”

“I understand.”

The interpreter led Enrike’s party outside, outlining the schedule.

They observed their surroundings. Inside the station, with its foreign ambiance, at least a hundred soldiers lined the passage.

Enrike’s party swallowed hard at the sight of soldiers with arcabuz-like guns and full-body armor, standing in formation.

“Intimidating…,” Enrike whispered, eyeing the soldiers.

Not only were they numerous, but all were clad in black.

Enrike’s party felt increasingly intimidated by the black wall flanking them.

This imposing welcome was Hyang’s doing.

“I’m tired of them swaggering around as they please,” Hyang said, recalling arrogant Ming Dynasty envoys. Though they had become less so recently, he persuaded Sejong to create an honor guard.

The honor guard, composed of large Naegeumwi (內禁衛, Royal Bodyguards) and 12 divisions soldiers, was naturally imposing. [The Naegeumwi were the King’s personal guard.]

Their unified black uniforms amplified the effect.

“Truly amazing!” Sejong praised Hyang after the honor guard’s first review.

“You flatter me.”

Hyang feigned humility but was pleased.

‘Imagine the Imperial March playing here!’

Hyang chuckled, picturing Darth Vader in black armor walking through the honor guard.

* * *

After the intimidating welcome, Enrike’s party left the station in waiting rickshaws.

“Hoo~,” Enrike sighed, relieved to escape the station’s atmosphere. He observed the capital.

“The road is paved with *cemento*. Is this truly the capital….”

Enrike nodded at the paved road, then noticed something.

“Huh? What’s that?”

A group lit the streetlights along the road.

“Using that stone again?”

Enrike nodded, recognizing the carbide lamp’s flame, and continued, “We must import that stone. Lighting Lisbon’s streets will please the King.”

Bbaeeeeek!

“Huh?”

The rickshaws stopped as a whistle blew. An iron horse moved slowly into view.

“An iron horse inside the city? The rumored iron horse!”

The rickshaws resumed moving as the iron horse passed. Enrike leaned back, pondering.

‘Iron horse…. What if it doesn’t go around but goes through?’

Enrike muttered, considering the possibilities.

“Do I have to join hands with the damn Muslims?” [This refers to potentially seeking alliances to compete with Joseon’s technological advancements.]