Chapter 47: The Balancer of the Far East

Winter Palace, Russian Empire.

News of Prince Joachim of the German Empire traveling to the Korean Empire had reached Russia, which had been keeping a close watch on Germany’s movements.

Germany, it seemed, had taken an interest in Countess Ok.

“What? Wilhelm II is interested in Countess Ok?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. It seems he sent Prince Joachim.”

‘Prince Joachim?’

“He sent Joachim as a suitor?”

Age-wise, it wasn’t completely out of the question, but still…

‘Was Wilhelm really interested in the East?’

For Russia, having seen Countess Ok’s magic firsthand—among nobles and royalty—it was hard not to believe.

“It doesn’t appear to be about marriage, more like a personal fascination.”

“The Korean Empire has just barely escaped the path of ruin. If Germany offers massive support and turns them into a pro-German state, wouldn’t that be dangerous in the future?”

In truth, neutrality meant nothing for a country like the Korean Empire.

So, it wasn’t an entirely impossible scenario.

Given Korea’s situation—having made enemies with the Qing—they were desperate enough to accept any help.

At the very least, Germany might attempt to completely push out Russian influence or balance it.

“Hmm… Then shouldn’t we also take some action?”

“Unfortunately, we have no one suitable to match Countess Ok. And even if we did, would she even accept him?”

“That’s true. Has Germany actually given Korea anything yet? Let’s set aside this personal fascination nonsense.”

“They’ve sold warships, transferred technology, and are even training their navy.”

So, Germany was seriously trying to turn Korea into a naval power.

Neutral or not, raising their military capacity made sense.

But to think Germany would step in this far…

“From what I’ve seen, Countess Ok is extremely dangerous. She killed unarmed Japanese soldiers without hesitation. She’s someone who won’t hesitate to use any means to achieve her goals. Perhaps it would be better to intimidate her.”

“And what if she turns away from us and allies with Germany instead? Hm, what could we offer her in return…?”

Nicholas II still couldn’t forget that day.

The sight of her shooting herself in the head—and surviving without a scratch.

The military officials like Kuropatkin and Bezobrazov didn’t know, but Nicholas II had seen her heal Alexei after surviving that gunshot.

She looked to be only in her early twenties, but possessed tremendous martial power and fluency in multiple languages as if they were her own.

A superhuman.

He could not let such an Eastern sorceress fall into German hands.

“Our country is still reeling from the tragedy of last Sunday’s massacre caused by the suppression of protestors.”

Sergei Witte cast a sideways glance at Grand Duke Vladimir Alexandrovich, Tsar’s uncle and head of the police.

If not for the Bloody Sunday incident caused by that man, the protests could’ve ended peacefully, and they wouldn’t have had to end the war so hastily by accepting Ok Jinseo’s terms.

“Are you mocking me right now?”

“Enough. Still, we cannot allow Countess Ok to fall into Wilhelm’s hands and turn Korea into a pro-German nation.”

“Your Majesty, we are in a territorial dispute with Korea over Gando. We should pressure them instead. Remind them who they owe their independence to.”

Grand Duke Alexandrovich, fearing blame might fall on him, suggested attacking Korea to divert responsibility.

“But didn’t we already recognize Gando as their territory?”

“The problem is, we don’t know the exact borders. Countess Ok insists the area she’s occupying is part of Gando, but it’s almost like she’s taken a large bite out of Manchuria. It’s essentially Southern Manchuria, the area is that wide.”

There had been an agreement for military cooperation in Manchuria, to help modernize the Korean military.

But this was never meant to lead to Korea owning southern Manchuria.

Granted, her army had pushed into northern Manchuria to subdue Qing forces.

So claiming only the region now labeled ‘Gando’ was at least more restrained than outright seizing all of Manchuria.

“Hmm, but even with that, we still hold much of the territory, don’t we?”

“Surely not, Your Majesty.”

Nicholas II fell silent for a moment.

Right now, Russia had nothing suitable to offer Countess Ok—not enough to bind her fully as a vassal, or even as a Russian Countess.

Except for the land she claimed as Gando.

“What if we recognize that entire area as Gando and grant it to her?”

“Your Majesty, you mustn’t. That would be an overly generous gift to Korea, which once betrayed us.”

Even if she did save the Crown Prince, the Tsar was far too affectionate toward a Korean woman who wasn’t even Russian.

Sergei Witte frowned at this.

“Then punish Korea instead!”

“We don’t have the means to wage war right now. We’ve already suffered major losses against Japan.”

“So we’re just going to watch as Korea wags its tail for Germany? Korea is a bat-like nation—”

“That’s right.”

They sided with the Qing, then turned to Japan when Japan gained power—at least, from Russia’s view—then aligned with Russia, and now might switch to Britain and Japan again for territorial gains.

There’s no telling they won’t ally with Germany next.

“If we offer that land as a fief to Countess Ok, as a loyal vassal of the Russian Empire, wouldn’t that be a fitting reason?”

“Are you truly set on this course, Your Majesty?”

Even giving a part of the land would be too generous.

It was nearly half the size of the Korean Peninsula.

What’s more, British capital had already been invested there.

Even though some Russian businesses had moved in, this might open the door for German investments as well.

“I don’t know how powerful Countess Ok’s magic really is. But what I do know is that if we lose her to Germany, the consequences will be dangerous. We cannot give the savior of our Crown Prince to another power.”

Germany was now rising as a new great power.

Handing her over to them was out of the question.

“According to Minister Weber, there’s a division forming between Jinseo’s pro-Manchurian faction and the conservative status-quo faction.”

From an outsider’s perspective, the Korean Empire now seemed split between a pro-reform, pro-Manchuria faction and a conservative faction clinging to the old ways.

Viceroy Bezobrazov of the Far East was already thinking of going big—if they were going to extend their hand, might as well do it dramatically.

“Does the Viceroy of the Far East think so as well?”

Soon, Bezobrazov was scheduled to meet with Ok Jinseo regarding the aviation project.

Given that, bringing a gift might not be a bad idea.

Russia already had military presence in Manchuria, and had seized even more territory than the disputed Gando.

Still, compared to all of Manchuria, what they controlled was just a fraction.

Korea, with its limited strength, could barely assimilate even that land and likely couldn’t demand more.

“As it happens, I will be meeting with Countess Ok soon for business matters. Your Majesty, please leave this to me.”

“Whether I leave it to you or not, we’re just showering Korea with gifts. They’ll only grow bolder. Europe will mock Russia for bowing to a yellow-skinned nation.”

Kuropatkin spoke critically.

“She’s the same Ok Jinseo who crushed English forces without hesitation and literally slaughtered the unguarded Japanese troops.”

“What do you think a woman like that would do against Russia?”

Even Kuropatkin, not exactly a brilliant commander himself, could at least sense that Ok Jinseo was a dangerous figure.

“If Countess Ok is the leading force, it changes everything. The more gifts we place in her hands, the more she’ll clash with the domestic moderates in Korea. Eventually, she’ll have no choice but to rely on us Russians.”

“That’s reasonable. You truly are a Viceroy of the Far East.”

“Frankly, it might be better to let Countess Ok take control of the government than to keep depending on the treacherous, unpredictable Imperial House of Korea.”

That way, we might establish a pro-Russian buffer state across Gando and the Korean Peninsula.

It seems the Germans have been thoroughly fooled.

***

When I brought up Admiral Yi Sunsin, their expressions said it all—complete disbelief.

Like, seriously, ‘what’s wrong with you people?’

I’m telling the truth here.

The East Asia Fleet Admiral especially looked like he was about to burst.

“Are you saying such a person actually existed?”

“Yes.”

“So, he fell off his horse, broke his bones, and still insisted on taking the military officer exam?”

“Yes.”

“Yes! How many times do I have to say it?”

“Why do you all look so spaced out? Did you really not think someone like that could come from Korea?”

“A fellow admiral at the start of the war burned all his ships and even tried to steal credit, while the government gave him zero support. Yet he built the navy back up alone and fought against Japan?”

“That’s correct.”

Even I can’t believe it when I say it, but it’s true.

“What do you want me to do? The man actually existed.”

“Surely the West has at least one similar example?”

“And even after being falsely accused and dragged away, he remained loyal to his country and, with only 13 ships, destroyed over 100 enemy vessels?”

I told them about the Battle of Myeongseong, and their faces were like, ‘Are you insulting my intelligence right now?’

‘They looked at me as if they were about to ask if I was stupid for believing such a story.’

I didn’t know how to respond, so I just nodded.

“Yes.”

‘Seriously, have people been living their whole lives just getting fooled?’

“Why is everyone reacting like this? It’s not like I’m speaking some obscure language—we understand each other perfectly well.”

“You should say something more believable. Hahaha. Do you think naval battles are that simple? Even considering it was 300 years ago, commanding a fleet isn’t easy. And to remain loyal to a king who constantly doubted and undermined him? That’s hard to grasp.”

He seemed like he believed me for a moment, but then shook his head again in disbelief.

“This is even documented in Japanese records. Admiral Yi Sunsin never lost a single battle.”

‘Maybe this will shift their attention to me a little. Time for some nationalistic flexing. Well, technically, it’s not national pride—it’s Admiral Yi pride. But whatever. Close enough.’

“That kind of story would flop if you wrote it in a novel. And you’re telling me it’s real? That he remained loyal to such an incompetent king? Good grief.”

The East Asia Fleet Admiral muttered as if he couldn’t believe whether I was joking or not.

“That’s exactly why Joseon became what it is today—Daehan.”

“Ah.”

“And isn’t that the kind of person I am right now?”

I haven’t fought 23 battles yet, but I did help the British develop Gando.

The situation now is even better in some ways.

At the very least, I’m under constant scrutiny.

Unlike Admiral Yi, I’m being pulled back by the royal court while dragging all the other quasi-great powers forward by the collar.

“That’s got to count for something, right?”

“Hard to believe 500 years have passed. Ah, my apologies—it’s just such a bizarre story. But if even the Japanese have the same records, maybe it’s true.”

Exactly. It’s cross-verified.

Even the Japanese recognize names like Yi Sunsin and Kim Si-min.

“I heard Korea produces a superhuman in times of national crisis.”

At Joachim’s words, I tilted my head.

‘Where did he hear that?’ Well, if it improves their perception of Korea, it’s not a bad thing.

“To be precise, it means Korea only functions when one superhuman does all the work.”

‘Is that kind of country even normal? Shouldn’t a functioning country run because everyone works together?’

“You’ll be making even greater contributions going forward!”

“Uh… is that how it works?”

I don’t know what it is, but it sounds convincing.

“If Countess Ok is truly a superhuman, then maybe Korea can become—not quite on par with Germany—but perhaps at least comparable to France, which produced Joan of Arc?”

And of course, they had to tack on a “not quite as good as Germany” disclaimer.

Well, I guess that’s fair.

Considering what Korea might become in the future, it’s not impossible.

Of course, it all depends on having an exceptional leader.

To be honest, I believe it’s the quality of leadership—not national character—that determines success.

I don’t buy into the “Koreans are diligent and virtuous” kind of patriotic fluff.

The problem is, if you ask whether I’m in a position to pull this nation up by the collar, the answer is… not really.

“I am, unfortunately, a woman.”

“Doesn’t the Minister of Foreign Affairs hold the military power?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“Technically, Park Seo Sangmu holds the post, but since most of the military officers in the Empire have been replaced by Sapo members, he has no real control over the army.”

Right now, Lee Beomyun holds all the power.

It’s a bizarre system where the Foreign Minister effectively commands an army the size of a small nation.

And I’m just a Sapo officer.

Basically, the commander of the Manchurian army.

“To be precise, only the Manchurian army. Of course, some of our officers are assigned to the central army as well.”

‘Why am I even having this conversation with a German naval admiral?’

“If the German Empire supports your fleet, could the Foreign Minister gain more influence in politics?”

“Wait… are you saying you’re going to lend me support?”

“That’s what it sounds like.”

“I don’t know much about this Cooper fellow.”

“I only know the basics, and even that, I had to look up on Daeyeokgal.”

Now I’ve got another name to research.

“What kind of orders did your Kaiser give you, Admiral?”

“Since Britain, Russia, and Japan have all lost their influence over the Korean Peninsula, Korea must now serve as a central axis.”

‘Right. I already had a rough idea of that.’

‘The question is what that actually means.’

‘Is Germany bluffing, or are they seriously trying to help us?’