96
The artisans brought by the Ottaibi family were heading towards District 51 under the watchful eyes of the soldiers.
"What on earth happened... why am I with you..."
Among the two artisans, the tall one glared at his companion with a face full of grievance.
However, the shorter artisan responded with a relaxed expression.
"Well, my body is a bit tired, but I’ve come to a country I’ve never seen before, right? Maybe I can break free from the narrow life of a common glassmaker in Murano and truly change my life!"
"Are you kidding? Is this a good thing? Is it? The chances of changing your life for the better are much lower than the chances of ruining it!"
"Wow, the great Raphael is cursing? Wow! Just that alone makes the trip worthwhile!"
"That guy is called a friend... Lord... how did it come to this..."
The tall Raphael looked up at the sky, grumbling.
His companion patted him on the shoulder and said, "Don’t be like that. After all, we’ve known each other since we were eight."
"Damn it!"
Raphael and his companion Pietro had become friends on Murano Island.
They met when they entered the famous glassmaker guild on the island as apprentices and had become inseparable friends over time.
After enduring a long apprenticeship, they were now recognized as journeymen in their early twenties.
"Pietro is 23, and Raphael is 22, right?"
"Yes, Master."
"It’s not easy to become a journeyman at that age. It means you both have talent and have worked hard. Congratulations."
"Thank you, Master."
At the guild master's praise, both lowered their heads.
"You both can read, right?"
"Yes, Master."
Upon their response, the guild master handed them a letter sealed with wax.
"We have decided to break the long-standing taboo and revive the tradition of journeyman travel in our guild. This is a letter of introduction to the glass guild master in Florence. Go to Florence and gain experience."
"Understood."
"Thank you!"
Raphael answered calmly to the guild master's command, while Pietro responded loudly with a beaming face.
The guild master then turned to Raphael.
"Raphael, the reason I’m sending you two together is because of that guy. Pietro, he has good skills, but he’s too reckless. I worry about what kind of trouble he might cause, and I also worry about him getting into trouble. Make sure to guide him well."
Hearing the guild master's words, Raphael's expression turned slightly sorrowful as he asked, "Does it have to be him?"
"That reckless one listens to you well, at least."
"... Understood."
Thus began their journey as journeymen.
When deciding their route by looking at the map, Raphael simply chose the land route, but Pietro insisted on taking the sea route.
"Why climb over mountains when we can take a boat from Genoa? It might take a bit longer, but we can get there faster!"
"What if we run into pirates?"
"Is the land route safe? What about bandits? The odds are fifty-fifty anyway. Let’s take a boat from Genoa and use the extra time to explore! I’ve heard there’s a lot to see in Genoa, Pisa, and Florence!"
"Is that so?"
Raphael was tempted by Pietro's last words.
After being stuck on Murano Island for over fifteen years, he too felt restless.
Eventually, they boarded a ship in Genoa.
Unfortunately, they were captured by pirates and sold into slavery in Alexandria.
"Pietro, don’t you worry about Alexandria or here?"
"Worry? What good does it do to worry in advance?"
"Ugh..."
At Pietro's optimistic response, Raphael let out a long sigh.
"Man! Even those fierce pirates treated us well because we’re glassmakers, right? They even took off our handcuffs and shackles as soon as we arrived! They wouldn’t turn us into slaves, would they?"
"That may be true, but..."
"Cheer up! We’ve come to the 'East' that we’ve only heard about! The East!"
"Damn the Travels of Marco Polo..."
When Pietro mentioned the 'East,' Raphael cursed.
During their apprenticeship, one of the things that helped them endure the hard labor was the 'Travels of Marco Polo.' Imagining the distant lands mentioned in the book helped them forget their fatigue.
As Raphael grumbled at the mention of the 'East,' he suddenly glared at Pietro.
"You! Did you do this on purpose?"
"No way! Even I wouldn’t take such a gamble!"
Pietro, who strongly denied Raphael's accusation, turned his gaze around and exclaimed, "Hey! There are beauties here too! A lot of them! Hey! Hey! Raphael! Look at this road! It’s paved with Cementum!"
"Huh?"
At Pietro's words, Raphael looked down.
"This is..."
With wide eyes, Raphael examined the road.
It was not a cobbled path but a smooth road of considerable width.
It was something he could never see in Italy.
Surely, the famous Appian Way would not be this wide and flat.
"Have we really arrived in the East? Could this be the capital?"
Raphael raised his eyes and surveyed the surroundings of the city.
Upon arriving at District 51, the two waited in a small room for their meal.
"I'm so hungry..."
Feeling hungry, Pietro opened the door, and the soldier guarding the entrance glared at them with fierce eyes.
"Hey! I’m hungry!"
Pietro pointed to his mouth with his finger and rubbed his stomach, gesturing his request.
The soldier, seeing Pietro's gestures, spoke to the soldier next to him and then left.
A moment later, the soldier returned with a large tray covered with a cloth.
"Gratias."
Pietro accepted the tray and lightly expressed his gratitude before bringing it inside.
"This smells good!"
Sniffing the aroma, Pietro uncovered the cloth.
"Is this fried food? By the size and shape, it looks like fish?"
At Raphael's assessment, who approached upon smelling the food, Pietro made a grimace.
"Oh no... I don’t like fish... it reminds me of painful memories from Murano..."
During their apprenticeship, when they were hungry, they would go to the nearby coast to fish and eat until they were sick of it.
As Pietro hesitated, Raphael took a piece of the fried food and took a bite.
"It's chicken! It’s delicious!"
"Chicken?"
In an instant, the two devoured the pieces of fried chicken on the tray.
In that moment, as they indulged in the food, they completely forgot where they were and what their situation was.
It was a moment when the two became addicted to the fried chicken.
"What did you say?"
After finishing the deal with the Ottaibi family and returning to District 51, Hyang's eyes widened in disbelief at the report he received.
"Is it true?"
"Yes, it is. The two of them together devoured eight pieces of fried chicken."
"Huh... did the Ottaibi family bring these people here starving?"
Hyang was at a loss for words.
To be honest, a typical Joseon person could eat one piece of fried chicken alone.
A good eater could manage two pieces, and occasionally someone could eat three.
However, four pieces was an unprecedented record.
Anyway, after entering his office in District 51, Hyang called for Raphael and Pietro.
He then asked Hassan to translate.
"I know Latin, but I can’t do it properly, so Hassan will handle the translation."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Good. Did you enjoy your meal?"
Through Hassan, Hyang's question was met with satisfied nods from the two.
"It was very delicious."
"I'm glad you were satisfied. Now, let’s talk about your situation in earnest."
Hearing Hyang's words through Hassan, the two looked at him with tense expressions.
"First of all, let me clarify that you are not slaves."
"Thank you!"
At Hyang's words, both, especially Raphael, expressed their heartfelt gratitude.
"What you will do in our Joseon is to teach and supervise the making of glass. The initial work period is ten years. After that, we will negotiate again. Is there any objection?"
"Is it ten years at first? What about after that?"
"We can either extend the contract or allow you to return to your homeland."
"Will you really let us return to our homeland?"
At Raphael's question, Hassan immediately replied.
"The Crown Prince is a man who keeps his promises. And if he were not going to keep his promise, he wouldn’t have freed you as free men."
After a moment of contemplation, Raphael was the first to respond.
"Alright. Since we have to rely on the goodwill of the Joseon prince right now, we have no choice."
"... I agree as well."
As the always cautious Raphael made the first decision, Pietro had no choice but to follow.
"We will accept the contract."
Through Hassan's translation, Hyang moved on to the next point.
"The next part might be the most important. How much will your salary be?"
At Hyang's question, Pietro immediately answered.
"Eight ducats of silver!"
At Pietro's answer, Raphael looked at him with wide eyes.
In reality, their salary was two ducats of silver per month.
'This crazy guy!'
Raphael cursed Pietro inwardly.
He understood why Pietro said that.
This Eastern country needed glassmakers, which was why they brought them here.
They recognized them as free men and were sure to pay them a salary, so Pietro thought it was a golden opportunity and inflated the numbers.
'What if they find out it’s a lie? Did you think to inflate the numbers in this situation? You crazy fool!'
Raphael continued to glare at him, but Pietro just smiled and looked as if everything was fine.
"How much is eight ducats of silver?"
At Hyang's question, Hassan pondered for a moment before answering.
"It’s been a long time since I left my hometown, so it’s hard to compare, but if I recall correctly, a skilled artisan earned about four ducats of silver per month."
"How long has it been since you left your hometown?"
"Twenty years."
"Hmm..."
'Considering the price increase... but at their age... is it a bluff? It must be a bluff.'
Convinced it was a bluff, Hyang silently observed the two.
The tall man was nervously glancing around, while the short man was smiling broadly at Hyang.
As Hyang looked at the two, he made a decision.
"Four nyang of silver."
At Hyang's decision, Hassan immediately translated for the two.
"Four nyang of silver. That’s equivalent to four ducats."
"Eight..."
As Pietro continued to insist on eight ducats, Raphael interrupted him.
"Four ducats! That’s fine! We’ll go with four ducats!"
"We’ll go with four ducats."
At Hassan's words, Hyang nodded.
"Good. Then let’s prepare the contract."
Once the contract, written in both Chinese characters and Latin, was prepared, Pietro and Raphael carefully read through it.
"Is the content the same on both sides?"
"Yes."
At Hassan's answer, Raphael, after a moment of contemplation, extended his hand.
"Give me the pen."
As Hassan took out a golden pen, Hyang interjected.
"Oh, I have an additional condition. You must learn our Joseon language within three months. Until then, you will receive a monthly salary of two nyang of silver. If you cannot learn it within three months? Then you will only receive one nyang of silver per month until you learn it."
"Isn’t that a bit too much?"
When Raphael protested, Hyang replied directly without translation.
"Do you think Hassan or I will follow you around every day to translate?"
"..."
At Hyang's words, it was Pietro who stepped in instead of Raphael.
"What if we learn it faster than three months?"
At Pietro's question, Hyang chuckled.
"Are you confident?"
"Isn’t it something you only know by trying?"
"If you learn our Joseon language faster than three months, I will add one nyang of silver to your monthly salary."
As soon as Hyang finished speaking, Pietro handed a piece of paper to Hassan.
"Please write down that condition!"
Thus, after signing and sealing the revised contract, Pietro and Raphael returned to the room assigned to them.
"For the time being, Hassan will take care of them."
"I will obey, Your Highness. However..."
"What are you worried about?"
"Isn’t four nyang of silver too much? That amount is already equivalent to the salary of the current officials at the ninth rank."
At Hassan's remark, Hyang responded with a nonchalant expression.
"Given their skills, they are worth that much. And if they can produce that value, it will be fine."
In that moment, Hassan felt a pang of pity for the two Italians.