Fortune is fickle.
Jo Byeong-gi, heir of the Pungyang Jo clan—one of Joseon's two dominant factions.
Son of Jo Man-yeong, adopted son of Jo In-yeong.
At barely thirty, he had already risen to Vice Minister of Personnel, and it was widely believed that the court would soon revolve around him.
The Andong Kim clan still stood strong, but Kim Jwa-geun had effectively been exiled to Britain, and Kim Heung-geun had once been dismissed for corruption.
The only variable had been the king's fragile health—but even that had improved.
There had seemed to be no obstacles left.
Or so he thought.
Who could have imagined that he himself would end up living abroad, just like Kim Jwa-geun?
At first, he believed this was a temporary mission—to observe Western knowledge, select what was useful, and return.
But then—
"Consul-General?"
"Indeed. Joseon's path forward lies in rapidly adopting Western knowledge and strengthening itself. That requires restructuring our current, inadequate system."
"But… we already have Ambassador Kim Jwa-geun. Why must I remain here in such an unfamiliar position?"
"Until now, we have handled matters crudely due to ignorance. His Majesty believes it is time to establish proper roles—an ambassador for diplomacy, a consul for administration."
"…So I am to understand that the embassy and consulate are to be clearly separated?"
"Precisely."
"…Is this not merely placing Andong Kim influence here, and now countering it with Pungyang Jo?"
"What a narrow view. After seeing Britain for yourself, do you still think this is exile? If you refuse, I will recommend another promising young man in your place."
…He had a point.
The king must have had his reasons.
This was not exile—but positioning.
A balance of power.
Jo Byeong-gi quickly recalculated.
Reform was no longer a choice—it was survival.
And in that struggle, whoever built influence in Britain would hold overwhelming advantage.
Even ten years here—
he would still be in his forties.
An investment in the future.
Thus, Jo Byeong-gi, Vice Minister, died—
and Consul-General Jo Byeong-gi of Joseon was born.
Only for his first assignment to be—
"WHAT IS THIS?!"
—"Since there are few Joseon residents in Britain, you will assist the ambassador in managing the Exhibition."
A glorified assistant.
Promoting Joseon was expected—but this?
Still—
he picked up the printed materials.
"...What is this?"
They actually intended to distribute this?
"This isn't promotion—it's provocation… am I a shield?"
But—
perhaps that was the point.
Not a diplomat's move—
but a declaration.
Thirty years of Confucian belief clashed with reality—
but so be it.
An official obeys.
And when else would a Joseon scholar ever speak so boldly before Qing?
Jo Byeong-gi closed his eyes—
and embraced it.
The Exhibition progressed smoothly.
Though there were minor issues, nothing critical occurred.
The crowds were overwhelming.
London—and beyond—had gathered.
Even foreigners filled the space.
A resounding success.
The British pavilion, naturally, drew the largest crowds.
Technology, art—
and above all—
the Koh-i-Noor.
The "Mountain of Light."
Crowds surged endlessly.
Next came Prussia and France—
locked in competition.
But gradually—
France pulled ahead.
"Your Highness! Please sample this—our finest Bordeaux wines."
"Oh—Château Margaux?"
"Yes. And Château d'Yquem as well."
"Ha, thank you."
Unfair?
Perhaps.
But effective.
Wine drew the elite—
fashion and art captivated the masses.
"Killian is there—France must have something impressive."
"Look at those clothes!"
"France truly has elegance…"
Prussia, for all its discipline—
was losing ground.
And what of Spain and the United States?
Spain followed the usual path—
but America was different.
"Your Highness, agents have been placed in both pavilions."
"Find anything?"
"The United States shows strong innovation. Spain relies on colonial artifacts."
"As expected."
"And… American observers are watching Spain closely."
Of course they were.
Exactly as planned.
Europe competed through prestige—
but the real stage—
was Asia.
Still—
unexpected surprises appeared.
"Welcome to the Japanese pavilion!"
"Experience ninja training! Samurai combat!"
"Become a warrior!"
…A circus.
But an effective one.
Interactive exhibitions—
samurai, ninja—
irresistible to Europeans.
Japan drew massive crowds.
Though—
that painting…
Why was a Susanoo that looked suspiciously like me shaking hands with Amaterasu?
…They really didn't give that up.
Incredible persistence.
Still—
no festival is complete without conflict.
"Your Highness! There's a disturbance—Joseon and Qing!"
"Already?"
Right on time.
Following the guide—
a crowd had gathered.
"What is the meaning of this?!"
"We are conducting normal Exhibition activities."
"Then explain THIS!"
Guo Songtao waved a document furiously.
Even I had not seen the final version.
I read it.
[We wish to know: what is Joseon?
Joseon is an independent nation. Five thousand years of history.
We recognize Her Majesty Queen Victoria of the British Empire as the Emperor of the civilized world.
Joseon and Britain have concluded a treaty.
God save the British Empire—the Empire—and Joseon, a kingdom…]
…Well.
Translation issues aside, the message was clear. Joseon had declared, before the entire world, that it was no longer under Qing.
No wonder. That was a direct strike.
And Qing, had just had its button pressed.