At the very mont Joseon was burning with the question of succession.
Yi Gwang-ro, leader of the Hwaseo school who had opposed relations with Britain, found himself overwheld by the sheer size of the smoke-belching ship beneath his feet.
"So… we are to board this for exile?"
"That is correct."
"…To think a scholar would go into exile aboard a barbarian vessel…"
"You should consider yourself fortunate. Better this than freezing in so remote mountain village."
He had heard of Western ships before, but the sound and sight of one in motion unsettled him deeply.
Surrounded by Westerners with unfamiliar features, the only person he could speak to was the interpreter accompanying him.
"Where exactly are we going?"
"By His Majesty's grace, you are being given the opportunity to witness the world firsthand. We are headed to the Philippines."
"…Philippines?"
"A collection of islands, also called Biryulbin. It is currently a colony of Spain, once the strongest power in Europe. By chance, Britain and Spain are holding talks on Asian trade, so we are traveling as part of a British diplomatic mission."
"I see…"
Though he did not fully understand, he nodded.
"So this land suffers under foreign rule?"
"Yes. And it is not far from Joseon. His Highness Killian has said that seeing this place will awaken awareness in Asian nations."
Joseon had known foreign domination before, such as under the Mongols during Goryeo.
But this would be different.
"Compared to Africa, so even say this place is relatively mild."
He doubted it.
Surely it could not be worse than what history had already shown.
But when they arrived, he realized how wrong he was.
"Philippines is an important base for Spain. We have established the polo system, a most efficient system of tribute."
Spain openly displayed its system of rule.
"We collect taxes, of course. And the natives must perform labor, called polo. n from sixteen to sixty are mobilized, about forty days a year."
"Are they compensated?"
"Of course not. Why would we pay them?"
Laughter followed.
Yi Gwang-ro stood in stunned silence.
This was not tribute.
This was enslavent of an entire nation.
The land belonged to religious orders.
The people labored endlessly as tenant farrs, barely surviving.
Those who refused labor had to pay fees.
Starvation was common.
And this was considered normal.
At first, he tried to rationalize it.
Perhaps these lands had never been proper states.
But that, too, was false.
What shocked him most was the attitude of the Spanish.
"This is not conquest. It is integration. These fragnted lands have beco one under Spain."
They believed it.
Completely.
The longer he stayed, the more Joseon and the Philippines began to overlap in his mind.
If Britain were to leave, could Joseon avoid such a fate?
He knew this was ant to shake his beliefs.
And yet—
he could no longer deny his fear.
Joseon had long taken pride in preserving Confucian ideals.
After the fall of Ming, it had seen itself as the true center of civilization.
But that belief was now cracking.
Killian's presence, relations with Britain, victory over Russia, and the acquisition of Sakhalin had already shaken the foundation.
Now, even more pressure was applied.
The second round of evaluation focused entirely on practical governance.
"How will you stabilize newly acquired Sakhalin?"
"If Joseon takes Manchuria, how should Primorye be handled?"
"How can Joseon minimize losses in trade with Europe?"
Faced with such questions, even Heungseon Daewongun and Gyeongwon-gun Yi Ha-jeon had no choice but to give practical answers.
And the more they did so, the further they moved away from strict Neo-Confucian ideology.
When all evaluations ended, tension filled the court.
Everyone waited for the decision.
"Gyeongwon-gun seems the most promising."
"But Heungseon Daewongun argued best."
"He is too radical."
"And he has no strong faction behind him."
Speculation spread quietly.
Then, at last, King Heonjong spoke.
"All candidates have shown remarkable ability. It has been a difficult decision."
Silence fell.
"But before I announce the result…"
The room tensed.
"In these tis of crisis, the most capable must ascend the throne."
Agreent followed imdiately.
No one could oppose it.
"Therefore, even if there is a rightful heir, ability must take precedence."
Shock spread.
Even Heungseon Daewongun was caught off guard.
"Does this an future kings will also be chosen this way?"
"Yes. Until stability is secured, the most capable among the royal family shall rule."
Then he turned directly to Heungseon Daewongun.
"Can you swear that your own son would be fit to rule in such tis?"
"…I cannot."
"Then you understand."
"…Yes, Your Majesty."
He accepted.
There was no turning back.
"This thod is not without precedent. In Europe, the Roman Empire selected its greatest rulers through adoption, reaching its golden age."
The justification was complete.
"And now—"
The mont arrived.
"The one who shall inherit the throne…"
All eyes turned.
"Heungseon Daewongun."
The decision was made.
"Co forward."
As he stepped forward, the king continued.
"From this mont, you are the Crown Prince."
Then he looked toward .
"His Highness Killian will offer his congratulations."
I stepped forward.
"Congratulations. Or rather, Crown Prince."
"This is all thanks to you."
"Do you rember your promise?"
"…What?"
I lowered my voice.
"If the day ca when my words made sense, you would follow them."
His eyes trembled.
Recognition dawned.
"…It was you…"
"Keep your promise."
"…I will."
He was no fool.
He had suspected.
But hearing it directly was different.
"I sincerely hope you beco a great king."
Around us, applause erupted.
"Congratulations!"
"Long live the Crown Prince!"
"A bond between Joseon and Britain!"
The scene was perfect.
The future king of Joseon and the power behind the British Empire, standing together.
The photograph captured it all.
A symbol of alliance.
And the beginning of a new era.
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