Ch.279279. Famine (4)

The Era of Religion, Dominated by Superstition and Irrationality

In this era, the most preferred method of selecting officials worldwide is the recommendation-based selection, also known as “eumseo.”

This system, still prevalent in both the Western Continent and the Eastern Continent where civil service examinations are implemented, simply involves selecting lower officials from among the children of high-ranking officials or those who receive recommendation letters from current officials.

While the impression of it being a labyrinth of connections and bribes is somewhat accurate, this method does have its own merits.

Since one stakes their reputation on their recommendation, if the recommended person lacks ability, it could tarnish the recommender’s career. Moreover, in a world where education is a privilege, being born to the upper class is virtually proof of having received excellent education.

In fact, these recommendation letters often function as a form of “verification,” naturally filtering out those who are completely incompetent and lacking in ability.

In any case, while the global trend favors this closed form of official selection, countries influenced by the Eastern Continent—especially the Wu Empire—show a different pattern.

They judge candidates’ abilities through a “civil service examination” and then bestow official positions upon them.

Of course, even in the Kore Empire, where these examinations are most strictly implemented, the eumseo system and the practice of selling official positions still persist. However, those who enter through these methods typically remain in low positions.

If one wishes to advance as an official, they must pass the civil service examination—specifically the “Mungwa,” which selects civil officials.

There’s the Sogwa, which serves as the entrance exam for Sungkyunkwan and qualifies one to take the Daegwa.

Then there’s the Daegwa, consisting of three stages—Chosi, Boksi, and Jeonsi—taken by Sungkyunkwan students who meet certain conditions to be appointed to official positions.

While “civil service examination” typically refers to the Mungwa, the range of what’s recognized as a “civil service examination” is quite broad.

There’s the Mugwa for selecting military officials, which is legally equal to the Mungwa despite being less prestigious.

The Yeokgwa selects interpreters who also serve as diplomats. The Uigwa selects state-certified medical practitioners. The Eumyanggwa selects experts in “Eumyangdo” magic. And the Yulgwa selects judges and lawyers.

These “civil service examinations” not only carry considerable authority as state-certified official tests but are also virtually the only means of social mobility in this world.

Strictly speaking, the Kore Kingdom has no legally recognized privileged class of nobility, and to be recognized as a yangban—similar to nobility—one must pass these civil service examinations.

Only those who pass the examination and their first-generation descendants are officially recognized as “yangban,” which means anyone who doesn’t meet these conditions is not a formal yangban.

This law, like the “title succession law” of the Frankish Kingdom, helps prevent the emergence of incompetent superiors, but it has also caused an unexpected side effect.

It has resulted in the mass production of “fake yangban”—those born to yangban parents who become yangban themselves but fail to pass the civil service examinations.

However, it’s not entirely fair to blame them, as the circumstances are quite challenging.

For instance, the Mungwa examination, considered the most prestigious, is held only once a year, and only 33 candidates pass the Boksi stage of the Daegwa.

While the number of those who pass the Sogwa—which qualifies one for Sungkyunkwan entrance and yangban status—is somewhat higher, it still doesn’t exceed 300 per year.

In essence, these are ordinary people who couldn’t become geniuses, crushed under the pressure of reality.

However… the real problem begins here.

Despite failing the civil service examinations due to lack of ability, some yangban evolve into idle good-for-nothings or unemployed parasites who drain their parents’ resources.

Naturally, since passing the examinations requires substantial financial investment in education, these idle yangban often come from wealthy landowner families with considerable assets.

As a result, these individuals who reach the invincible state of being unemployed with nothing to worry about and plenty of money…

Paradoxically, many of them become twisted and evolve in dark directions precisely because of this situation.

Like most societies, the Kore Kingdom has an atmosphere that reveres social success as the highest achievement. In such a context, how would people view those who “failed to succeed due to lack of ability”?

Objectively speaking, they are not failures at all, but the social atmosphere itself looks down on them as losers, creating an inferiority complex.

Of course, these reasons don’t justify their misbehavior and abuse of their status.

Among these idle yangban, some lead relatively decent lives, and many at least avoid harming others while enjoying themselves.

How could it be justified to look down upon, mock, and persecute innocent people just because society disrespects you?

Their essence is truly disgusting—trying to compensate for their damaged self-esteem by tearing others down.

They are the embodiment of blame-shifting and selfishness, extreme egoists one wouldn’t want to associate with.

Anyway, among these idle yangban gangs—who call themselves names like “Hwamyeongdan” or “Biseondan” while causing trouble—some have recently been visiting Mount Geumdan regularly.

While they might aim to enjoy the nationally renowned scenic beauty of Mount Geumdan, this gang has taken their deplorable behavior a step further.

They’ve been unleashing their dark desires and cravings on an innocent rural village between Hanyang and Mount Geumdan.

Using their yangban status, they forcibly stole the village’s property—especially food—and leveraged their connections as children of high officials to force nearby government offices to turn a blind eye.

All this not for any special reason or ideology, but purely for their own amusement.

They didn’t care if people in the village starved to death due to lack of food.

No, they even laughed at the sight of starvation victims and made jokes about it.

…At this point, it wouldn’t be strange to describe their humanity as that of potential cult followers who might convert at any moment.

And on that day, too, this gang visited the village to satisfy their fallen self-esteem.

The gang consisted of about 20 men and women who, having nothing better to do, had trained in martial arts or magic enough to at least protect themselves.

“Hey, how many do you think have died?”

“I say… ten.”

“Then I say thirteen!”

“Ah! I was going to say thirteen!”

“Fifteen! I’ll go with fifteen!”

Thus, as they confidently headed toward the village, they were discussing the malicious topic of how many casualties might have occurred in the village…

[…You fools! You have announced your evil deeds yourselves!]

Suddenly, before them appeared a bipedal giant rabbit in armor.

“Pff, hahahahaha!!”

“A rabbit! A rabbit, heeheehee—!!!”

To their eyes, it looked like a ridiculous joke, so the slightly intoxicated gang tried to shoo away the rabbit while mocking it.

Their already poor judgment was somewhat clouded by alcohol, and despite the rabbit being armed, its small size made them underestimate it.

Generally, the lower one’s level of attainment, the more influenced they are by large size.

[…Sigh. You have announced your sins yourselves!]

However, this time, their judgment was mistaken.

-Slash!

After some of them drew out their reinforced paulownia clubs—strengthened with metal frames and iron cores—to chase away the rabbit, the weapons were cut in half.

With a sound like wind flowing, some gang members collapsed to the ground.

Only now did the gang members begin to realize they had misjudged something, but it was already too late.

Silver plant-like tendrils extended from the rabbit knight’s sword, binding these yangban thugs tightly. They felt their consciousness suddenly fading.

What on earth was happening? Unable to properly grasp the situation, they were left with only a faint final question as their consciousness gradually dimmed…

“…Ah.”

Belatedly feeling a numbing shock and pain at the back of their heads and realizing its cause, they finally lost consciousness completely.