Chapter 289: The Occupation

“Are government slaves not allowed to marry?” Feng Zongze asked intentionally.

“Marriage is possible, but it’s a difficult process. Much of it is not up to oneself.” Seeing the gentle words and concerned attitude of this “Kunren” (shaved-head) high official, Park Deok-hwan felt a warmth in his heart. They were of humble birth, ordered about on a daily basis. Even the official courtesans who were slightly favored by the officials treated them like servants. He couldn’t help but recount the entire process of preparing for his marriage, which unconsciously turned into a litany of his grievances. He spoke of how he and his younger brother were exiled to the island as youths, tasting all the hardships of the world. As he spoke, tears streamed down his face. Suddenly, he realized he had lost his composure and quickly wiped his face with his sleeve.

“I have made a fool of myself before my lord.”

“So you’ve endured so much hardship. It truly hasn’t been easy for you to get by here, raising your younger brother all by yourself.” Feng Zongze nodded to himself. Indeed, the will to survive is very strong. A son from a wealthy official’s family, dressed in silks and fed on jade, who, after falling from grace, endured humiliation to survive, gritted his teeth through all the hardships to stay alive on this Jeju Island, and even managed to raise his younger brother to adulthood—it was a rare inspirational story. He praised him a few times and then intentionally asked:

“Do you and your brother both know how to read and write?”

“Yes, my lord. Both my younger brother and I were taught to read as children. However, my brother lost his schooling at a young age and did not learn to write. He only recognizes some characters. There are no books or writing materials on this island, so it has not been easy to teach him.”

“Oh, so you’ve both studied before. You must be from either the yangban or the middle class, certainly not the lowly commoners.”

At the mention of his former status, Park Deok-hwan began to cry again. “I have shamed my ancestors. I was originally the son of a middle-class family.” This touched a sore spot in his heart, and he could no longer hold back, collapsing to the ground and wailing.

This is exactly the effect I wanted, Feng Zongze thought. People like him, out of despair, had sealed away their past. Now that he had broken the seal, the ensuing pain was heart-wrenching.

What would inevitably follow was extreme hatred.

For the sake of revenge, they would even be willing to burn themselves to ashes.

Feng Zongze said nothing, allowing him to weep and vent his emotions freely.

That evening, Feng Zongze had someone give the brothers a bath, put them through the full purification process, and issued them brand new uniforms for naturalized citizens. Then he took them to eat.

Afterward, Feng Zongze had them placed in solitary confinement to give them ample time to digest what he had said.

He believed that once the flame of revenge was lit in their hearts, it would not be easily extinguished.

The next morning, at the crack of dawn, when the staff brought the clean-shaven Park brothers to the Seongsan base and led them into Feng Zongze’s large tent, Feng Zongze already knew they had made up their minds to be collaborators.

“Very good,” he said with an approving nod. “Sit.”

The Park brothers didn’t dare to sit. Feng Zongze said, “Since you have been purified, you are now our comrades. Comrades are those who share the same ideals and goals.”

“I am willing to follow my lord’s orders!” Park Deok-hwan said loudly.

He then, following the contents of the 1631 New Edition Mass Propaganda Manual, Korea Work Volume (Draft for Comments) compiled by the Propaganda Department, explained some basic concepts about the transmigrator group to them. Afterward, he inquired about the situation in Jeju town.

“We have already told you everything we know about Jeju town,” Park Deok-hwan said, somewhat troubled. Although he was eager to start working for his new master to prove his sincerity, he was, after all, a government slave. He only knew the superficial things and was ignorant of the deeper matters.

“It doesn’t matter. Jeju is already in our grasp. We just need guides,” Feng Zongze said, his eyes fixed on Park Deok-hwan.

Park Deok-hwan did not hesitate. “This humble one is willing to lead the way.”

Park Deok-maeng was a little uneasy. “Big brother!”

“It’s alright,” Park Deok-hwan reassured his brother. “We brothers are both willing to lead the way for our lord! Through fire and water, we will not flinch.”

“Good,” Feng Zongze slapped the table. “Follow me!”

He then strode over and opened the tent flap facing the sea.

Feng Zongze’s tent was right on the beach of Seongsan. The sky was now bright, and the sun was shining. On the sparkling sea at the foot of Seongsan, the masts of a dozen warships and H800s stood tall, their cannons gleaming.

The Morning Star flag, the naval ensign, and the Iron Fist flag fluttered in the morning breeze. Dozens of medium and small launches were ready to depart, their smokestacks billowing black smoke. Every boat was filled with soldiers armed to the teeth, their sharp bayonets glinting in the sunlight.

The Park brothers were stunned. They felt dizzy, and their legs gave way, causing them to kneel on the ground. After a long moment, Park Deok-hwan said with a trembling voice, “This humble one deserves to die. I was blind! To think…” He suddenly realized he had spoken his thoughts aloud and was too frightened to continue.

“To think we were Wokou, pirates, right?” Feng Zongze laughed heartily, feigning magnanimity. He was inwardly very pleased: What is the air of a hegemon? This is the air of a hegemon!

When the American warships and vessels covered the sea off Okinawa, everyone who saw it had to admit that the Americans were qualified to establish a “new world order.”

Strength is the best kind of hegemonic air.

“Yes, this humble one was foolish…” Park Deok-hwan bowed even lower.

“Let’s go. We’ll go to Jeju together.”

“Yes, my lord—Chief.”

It took less than an hour to break into Jeju town: fifty minutes of preparation, ten minutes of assault. The Japanese Company of the Public Security Army once again led the charge, scaling the wall and seizing the gate with the support of rifle fire.

When Zichuan Xiuchi and his Battōtai, with another wild roar, stormed the city wall, beheaded the general, broke the lock, and opened the gate, all resistance within Jeju town collapsed. Several hundred Joseon soldiers were routed by the sweeping attack of tachi and Southeast Asian-style rifles.

Adjutant Yi Dae-ha had originally thought the enemy were Wokou and was still waiting for reinforcements from the Jeolla Province navy. Moreover, he had received news that the enemy was still lingering around Seongsan, so he had not expected a sudden attack. He had initially believed that defending Jeju would not be a problem, but the “Wokou’s” firearms were extremely fierce, and in just a few volleys, the defenders on the wall were routed. When he received the news that the city gate had been taken and the enemy had entered the city, he hastily led over a hundred of his elite personal guards to counterattack, intending to push the enemy back.

Yi Dae-ha’s assessment was quite accurate: the enemy was small in number, but their strength lay in their ferocity and sharp firearms. Now that they had scattered the regular troops, who had little fighting spirit, in a single charge, if he could just hold his ground and halt the enemy’s momentum, the routed soldiers might be able to rally, and the outcome would still be uncertain.

He donned his armor and bow, but did not ride a horse. Instead, he directly carried a Ming-style longsword of the border troops and led his personal guards straight towards the city gate. Just as he turned a street corner, he saw Zichuan at the head of the charge, brandishing his tachi and shouting “Banzai!” He immediately drew his bow and fired an arrow. The dozen or so personal guards behind him also let loose a volley of arrows.

Zichuan, who was charging at the front, let out a scream and fell to the ground. Screams and groans also erupted from the “Battōtai” around him, as three or four men were immediately hit by arrows.

“Fire!”

The Southeast Asian rifles in the crowd belched thick white smoke, and a dozen of Yi Dae-ha’s personal guards were also shot down. The two sides then clashed, fighting with longswords, tachi, and bayonets.

The melee lasted less than five minutes before Yi Dae-ha’s personal guards could no longer hold out—close-quarters combat is a great test of discipline and training. The Joseon personal guards were clearly inferior to the Public Security Army in both, not to mention the disparity in equipment and physical strength.

Yi Dae-ha was wounded in the melee and was protected by his personal guards as they fought and retreated. The Public Security Army, having lost a few men, fought with bloodshot eyes. Before long, the personal guards’ formation broke, and all the guards around Yi Dae-ha were killed. He himself was shot and killed by a rifle bullet.

The death of Jeju’s highest military commander signaled the collapse of all resistance. The soldiers threw down their weapons and fled in all directions, swarming towards the city gates in an attempt to escape. But at every gate, ambushes had been laid. In particular, the snipers of the special recon team used their cold shots to intimidate the fleeing soldiers and prevent their escape.

The Magistrate of Jeju, Yi Jin-gyeong, in a panic, was helped onto his horse by his personal guards and servants, attempting to open the south gate and flee. However, as soon as he exited the gate, he was met by a continuous “roll call” from the snipers lying in ambush outside. His guards used their bodies to shield him as they charged out. Then, a machine gun let out a fierce roar, and Yi Jin-gyeong and his fifteen men were all killed.

Although there was fighting and minor chaos in Jeju town, it did not last long. Soon, the Public Security Army and the regular army soldiers had control of the entire city.

On January 12, 1632, Jeju town was declared to have fallen. With this, all three towns of Jeju were now in the hands of the Jeju Island Task Force.

The people of Jeju town hid in their small houses in fear, trembling as they awaited the impending disaster. Many of them had either witnessed the brutality of the Wokou firsthand or had heard about it from their elders. Now, seeing a group of bald, shaved-headed Wokou charging in with their great swords and defeating the government troops, they could only resign themselves to their fate.

Rounding up the routed soldiers, collecting weapons, taking over warehouses and government offices, clearing the bodies, treating the wounded… The work of occupying the city proceeded in an orderly manner, managed by the trained and disciplined naturalized citizen cadres who strictly followed the City Entry Manual.

Feng Zongze and Xue Ziliang entered the Jeju Garrison together—it had been chosen as the headquarters for the Jeju Forward Command. In the garrison courtyard, a temporary flagpole had been erected, and the Morning Star flag was being raised. The two men stood at attention and saluted.

“Jeju Island is ours,” Feng Zongze said.

Although as of this day, they only controlled the three cities and the Seongsan base, because they had eliminated the island’s administrative center, the Joseon’s rule on the island had come to an end.

As for the several “forts” that had not yet been taken, having lost their command and supply base, they had effectively lost their original function. They were ripe fruits, ready to be picked at any time.