As True as a Dream

“I’ll ride it like my own! If you need to go somewhere, call me, not Song Yue’s staff. I’ll take you safely; you’ve hired a private chauffeur, think of it that way!” “That’s what I thought, come whenever I call. Don’t get distracted.” “Of course! I’ll come to you even if it means a mountain of knives or a sea of fire!” “Really? I can’t wait.” 

Hae-Joo nodded eagerly, glanced at Yi Ho, who smiled lazily, then jumped up and hugged him tightly around the neck, then pulled away.

 

Then she whimpered, the back of her neck flushing red.

 “We’re engaged, so a hug should be a big deal, right?” “Is it?” 

Hae-Joo arched her eyebrows mischievously, then turned and ran out of the house.

 

Meanwhile, alone in the living room, Yi Ho laughed hysterically.

 

The scent of the sunlit little body that had flown into his arms wafted through his nostrils.

 

So bold yet so shy.

 

It was too short.

 

Soon he heard the sound of a car starting outside, followed by the creaking and opening of an iron gate.

 

Yi Ho crossed the lobby and opened the door.

 

The car was already outside the gates and Hae-Joo, who had gotten out of the driver’s seat, was about to close the gates when she saw him and raised both hands in the air, waving happily.

 

Yi Ho’s black eyes suddenly lit up with gold.

 

Hae-Joo’s expression, which shouldn’t have been visible in the darkness and distance, was clearly visible.

 “Great.” 

His decision to lend her his car had been a good one.

 

He should have given her the Cadillac.

 

Judging by her reaction, even her precious Gu Eun-sil would take a back seat to her.

 

***

 

Two days later, Gyeongseong Station.

 

Hae-Joo entered the concourse wearing a yellow-orange checkered dress, her long hair tied back in a bun, and carrying a black suitcase.

 

She scanned the crowd, but Yi Ho was nowhere to be seen.

 

After looking around, Hae-Joo made her way to one of the less crowded pillars in the hall and stood.

 

Since she was a little earlier than her appointment time, she figured she could wait.

 

As she stared at the entrance to the station, her eyes caught a glimpse of the train schedule posted on the side.

 

Fengcheng (Shenyang). Changchun (Xinjing), Harbin, Xinzhou, Vladivostok….

 

Whenever she came to Gyeongseong Station, she would stare at this train schedule for the longest time.

 

Hae-Joo used to amuse herself by calculating the cost of traveling by boat or train.

 

She thought the rest of her life would be rosy if she left with enough money to play and eat for the rest of her life.

 

But she forgot about today.

 

Before she left the house, she kept looking in the mirror, checking her outfit and touching up her makeup.

 

Hae-Joo thought about how she would feed Yi Ho when they got to Gongju and how he would fit into the quiet village atmosphere, which was so different from Gyeongseong.

 

Hae-Joo was ridiculous.

 

To think she’d forgotten the one thing she’d always wanted to focus on in her life here!

 

Hae-Joo scratched her chin and turned away.

 

Something crumpled under her low-heeled Oxford shoes.

 

Looking down, she realized it was today’s newspaper that someone had thrown away.

 

Hae-Joo bent down and picked it up.

 “Superstitious atrocity or another Western ghost attack? Yesterday, a body was found in Tomak village in Sungin township. The body was that of Mr. Yang, an elderly resident of the shanty town, whose ankles were found…” 

After reading the article on the front page without thinking, Hae-Joo took a closer look at the article and saw a familiar list of events.

 

The article talked about the similarities between the case and three recent murders in which a lot of blood had been lost.

 

However, the police investigating the case had concluded that it was the work of a superstitious villager.

 

The killer, Mr. Kim, suffered from a disease that caused his toes to rot black, and he believed that cutting off someone’s healthy foot and boiling it would cure him.

 

However, this reporter speculates that this case may be the work of the same culprit as previous Western ghost attacks.

 

This is because the bodies found in this case also had their ankles cut off and a significant amount of blood was lost, and the police were unable to find the victims’ feet that the killer had taken and boiled.

 “Killing people because of superstition…?” 

A chill ran down Hae-Joo’s spine as she remembered the body she had seen on the path that day.

 

Whether it was a man who killed to cure his own illness or a killer who went by the name of Western Ghost, neither was normal.

 

What’s more, the article is unreliable because the reporter actually says that the Western Ghost is a

“Western Ghost”

and not just a nickname for a killer.

 

In other words, the bloodsucking vampire is the real killer.

 “…It’s worth throwing away.” 

Even though it was today’s newspaper, she could understand throwing it on the ground.

 

No basis, no evidence.

 “Is the body you saw that day the one in the article?” 

Hae-Joo, who had just finished crumpling up the newspaper with a shit-eaten face, turned around in surprise.

 

Yi Ho, wearing a dark gray checkered three-piece suit (pants, jacket, and vest) and a black fedora, was standing there with a suitcase in his hand, just like her.

 “You’re here?” 

Instead of answering, Yi Ho took the newspaper from her hand and quickly leafed through it.

 “Do you believe this article?” “No, I don’t. Does it make sense that you’re a vampire? The western ghosts they talk about in the newspaper aren’t real ghosts, they’re just nicknames for murderers, and superstitions are…” 

Hae-Joo thought back to the police who had pressed her that day at the police station.

 

Their intentions were clear.

 

After a series of similar murders, headquarters wanted to catch the culprit quickly, and the officers at the post tried to

“frame”

her for the crime after they found the body.

 

Of course, it never got off the ground.

 “The article about superstition can’t be true, and it’s strange that it’s only been two days and it’s already been solved. They’re probably just making up a culprit somewhere because they’re afraid it’ll make more noise, and they’re making fools out of Koreans….” 

Hae-Joo recalled an article that a pro-Japanese newspaper had published earlier.

 

The article said that Koreans are barbaric and ignorant because they are superstitious and have barbaric customs that stem from their stupidity.

 

It cited extreme examples, such as eating human flesh and using beatings to cure people, that would make a stranger think of Koreans as barbarians.

 “Eh, throw it away, I picked it up after someone threw it away.” 

Feeling bad, Hae-Joo crumpled up the newspaper in Yi Ho’s hand and threw it in the trash.

 

***

 

After reading that ridiculous newspaper, Hae-Joo’s mood had been sinking ever since.

 

She didn’t even feel like eating the boiled eggs and cider she had happily packed for the train ride.

 

The excuse the police had used to close the Sungin, shantytown case was so despicable and lame that she couldn’t swallow her tears.

 

What, cut off their feet and boil them?

 

No matter how poor and miserable they are, they are still human beings.

 

How could they do such a thing?

 

At best, the superstitions she’d encountered in the shantytown were things like,

“The magpie is crowing, so today’s luck will be good,”

or

“You should do burm on New Year’s Eve to ensure that the year will be free of disease,”

or

“If you dream of a great disaster, good things will happen to you.”

 

Even if a small minority of people believed in harmful superstitions, it’s unlikely that there were enough people crazy enough to actually practice them.

 

If that were the case, Gyeongseong would be a murderous, deadly field of corpses.

 

It’s all a deliberate, vicious, and cunning plot.

 “Boss…!” 

She swallowed her words as she tried to call out to Hae-Joo, who had been trying to relieve the pressure that had been on her stomach since she boarded the train.

 

He was lying half buried in the couch, his eyes closed as if he was asleep.

 

Hae-Joo got up, grabbed a blanket from the baggage compartment, wrapped it around him, and turned away quietly.

 

She wanted to take a walk.

 

Strolling through the back compartment to relieve her frustration, she crossed the dining car and raised an eyebrow.

 

The dining car was relatively empty, perhaps because the train had just left, but there was a group of people huddled around a table, clutching the newspaper she had inwardly cursed as garbage.

 

Two of them wore glasses, and the other looked a bit older.

 

Their somewhat haughty eyes and straight backs resembled the demeanor of the people she’d seen at Governor Saito’s birthday party.

 “This article is a mess, but you’re right about one thing.” “What, the atrocities caused by superstition?” “[Koreans are certainly superstitious. I’ve heard that if a man with chickenpox kisses a chicken, he will be cured instantly. Hahaha! No wonder they’re capable of such murder].” Visit my Ko-fi for discounted advance chapters!!