Chapter 170

The bloodstains in Nanjing had barely dried when anonymous letters began pouring into every office responsible for judiciary and surveillance.

Anonymous letters were supposed to be discarded without examination according to custom; moreover, the authors of such letters were usually punished. This was to prevent the political arena from degenerating into messy conflicts.

But this time, the custom would not apply. The letters were all about Guang-hon-san or other narcotics.

[South In-cheol, Commander of the Troops at the An Hyun Garrison, is trafficking narcotics through a brothel run by his concubine. The brothel is called Baekhwaroo and deals in both Guang-hon-san and cocaine. Cocaine is the drug the Western barbarians used to deceive our envoys; it accelerates the heartbeat upon ingestion and induces an intense euphoria. They render the visitors unconscious with Guang-hon-san and steal their valuables.]

[Han Yu-hyeok, who previously lectured at Gukja-gam and is now a professor at the Yongyeonbu Academy, is selling Guang-hon-san to his students. The fact that he is poisoning their minds with narcotics is particularly alarming. Please punish him harshly as an example to others.]

[The legal wife of Gangjoo Fortress’ Left Deputy Minister is involved in Guang-hon-san…]

The letters were explicit calls for death.

Their chilling content struck fear even into the officials who discovered them. Still, they couldn’t be ignored — suppressing any information about Guang-hon-san could incur the wrath of the sovereign.

Thus, each province’s inspectors dispatched subordinates to investigate the accused, mindful of the possibility of false accusations.

However,

“We already have the evidence. Confess everything.”

“What… what evidence?”

“You’re resisting? Most criminals act like you.”

“…What?”

There were quite a few zealous officials, young men driven by ambition, eager to seize the opportunity to climb the ranks by catching a big fish.

After actively investigating and producing “results,” they began sending the criminals to the capital, confident that their achievements would lead to swift promotions. They believed they were meeting the expectations of the young sovereign who governed without mercy.

The number of those condemned to death increased rapidly—too quickly to handle.

…

…

This couldn’t continue.

As Emperor Tang Yeon-cheol reviewed a memorandum from the Ministry of Justice, he realized this thought.

The petition requested the recruitment of thirty executioners to alleviate the shortage. In other words, the number of executions was overwhelming their current manpower.

The number of criminals was truly staggering.

The elite palace guards and even the low-level investigators of the censorate were already tasked with executing prisoners, due to the overwhelming number sent from each province. Not all those dragged to the execution grounds were necessarily involved with Guang-hon-san, naturally.

Upon receiving the anonymous letters, some overzealous officials probably extracted forced confessions through intense interrogations. Sometimes, under duress, the prisoners confessed to crimes they didn’t commit and implicated innocent people. Once in the hands of the legal authorities, it wasn’t hard to pin false crimes on someone.

Though Tang Yeon-cheol was aware of this, he still ordered the executions to proceed. There was no valid reason to stop now.

If he halted it without cause, it would expose the empire to Alan Medoff’s attacks. If that happened, countless more lives would be lost.

…Although lives were already being lost now. Even so, Tang Yeon-cheol could not yield.

What Tang Yeon-cheol needed was justification. A justification to issue a new, more reasonable imperial edict. But such a reason wasn’t presenting itself easily.

And so, the executions continued without pause.

Experienced executioners began disappearing, complaining of shoulder and wrist pain. A golden belt guard encountered a friend at the execution site and burst into tears, dropping his sword in despair. It was even said that a member of the royal family fainted upon witnessing the scene.

Five thousand… seven thousand… eight thousand…

It was only after over ten thousand people had died that the moment finally came.

“Your Majesty.”

“What now?”

Tang Yeon-cheol finally identified the opportunity he had been waiting for.

“An anonymous letter accusing Han Hokeung, Grand Minister of Ceremonies, has been received by the Office of Inspection. They caught a young boy who tried to flee after dropping the letter. The content claims Han Hokeung’s youngest son organized a group to traffic Guang-hon-san…”

“Enough! I’ll read it myself.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

Han Hokeung, a retired minister of seventy, had served four times as head of various departments and reached the pinnacle of his career as Grand Tutor. Though retired, he was respected openly by numerous officials. The former emperor himself valued him greatly. This letter wasn’t just any random accusation.

‘Han Hokeung’s youngest son sold Guang-hon-san?’

Tang Yeon-cheol chuckled in disbelief. It was widely known that Han Hokeung’s youngest, a late-born child, was frail. Han had retired to take care of him.

And now, this fragile boy was supposedly distributing Guang-hon-san?

Even forming a gang? What gang could a child possibly run?

This was clearly slander.

“Well, this might serve as the justification I need.”

“Your Majesty?”

“Send someone discreetly to Han Hokeung right now. Tell him that I’m aware of the false accusation against him, that I will publicly declare his innocence tomorrow at court. Tell him to come.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

For the first time in a long while, Tang Yeon-cheol’s face softened with some color. He planned to clear Han Hokeung’s name in front of all officials, condemning the misuse of narcotics fears to settle political scores, while subtly reinforcing the importance of the edict against narcotics.

‘This will do.’

It was the moment the anxious emperor finally found an escape.

…

The next day.

“Han Hokeung, Grand Minister of Ceremonies, you may look up.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The emperor greeted the elderly minister in front of the gathered officials.

Han Hokeung. Older than the late emperor, yet unbowed, with a still sharp gaze—clearly still capable of important duties.

The emperor spoke with unusual gentleness.

“There was an anonymous letter accusing you received by the Office of Inspection. Are you aware of it?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“The letter was dropped by a nine-year-old boy, who fled after. He did a job for someone for a penny. Of course, the boy has already been released. …I personally reviewed the content of the letter submitted by the Right Censor-in-Chief.”

“I apologize for causing you distress.”

Han Hokeung’s calm expression indicated his awareness that his name would soon be cleared.

It would have been ideal if he, being an esteemed official, added a remark condemning false accusations, but even without it, clearing his name by royal decree would set a good example.

Pausing briefly, Tang Yeon-cheol began.

“I have personally verified the accusations—young and frail from childhood due to illness, I well know—how old did they say? Fourteen?—yet somehow marked as a villain by their false accusations.”

“…

“This is indeed true.”

A moment of silence fell over the court.

Did the emperor hear correctly? What truth was Han Hokeung referring to here?

Was this foolish, incomprehensible letter actually true?

…No, surely not.

“Your Majesty, I instructed my son to sell narcotics.”

“What?”

“There is the profit piled up in the west wing of our home. At one point, it reached over six hundred gold pieces but I indulged in extravagance and spent it all. However, there’s no denying my involvement with Guang-hon-san.”

“Nonsense. Your son…”

“It is true. Please execute me and my family, Your Majesty.”

Suddenly confessing to a charge he was not accused of, and even offering his life, along with his entire family!

This wasn’t what he wanted at all. He called Han Hokeung to clear his slandered name, not to confess!

It didn’t take long to grasp his purpose.

Protest.

A protest against the emperor who beheaded over ten thousand innocents based on mere accusation and self-inflicted confessions—all under the guise of controlling Guang-hon-san. A protest so severe, Han Hokeung had even staked his own life.

As Tang Yeon-cheol stared at the old man who openly condemned him, a despondent realization struck him.

‘Does Han not understand that losing control of Guang-hon-san will weaken my ability to fight it?’

If he were to yield to the pressure now, crafting a new edict against Guang-hon-san would become nearly impossible. Such a precedent would only embolden Alan Medoff.

Why was Han risking all of this when he surely knew the consequences…

“Oh…”

Tang Yeon-cheol finally realized the truth. The people had begun to fear the emperor’s own brutality more than the dangers of Guang-hon-san.

Though it started as a noble effort to stop narcotics, whether intended or not…

“Please kill me, Your Majesty.”

Tang Yeon-cheol had already become a tyrant.