I Became A Hidden Powerhouse Of The British Empire [EN]: Chapter 2

The Hidden Tycoon of the British Empire 2 (1)

The 19th Century and Joseon (1)

In the modern world, ways to pass the time are everywhere.

Back when I was an assassin, my work often involved endless waiting.

How tedious it was to wait for the target to take the bait.

To kill time, I would occasionally watch dramas on streaming services or read novels.

Among them, the most absurd scenarios were accidents, deaths, regressions [returning to a previous state], possessions, or reincarnations.

The worlds they traveled to were also diverse.

Some went to the past, some were born in completely different worlds, and some even entered the books they were reading. At this point, I wondered if there was anywhere they couldn’t go.

Moreover, there were many cases where they were reborn as something other than humans.

It became common to be reborn as inanimate objects rather than living beings.

In the past, I used to scoff, “Once you die, that’s it. What’s with all this regression, possession, and reincarnation?” and only chose to watch works without such themes.

But who knew that such an absurd scenario would become my own story.

It would have been fine if it were just that, but unfortunately, the world around me was not so easy to deal with.

* * *

“Huff!”

I woke up again from the same dream.

It’s been several years since my memories returned in this wretched land, and yet I still periodically dream of that day.

The memory of being murdered in a foreign land without even knowing why.

Every time I relive that horrific moment when the anesthetic entered and my consciousness faded away, a chill runs down my spine.

It was early dawn, before even the roosters crowed.

The sun had not yet risen, but I got out of bed.

Anyway, on days when I have such dreams, I can’t fall back asleep.

Since I’m already up, the best way to have a comfortable morning is to fetch water quickly.

I put on clothes that had been patched up several times but didn’t have any holes yet and went outside.

Before coming out, I glanced back and saw that the resident servants I lived with were still snoring and showed no signs of waking up.

That’s right. Resident servants… literally servants who live in the owner’s house and provide labor directly.

They are also called *Yangyeok* servants or *Sol* servants [terms for lower-class servants in Joseon society], but the essence is the same.

It’s a truly absurd situation, but my status, living with them, was no different from theirs.

When my memories returned, I had already passed away, so I had never seen them, but the person who gave birth to me in this era was a servant of a noble family.

According to the *Jongmo* Act [a Joseon law determining social status through the mother], the children born to servants were also servants, so my status was a servant from birth.

Still, if I were the child of the owner, I could have lived a decent life as an illegitimate child, but I wasn’t even that.

My name is Yoo Seok. A servant around ten years old who doesn’t even know his parents’ faces.

This was the label attached to me in my second life.

At first, I was honestly a bit scared because of the images I had seen in dramas.

In dramas, the owner would sometimes beat servants to death on a whim, and I was worried that might happen to me too.

However, after actually living here, I realized that dramas were just dramas and there was a big gap between them and reality.

After doing some research, I was able to easily understand the reason.

It was because the number of servants had greatly decreased over time.

If there is demand but little supply, the value goes up, which is only natural.

Even the owner of this house couldn’t live without the servants who took care of the household chores.

When going on outings, they needed someone to lead the horse and guide the way, and even when writing letters, they needed someone to deliver them. How could they do household management or farming themselves?

Moreover, the more powerful the noble family, the more they wanted smart and capable servants, and among the already scarce servants, these high-caliber talents were treated very well.

Seoksan, who is snoring over there, is a good example.

That guy is smart enough to learn to read and write on his own, so he is greatly favored by the owner and has even received his own farmland.

He not only writes letters for the owner but can also handle petitions and tasks that need to be done at the government office, so there is nothing more to say.

The value of such an excellent servant was incomparable to a limited edition luxury watch in modern times, and the owners took great care of their health to prevent them from getting sick.

It was just last winter that they searched the neighborhood like crazy to find herbal medicine for that guy when he had a high fever.

Of course, no matter how well they are treated, servants are still servants.

To overcome the limitations of their status and move up, they have to make their presence known.

After becoming aware of my past life, I used all my memories to figure out exactly when this era was.

Fortunately, I had accumulated enough macro-level knowledge to act as a history professor in the past, so it wasn’t a difficult task.

The current king is still alive, so he doesn’t use a posthumous title, but the previous king is a famous ruler that almost every Korean has heard of.

He was called King Jeongjo, so I could easily estimate the time period.

Joseon in the 19th century.

That was where my second life began.

Considering that it has been about 30 years since the King ascended the throne, I can estimate that it is around the 1830s in the 19th century.

That means the turbulent and chaotic end of the Joseon Dynasty is just around the corner.

With that in mind, even I, a servant, might have a chance to reverse my fate.

At first, I wanted to use my future knowledge to be freed from my status as a servant, create strong connections, and become a tycoon.

Furthermore, I even had the ambition to successfully modernize Joseon and become a historical figure who changed its bleak future.

But unfortunately, the environment surrounding me was not just that.

“Oh! A goblin is passing by!”

“His eyes are blue again today? What does he eat to grow up so grotesque?”

“He’s not like that because of what he eats, but because he’s got barbarian blood in him. Western barbarian blood, at that.”

“But I heard those Westerners eat people. What if he tries to eat us later?”

Unfortunately, I wasn’t a pure-blooded Joseon [Korean dynasty from 1392 to 1897] person like everyone else.

My identity? I was a mixed-race servant with foreign blood—Western blood, no less.

Being a servant is bad enough, but a servant with Western blood? Imagine how society views that.

If you mention Kim Yeong-gam’s Yoo-seok, everyone in this neighborhood knows who you’re talking about. I’m a local curiosity.

In some ways, I might be more famous than my master, Kim Yeong-gam, who even rose to the position of Second Secretary of the Board of Rites [a high-ranking government position].

No, at least in this area, I’m definitely more famous.

The problem is that this fame is by no means a positive thing.

“Sigh. Forget it, forget it. Let’s just go our separate ways.”

That’s why I tried to fetch water before dawn, but these guys really don’t sleep, do they?

Everywhere I go, groups of people follow me, commenting on how high my nose is and how big and blue my eyes are. They’ve been doing this for years.

If they were just curious, I’d let it slide, but our benevolent and tolerant Joseon society would never do that.

“Hey, can you really shoot fire from your mouth?”

“I heard Westerners don’t even recognize their parents. Is that true for you too?”

“Oh, yeah. Not only can I shoot fire from my mouth, but also from my hands, and I can eat people left and right, so how about you get lost? Should I try eating your arm first for a test?”

“Aaaah! Don’t come near me, you goblin!”

“Throw rocks at him! Throw rocks!”

The longer I spend here, the more my ambition to improve Joseon melts away like cotton candy.

From the start, even the other servants in the house looked down on me, so I wasn’t particularly angry at those guys.

No matter how much I show them I’m smart, no matter how much I try to prove I’m capable, they don’t even give me a chance. What am I supposed to do?

For anyone else, it might be different, but if a slave with Western blood is smart, they just get annoyed, and if I show them I’m capable, they just scoff.

There’s really no hope here.

I feel like I could take off if I just got to the starting line, but I’m getting blocked at the entrance of the racetrack.

A slave? A butcher? I guarantee you can search all of Joseon and not find someone with a lower social standing than me.

If they held a ‘Most Unfortunate Person’ contest, I’d win without a doubt.

The important thing is to never give up, but… I can’t. I really feel like I’m going to break.

Still, I try to move diligently.

There’s no other reason.

It’s thanks to the desperation that if I really give up, I’ll have to live this miserable life forever.

Even in this rigid Joseon era, maybe there’s someone with an open mind who likes unusual things and will listen to me.

Well, there’s a saying that sincerity moves even heaven, so if I keep trying, maybe…

“Hahahaha! You have a way to double my wealth? Only the lowly Western blood in you would make such a ridiculous joke. Get him out of here, boys!”

Okay. I’ve tried every day for three years, and today I succeeded in proving once again that there isn’t a single person with an open mind.

I’ve been through this so many times that my body now reacts automatically.

The moment I’m thrown to the ground, I skillfully break my fall and get up, so it doesn’t hurt much.

I’ve also become thick-skinned enough to indifferently ignore the gazes of the nobles and servants who are watching me like I’m some crazy person.

Even a school dog can recite poetry after three years, but it feels like my only skill that’s improving is getting rejected. Is that just my imagination?

“Hoo… Still, if I keep trying, maybe one tree will eventually fall. Where should I go tomorrow?”

Just as I was about to take a deep breath to steel myself,

A response that poured cold water on my determination came from behind, even though I hadn’t asked for it.

“You’re really doing something hopeless. It’s just a waste of effort, so why don’t you give up and go back to sleep?”

It’s not like there haven’t been people who gave me unsolicited advice like a sage before, lecturing me as I lay on the ground.

If it were another servant, I could just ignore them and go back, but if the other person is a nobleman, they might cause more trouble.

I politely turned around to check the other person’s attire, and even though it wasn’t overly extravagant, it definitely had the air of a noble family.

Since he even looked about my age, I did my best to manage my expression and bowed my head so as not to provoke him.

The best thing to do in these situations is to humor them appropriately and send them on their way.

“But there might be an elder who likes someone as strange as me. Hahaha.”

“No. I can say with certainty that there won’t be a single one in this Joseon, so just give up quietly. Or go over to Qing [the last imperial dynasty of China].”

“Ah, is that so? If someone like you, young master, says so, there must be a good reason.”

“Yes. But are you foolish or just stubborn? You don’t understand this simple truth and have been going around looking for people for years? So I got curious and came to see what kind of face you have. As I heard, you speak Joseon fluently, but your eyes are blue. How fascinating.”

“As I said, there might be a master who really likes unusual things. What is your name, young master? I am called Yoo-seok.”

The young nobleman, who was examining me like a strange zoo monkey, wore a smile that was half curiosity and half mockery.

“My family name is Lee, and my given name is Ha-eung.”

“Yes, Young Master Ha-eung. Um…”

I was about to continue speaking, but I stopped, feeling a sudden sense of déjà vu.

Lee Ha-eung? That’s a name I’ve heard a lot somewhere… Ah! I remember.

A child of about ten years old in the early 19th century. And the name Lee Ha-eung.

I was a little slow to react because he’s more famous by another title.

Should I call this a coincidence or fate?

Me, who is called a Westerner and is being avoided because half of my blood is Western.

The person who will lead the way in the forefront of anti-Western civilization while pursuing a seclusion policy.

The historical figure who will later be called Heungseon Daewongun [a title for the father of the reigning monarch] was standing and looking at me.