Chapter 96

The glass artisans brought by the Otaibi family were heading to Area 51 under the watchful eyes of the soldiers.

“Why the hell… Why am I with you…?”

Among the two artisans, the taller one looked at his colleague with an expression as if the world had wronged him.

However, the target of his complaints, the shorter artisan, replied with a laid-back expression.

“Well, it was a bit tough physically, but we’ve come to a foreign land we’ve never seen before, right? Maybe we can escape the humdrum life of an ordinary craftsman in cramped Murano?”

“You idiot! Is this a good thing? A good thing, you say? The chance of our lives getting messed up is higher!”

“Wow, the great Raphael is cursing? Wow! Just for that, coming all the way here was worth it!”

“This bastard of a friend… Dear God… how did I end up with someone like this…”

Tall Raphael looked up at the sky and grumbled. Then his colleague patted him on the shoulder and said,

“Don’t be like that. We’ve known each other since we were 8.”

“Damn it!”

***

Raphael and his colleague Pietro had become friends on Murano Island.

Both had entered the renowned Murano glass guild as apprentices and had become close friends in no time.

Having gone through their apprenticeships, they were now in their early 20s and were recognized as journeymen1.

“Pietro is 23, and Raphael is 22, correct?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Becoming a journeyman at your age is no easy feat. It means you both have talent and have put in the effort. Congratulations.”

“Thank you, Master.”

Both bowed their heads in response to the guild master’s praise.

“You both can read and write, right?”

“Yes, Master.”

The guild master then handed them a letter sealed with wax.

“We’ve decided to revive the tradition of the journeyman’s travel. This is an introduction letter for the glass guild master in Florence. Go to Florence and gain experience.”

“Understood.”

“Thank you!”

While Raphael responded with a stoic face, Pietro thanked the guild master exuberantly.

The guild master then looked at Raphael.

“Raphael, the reason I am sending you both together is precisely because of that guy. Pietro has good skills but is too frivolous. I worry he might get into or suffer from an accident. You need to guide him well.”

Must it be me?”

“At least he listens to you.”

“…Understood.”

And so began their journeyman travel. While planning the route by looking at the map, Raphael simply chose to go by land, but Pietro insisted on taking the sea route.

“Why bother crossing mountains? Let’s take a ship from Genoa! It’s a bit of a detour, but it’s faster!”

“What if we get caught by pirates?”

“Is going by land safe? What about the bandits? Either way, the risk is 50-50. Let’s take a ship from Genoa and use the spare time for sightseeing! I heard there’s a lot to see in Genoa, Pisa, and Florence!”

“Should we?”

Pietro’s last words made even Raphael consider it. He, too, had felt stifled from working on Murano Island for over 15 years.

In the end, they took a ship from Genoa. Unfortunately, they were captured by pirates and sold as slaves in Alexandria.

***

“Pietro, you’re not worried, not being in Alexandria but instead here?”

“Why worry in advance?”

“Ah~”

Raphael sighed deeply at Pietro’s optimistic reply.

“Hey, even those ruthless pirates treated us well because we are glass artisans, right? They even unlocked our shackles as soon as we got there! They wouldn’t treat us as slaves!”

“True, but…”

“Cheer up! We’re in the ‘East’! The East!”

“Damn the ‘Record of the Eastern World’…”

Raphael cursed. One of the things that had gotten them through the hard days of apprenticeship was the ‘Record of the Eastern World’. Imagining the distant lands described in the book had helped them forget their fatigue.

“Is this really the East? Could this be Jipangu2?”

Raphael looked around the surroundings of Hanseong, captivated.

***

Upon arriving at Area 51, the two waited for Hyang in a small room.

“I’m hungry…”

Pietro, feeling his stomach growl, opened the door, only to be met with a stern glare from the soldier guarding it.

“Excuse me! I’m hungry!”

Pietro gestured to his mouth and rubbed his stomach, trying to communicate his needs through body language.

Observing Pietro’s gestures, the soldier exchanged some words with a comrade and left his post.

Moments later, the soldier returned with a sizable tray covered with a cloth.

“Gratias.” (Thank you.)

Pietro gratefully received the tray and went back into the room.

“It smells good, doesn’t it?”

Sniffing the air, Pietro uncovered the cloth on the tray.

“Is it fried? Judging by its size and shape, is it fish?”

Upon smelling the food, Raphael commented, and Pietro looked dejected.

“Darn it… I don’t like fish… It reminds me of the hard times in Murano…”

Back in the day, they would go fishing near the coast when hungry and had eaten more than their fill of fish.

As Pietro hesitated, Raphael picked up a piece of the fried dish and took a bite.

“It’s chicken? It’s delicious!”

“Chicken?”

In no time, the two had devoured the chicken on the tray. In that moment, they completely forgot where they were and what their circumstances were. They were utterly engrossed in the chicken.

* * *

“What did you say?”

Returning to Area 51 after wrapping up trade with the Otaibi clan, Hyang was bewildered by the report he received.

“Is this true?”

“Yes, the two of them together ate eight chickens.”

“Did the Otaibi clan starve them before bringing them here?”

Hyang was incredulous.

Frankly, even the average Joseon person could eat one chicken alone. Those who ate well could have two, and sometimes even three. But four was unheard of.

Either way, Hyang called Raphael and Pietro into his office at Area 51 and asked Hassan to interpret.

“I understand Latin, but not fluently. Let Hassan interpret.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Did you enjoy your meal?”

Through Hassan, the two nodded in satisfaction.

“The food was excellent.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Let’s talk about your future arrangements.”

Listening to Hyang through Hassan, both of them looked intently at him, their faces tense.

“Firstly, neither of you is a slave. Let’s make that clear.”

“Thank you!”

At Hyang’s words, both men, especially Raphael, expressed their gratitude.

“Your job here in Joseon will be to teach and oversee glassmaking. The term is initially ten years. Afterwards, we can renegotiate. Any objections?”

“Is it initially ten years? And after that?”

“We can either extend the contract or send you back home.”

“Will you really let us go back home?”

At Raphael’s question, Hassan responded immediately.

“The Crown Prince always keeps his promises. If he didn’t intend to keep them, he wouldn’t have set you free.”

Taking a moment to consider, Raphael spoke first.

“Fine. At this point, we have no choice but to rely on the goodwill of the Prince of Joseon.”

“…I agree too.”

Raphael, always cautious, had already made up his mind, leaving Pietro no choice but to agree.

“We accept the contract.”

With Hassan’s translation, Hyang moved on to the next point.

“So, how much were you paid?”

Pietro answered immediately.

“Eight silver ducats!”

Raphael stared at Pietro in disbelief; they were actually paid two silver ducats a month.

‘You idiot!’

Raphael knew why Pietro had inflated the number. Seeing their situation and knowing how much the Joseon needed glass artisans, Pietro saw this as a golden opportunity.

‘What if they find out you lied? Why would you inflate the numbers in this situation? You fool!’

Raphael kept shooting him disapproving glances, but Pietro just grinned back, seeming confident.

“So how much is eight silver ducats in terms of skill level?”

At Hyang’s question, Hassan pondered for a moment before answering.

“It’s been a long time since I left my homeland, but according to my childhood memories, skilled artisans would earn about four silver ducats.”

“How long ago did you leave your homeland?”

“Twenty years ago.”

“Hmm…”

“Considering the rising cost of living… even at their age… is it a scam? It must be a scam.”

Hyang, now certain that it was a scam, silently looked at the two men. The tall man kept shifting his eyes, looking visibly uncomfortable, whereas the short man was grinning and looking at Hyang.

Hyang then made up his mind.

“Four silver coins.”

Upon hearing Hyang’s decision, Hassan immediately translated it to the two men.

“Four silver coins. That’s four ducats if you prefer.”

“Eight silver…”

As Pietro insisted on eight ducats, Raphael interrupted him.

“Four ducats! Fine! We will do it for four ducats!”

“We will proceed with four ducats.”

At Hassan’s words, Hyang nodded.

“Good. Let’s prepare the contract.”

Once the contract, written in both Hanja and Latin, was drawn up, Pietro and Raphael read it carefully.

“Is the content the same on both sides?”

“Yes.”

Upon hearing Hassan’s answer, Raphael hesitated for a moment and then extended his hand.

“Hand me a pen.”

As Hassan took out a gold pen, Hyang interjected.

“Ah, I have an additional condition. You will learn our Joseon language within three months. Until then, I will pay you two silver coins a month. If you fail to learn it within three months, you will receive only one silver coin per month.”

“Isn’t that too harsh?”

As Raphael complained, Hyang replied directly, without needing a translation.

“Do you expect me or Hassan to follow you around and translate for you?”

“…”

Hyang’s words silenced Raphael and prompted Pietro to speak up.

“What if we learn it faster than three months?”

Hyang chuckled at Pietro’s question.

“Confident, are we?”

“Isn’t that something we’d have to try to find out?”

“If you learn our Joseon language faster than three months, I will add one more silver coin per month.”

Before Hyang could finish, Pietro handed a piece of paper to Hassan.

“Include that condition as well!”

And so, with the modified contract signed and sealed, Pietro and Raphael returned to their designated rooms.

“Please keep an eye on them for the time being, Hassan.”

“I understand, Your Highness. However…”

“What concerns you?”

“Isn’t four silver coins per month too generous? With that amount, it exceeds the salary of our current officers of rank 9.”

Upon hearing Hassan’s concern, Hyang nonchalantly responded.

“If their skills are worth that much, then so be it. Besides, they better make it worth the cost, right?”

For a moment, Hassan felt sorry for the two Italians.

***

a trained worker who is employed by someone else[↵]Old name for Japan[↵]

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!

Report chapter

Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter