The Empire I Create Chapter 8

Chapter 8. D-7

Under the heavy clouds over Jeju Island, final preparations for the time-travel experiment were in full swing. Over the past week, Hamin had been busily packing up the supplies and manpower (or rather, robots) he would take into the past once “Time-Warp D-Day” arrived. It was a colossal undertaking no one had ever attempted, and his emotions swung between excitement and anxiety.

Together with his AI, Thanos, Hamin first had to tackle the question, “Which century should we go to, exactly?” The data they had suggested that spatial relocation wasn’t possible—he could only move through time at the current location on Jeju Island. Moreover, there was an estimated one-kilometer radius error for the landing spot, and about a hundred years’ margin of error in the time period. So, while he might dream of going to ancient Rome or medieval Europe, the reality was that he’d be landing somewhere on Jeju, possibly during the Three Kingdoms, the Silla Dynasty, the Goryeo Dynasty, or the Joseon Dynasty.

“So, maybe the 13th-century Goryeo era would be ideal…?”

Hamin studied the historical timeline displayed on his truck’s monitor and weighed his options. If he planned to build a new system of government and foster industrial development that could shape the entire world, he thought about the Joseon era—but by then, global industrialization and the age of exploration were underway, and Joseon’s neo-Confucian, highly centralized system was deeply entrenched. The Silla era was too ancient. Goryeo, on the other hand, was a period influenced by the Mongol Empire, with extensive trade networks across Eurasia. Plus, the Americas—home to the modern superpower United States—had yet to be a factor in world power at that time.

When Hamin asked Thanos for confirmation:

“Given what you’ve outlined, the 13th century appears to be the best fit, sir.”

Once he learned from Dr. Michael Kim that approximately 100 square meters of space could be transferred via the time warp, Hamin was relieved to discover that he could bring the entire truck—complete with its portable nuclear reactor, twelve Optimus robots, weapons, drones, 3D printer, and spare parts. Hamin had grown so used to living alongside AI and Optimus units for the past few years that the thought of surviving without them in a medieval era felt daunting.

He also acquired a one-ton trailer to attach to the truck, stocking it with crop seeds that could thrive in harsh soil. The Goryeo period didn’t have access to the abundance of grains typical of the modern day. So, he gathered various seeds—corn, potatoes, wheat, rice, and other high-yield, disease-resistant varieties, along with chili peppers, tomatoes, and soybeans (all of which were unknown in 13th-century Korea), plus some medicinal herb seeds. They were vacuum-sealed for long-term storage. He also packed plenty of ready-to-eat food for the initial settlement period, including energy bars, candies, and canned goods—like someone prepping for an international trip. More excitement than fear filled his heart as he bustled around making all these preparations.

Hamin owned twelve Optimus robots in total. Two of them he took to a local “robot skin shop” in Jeju:

“Hello, I’d like to have custom skins applied to these two P30-model Optimus robots.”

A designer at the shop—one of two women working there—gave him a cynical look.

“P30 is a pretty new model. And you want them skinned in the middle of a war? I don’t really get it, but fine, leave them here. It’ll take about two weeks.”

She was curt, but given her display robots and the look in her eyes, Hamin sensed she was a skilled artist who took great pride in her work.

“What if I paid double? Could it be done in three days?”

“Money isn’t the issue. With all the bad news from the war, it’s hard to focus on work as it is—I’m not about to do overnight shifts. Try somewhere else.”

“How about I buy those displayed male and female P30 skins over there, the ones you’ve already made? I’ll pay twice what they’re worth.”

“You have a good eye. Those are unique display pieces and not for sale—but nobody else is coming in for custom skins nowadays, so fine. As you said, double the price, and I need payment up front. Bring your robots in, shut them down, and we’ll get to work.”

Hamin nearly protested that this was price-gouging, but he was in a hurry, so he agreed and paid the designer.

Three days later, he picked up the two robots—a male and a female model. Once powered on, they looked almost indistinguishable from humans. Meanwhile, the other ten Optimus units remained in the truck’s cargo area, still equipped with their combat and work modules. He named the human-like pair “Hyung-jun” (appearing mid-30s male) and “Mi-ji” (appearing late-20s female). The remaining ten had exposed metal frames and armored exoskeletons. Though they looked more like mannequins than humans, they boasted superior work and combat capabilities. Hamin also packed ten ponchos large enough to cover them from head to toe in case he needed to mask their mechanical forms.

On the night before D-Day, Hamin was doing one last round of organizing in a warehouse-cum-base-camp on the outskirts of Jeju. Outside, a harsh ocean wind whipped across the ruins of abandoned facilities, casting eerie shadows. A tense silence hung in the air as he methodically stashed energy bars into his backpack. He couldn’t help wondering:

“What do I really want? Am I trying to become some hero who saves humanity, or do I just want to escape this destroyed future?”

Deep inside, his ambition was growing clearer. He’d long told himself he was aiming for a “better world” by returning to the past—but now that the moment was near, he felt not only excitement but a creeping unease.

“Hyung-jun, Mi-ji, is the battery situation okay?”

In the corner of the warehouse, Hamin opened the robots’ chest panels to inspect their battery levels and various modules.

“Yes, sir. The current battery is at 98%. The two spare packs are also fully charged.” (Hyung-jun)
“The AI main processor is fully synced with Thanos.” (Mi-ji)

Hamin nodded.

“Good. Be prepared for possible conflict situations. The small tasers under your shoulders and your mini-drone control modules are operational?”

“Yes, all systems are confirmed functional, ready to engage if needed.” (Hyung-jun)
“Current system error probability is below 1%.” (Mi-ji)

Aside from these two humanoid robots, the other ten stood lined up in the warehouse and inside the truck’s cargo bay, with exposed steel frames. If necessary, they could unleash overwhelming force on a 13th-century battlefield.

Around midnight, the darkness outside thickened. Hamin stepped out into the cold night air, gazing at the silhouette of his truck looming in the dim light.

“Am I trying to build a brand-new world for myself?”
He felt his chest tighten with a mixture of ambition and dread. Yes, he’d declared he wanted to save the future from the aftermath of World War III, but he also felt a stirring desire to become the founder of a new empire—an allure he was only now acknowledging.

By 3 a.m., Hamin stretched out on a makeshift cot and drifted into a dream. Yet again, his sleep was haunted by the roar of Mongol cavalry, the stench of blood from Goryeo soldiers, and the thunderous noise of some mysterious flying war machine overhead. He saw Mongolian horsemen riding across a dusty plain, lances raised, only to scatter in terror when this advanced modern machine—maybe a truck, maybe a gunship—attacked them from the sky. Hamin watched the scene as though drunk on victory. But then, abruptly, he saw the post-2027 future he’d left behind—a devastated hellscape where people in gas masks screamed in anguish. A voice inside told him, “It’s too late.” Fear wrenched him awake.

The brief but intense nightmare ended at nearly 7 a.m. Outside, he could hear the truck engine idling. Today was D-Day, the morning of the audacious time-warp experiment.

Hamin got up, rinsed his face, and stood before a mirror. His face looked drawn and exhausted, but there was a strange sparkle in his eyes.

“I’m ready. I can do this.”

He quelled his swirling emotions—whether his cause was saving a world destroyed by war and climate change, or seizing the chance to establish his own empire, he had resolved to push forward.

He stepped outside into the cool air under a sky heavy with dark clouds. Hyung-jun and Mi-ji (the two humanoid robots) were already set in work mode, and the other ten Optimus units waited in the cargo hold, ready to power up at a single command.

“Hyung-jun, Mi-ji—board the truck.”

With that short order, the two robots quietly climbed into the cabin, while the other ten remained in the cargo compartment, their red LED eyes glowing faintly as though in sleep mode. Hamin slid into the driver’s seat and, forcing his expression to remain calm, started the engine. Its low, resonant hum cut through the dawn light as he eased forward.

Soon, this truck and its trailer would be loaded into a massive container at the Silent Gateway facility. Inside it were all his resources, his robots, and the burning desire to transform the future—about to burst across the boundaries of time.

“There’s no turning back now. Once we land in the past—whether it’s on some war-torn battlefield or in a new kingdom—I’m going to shape it according to my will.”

Pressing the accelerator, Hamin envisioned the tumult that lay ahead. Would this risky experiment succeed in delivering him to the Goryeo era? And if so, what new stage awaited him there?

Leaving behind the ruins of 2030 Jeju, he sped toward the destiny that would soon place him in the midst of 13th-century Korea.