No Country, But Plenty of Pride (1)
The morning light hit me, and my eyes snapped open on their own. A strong, powerful morning! The moment I got up, I checked the progress on restoring my Status Window.
Restoring the Status System.
Reinstalling the Status System on the ghost.
Reinstalling… 92.33%
Time remaining: 2 days, 5 hours, 21 seconds
Good.
Thanks to absorbing a massive amount of Onigumo’s magic power, the Status Window had progressed to the point where it would finish restoring in just a few days. And there was something else I could feel now. In this body I’d possessed—Baek Chulyeon’s—the abilities I had were magic power sensitivity and aura. But because my magic power was overcharged and my senses had grown sharper, I had the distinct feeling that one more ability was lurking there.
It wasn’t unusual for an awakened person to have minor abilities in addition to their main one… I wonder what it is. Some kind of passive skill?
Aura activated the moment I gripped a weapon, infusing it with power. Magic power sensitivity let me sense the flow of magic around me when I focused. Those were active abilities triggered by specific actions, so they were easy to identify. But passive abilities that only kicked in under certain conditions were almost impossible to notice on my own without taking an awakening test or having access to the system.
Guess I’ll find out once the Status Window is back online.
I rose from the futon, stripped off the traditional nightclothes I’d slept in, and changed into my school uniform. It wasn’t a school day, but in this era, wearing a gakuran was considered proper attire even outside campus. Besides, I didn’t have any decent casual clothes anyway.
As I buttoned up the uniform, I caught my reflection in the mirror and suddenly wondered, By the way… why did I possess this particular body?
Possessing someone who was still alive felt off. When you thought about it, slipping into the body of someone who had just died seemed far more natural than taking over a living person. Did this Baek Chulyeon kid drink himself to death or something?
Now that I thought about it, the first thing the landlord’s daughter had said when I woke up was that I’d come home late after drinking and still wasn’t sober. Maybe that was exactly what happened. The small tin wastebasket in the corner was overflowing with empty soju bottles and snack wrappers. Drinking like that at such a young age… no wonder he died young.
If you want to live long, you should only drink in moderation with solid food to go with it…
With that thought in mind, I opened the door and stepped out.
“Going out, are you?” the landlord’s daughter asked. She was sitting on the wooden veranda, swinging her legs and staring blankly into space.
“Yeah. …Oh, right. The trash can in my room is full. Where should I empty it?”
“Just leave it. I’ll take care of it.”
“Mm. Thanks.”
I answered and started putting on my shoes when a question suddenly occurred to me. Her father worked as a rickshaw puller, leaving early in the morning and coming back late at night. Because of that, I’d only ever heard his voice from the next room and had never actually seen him, but… this girl didn’t seem to go out anywhere either. She gave off the impression that she stayed inside the house all day. Still, it didn’t look like there was that much housework to do in such a tiny place. She looked one or two years younger than me, so she was probably in her third year of middle school or first year of high school. I couldn’t imagine a girl that age holing up at home from morning till night.
This wasn’t the 21st century. There were no smartphones, no computers, no TV, no internet. What on earth did she do to pass the time inside all day…?
“By the way, do you just stay home all day? Don’t you ever go out and have fun?”
She answered in a listless tone, “What’s the point of going out? It’s just wasting money for nothing! Not like some people.”
The way she said “some people” made it pretty clear she was talking about me…
“You don’t even read the newspaper?”
“What’s so interesting in the newspaper? The world’s the same no matter how you look at it.”
She really seemed completely uninterested in anything. I asked again.
“I’m going into the city to look around. Want to come with me?”
“Huh?”
Her eyes widened in surprise, then she waved her hands frantically. “Aigoo! What are you saying, sir? What if someone hears…”
I’d only meant it as a casual invitation to hang out, but her horrified reaction and instant wall made me feel even more awkward…
“Uh… sorry.”
Feeling embarrassed, I hurried out through the main gate.
When I reached the streetcar stop, I paused for a moment. The day before yesterday I tried to buy books and magazines but couldn’t. A gate had suddenly opened and monsters poured out, so my plan to pick up reading material had been completely derailed. I briefly considered going back to the used bookstore, but… no. Since I’d been dropped into this world, experiencing things firsthand would be better than just reading about them in books. Seeing once is better than hearing a hundred times, after all. I should get out there and explore with my own two feet.
So today, I decided to wander around properly. I boarded a streetcar heading into the heart of Gyeongseong. My heart was pounding. They say other eras feel like entirely different countries. Technically this country belongs to Japan right now… Still, even the air felt different. It really was like time travel. Of course, I hadn’t come here by choice, so I couldn’t exactly call myself a carefree “traveler.” What should I call myself, then? An illegal time immigrant? A temporal refugee?
As I stood there gazing at the passing scenery, the streetcar soon entered the city proper. In the distance, an imposing white Baroque-style building came into view. The Government-General of Chosun building. In movies it always gets blown up… Unfortunately, in real history it stood firm on that spot until YS demolished it in 1996.
The streetcar stopped briefly in front of the Government-General, then turned left onto a wide boulevard. Gwanghwamun Avenue. The future Gwanghwamun Street. Oh… I think I’ve seen that building before. On the right side of the passing streetcar, a rectangular white building with one corner rising like a tower caught my eye. That was probably the future Seoul City Council building.
I kept watching the scenery roll by through the window until the streetcar reached Namdaemun. I got off there. I’d been curious to see Sungnyemun before it burned down, but more than that… So this is the famous Honmachi I’ve only heard about!
The Honmachi district—future Chungmuro—branching off from the Namdaemun five-way intersection was bustling even on a weekday morning. And this is right in the middle of the Second Sino-Japanese War. Surprisingly, I didn’t sense much of a wartime atmosphere on the streets. The only hint was the front page of a newspaper lying on the ground, showing a black-and-white photo of Japanese troops marching through ruined Chinese streets with a headline that read something like “Imperial Forces Enter Wuning in Triumph.”
Looking at people window-shopping and the lively streets, the war still felt like something happening in a faraway country. As I wandered around taking in the sights, I spotted a sign that read “Paradise Café.” Coffee! If there was one thing that defined modern Gyeongseong, it had to be coffee…! Even though I hadn’t eaten breakfast yet, I stepped inside without hesitation.
The place was quite spacious, but there weren’t many customers. I picked a suitable seat. The tables had sofas on both sides. Kind of unusual for a café. It tried to look upscale, but every window had heavy curtains drawn and the interior lighting was dim. Maybe that was the interior design trend of the era.
I ordered a cup of coffee and sat on the sofa when someone suddenly approached.
“My, my. A student coming to a place like this so early in the morning.”
A woman sat down right next to me. She was wearing heavy perfume. “How cute~. Are you Chosunese? Or Nihonjin?”
“What does it matter if I’m Chosunese or Nihonjin?”
It wasn’t just one woman. Three or four older girls with thick white makeup and short dresses plopped down on the sofas around me, front and sides.
“Anyway, aren’t you going to drink? Why just coffee?”
“Nobuko, you’re trying to get a customer drunk first thing in the morning!”
“Why not? He looks like a rich young master who came to wet his throat because it’s hot already… Hey, waiter! Bring us one Kirin beer!”
They pressed their bodies against me from both sides, giggling loudly, and ordered alcohol without even asking. I had definitely walked into the wrong place.
“I’m leaving.”
I shook off the scary older women, ran to the counter, pulled out my wallet, and asked, “How much?”
“One won and fifty jeon, please.”
Bus fare was five jeon. The beef-and-rice soup I’d eaten yesterday had been fifteen jeon. One cup of coffee for one won and fifty jeon? On top of being a shady establishment, this was outright price gouging. But I didn’t feel like arguing, so I tossed down a one-won bill and a fifty-jeon coin and bolted out the door.
Huff… huff…
I was bent over catching my breath when a voice rang out.
When I looked up, a neatly dressed man in his mid-thirties was standing there. Who the hell is this guy…? Why did everyone I ran into seem to know me? Still, this one did look familiar. After thinking for a moment, I realized he was one of the professors who had encouraged me yesterday after I took down the Onigumo.
Shit…
Of all places, I had to run into a school professor here? And the young professor continued.
That couldn’t happen! I’d already gone through enough trouble yesterday explaining myself about speaking Korean. I stammered, “N-no, that’s a misunderstanding. I just came in for a cup of coffee—”
“Yes! Just coffee! I had no idea this kind of place was… This is my first time in Gyeongseong, so…”
The well-dressed young professor patted my shoulder and laughed.
The place the professor took me to had good natural lighting, was decorated with various orchids, and had soft jazz music playing. Unlike the previous spot, this one actually felt like a modern café.
Phew…
“So… you’ll be taking swordsmanship classes, then?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I teach general subjects, so we probably won’t see each other often, but I look forward to working with you.”
The young professor who offered a handshake was Professor Saigane Seiji. He taught general education subjects—the kind taught in regular schools, like Korean, English, and math. Of course, at a school like this their importance was relatively low, but after talking with him, I found that Professor Saigane was surprisingly kind and decent. Well, not every Japanese person had to be a bad guy.
Still, as we talked, there was something… off.
“It would be nice if there were more Chosunese like you. Then Chosun would gradually become a better place to live.”
There it was—that condescending gaze from above.
“Chosunese like me?”
“Well, Shirabayashi. You’re very proactive about the Japan-Korea merger, aren’t you?”
He was referring to my surname, “Shirabayashi.” Since I used a Japanese-style family name, he seemed to assume I was completely pro-Japanese.
“Ah, yes…”
“The more we become one with Japan, the more Chosun will develop. The same goes for culture. Just like water flows from above to below…”
I really want to splash coffee in his face…
I couldn’t listen anymore and replied tactfully, “Not everything that flows down is good.”
At my answer, Professor Saigane burst out laughing.
He probably meant no harm, but that only made it more unpleasant. Then, suddenly—
“Nobody move!”
Three masked men burst in, each holding something in their hands. They were pistols.
…A robbery?
“Kyaaaaa!”
Several female customers who had been peacefully drinking coffee screamed at the sudden appearance of the robbers. The robbers pointed their guns and shouted.
“Quiet! If you scream, it won’t be fun!”
Were those real guns? Obviously they wouldn’t bring toys to commit armed robbery. The robbers waved their guns around and yelled again.
“Everyone, put your wallets and everything you have on the table!”
Damn it. Should I step in? But I had left my school sword behind. I looked around, but there was nothing nearby I could use as a weapon. Besides, the robbers weren’t only armed with guns. One of the three stepped forward, and a green cloud-like substance rapidly spread from his hand. People at the nearest tables began collapsing one after another. It was a paralyzing poison mist.
…So they’re awakened?
It was ridiculous. These guys had awakened abilities and all they did with them was rob cafés? Before I could dodge, the anesthetic mist reached me and the professor.
Professor Saigane, who had inhaled the mist, quickly covered his face. Red hives were bubbling up all over his skin as he desperately tried to hide the painful reaction.
“Professor! Are you okay?”
Shit. The guns were still pointed at us, leaving no opening to move. I covered my nose and mouth with my collar, but the mist was already seeping in.
Am I really going to go down like this…?
Even after the student tenant left, Ham Seoju sat on the wooden veranda for a long time, staring blankly at the sky. She kept thinking about what he had said—didn’t she get bored staying home all day? But she wasn’t in any position to go out and play, and she had no friends to play with anyway. Most of all, she couldn’t leave the house empty.
“Excuse me.”
The front gate creaked open and a man barged in. Wearing a leather jacket and a hunting cap, he pulled out a notebook and fountain pen and immediately asked, “Let’s see… Ham Seoju.”
“Yes.”
“Where’s Ham Wonsam? Is he inside?”
The man in the leather jacket had just called her father’s name. Ham Seoju, still sitting on the veranda, answered curtly.
“He’s not here. He went to work early this morning.”
Even so, the leather-jacketed man opened the room doors one by one as if to check for himself. When he opened the door to the very last room and saw the futon and hanging clothes, he asked, “Wasn’t this room empty?”
“It’s for tenants.”
“A tenant?”
“It’s been about two weeks. He’s a student who came looking for a boarding house.”
“Hah! Even for a boarding house, he picked a place like this. Housing shortages in Gyeongseong must be really bad these days…”
The man in the leather jacket scribbled something in his notebook. Then he added, “If you touch the tenant’s belongings, you know what happens, right? You’ll end up in jail just like your father.”
Ham Seoju didn’t answer.
“…”
“I’ll be back soon, so behave yourselves.”
After saying that, the man in the leather jacket strode out through the gate. Ham Seoju remained seated on the veranda, staring at the gate he had left wide open for a long time.
Detectives occasionally came to her house like this. She hated it. It was because her father, Ham Wonsam—who now pulled a rickshaw—had a criminal record. That was why detectives still came by from time to time to keep watch. And their attitude toward her was the same. Since she was the child of a “criminal,” they assumed she must have sticky fingers too.
Ham Seoju hated accepting that. So if the parents are sinners, the children have to be sinners too? She hated that idea. I didn’t do anything wrong…
After sitting still for a while, Ham Seoju stood up and closed the gate the detective had left open. Then she looked toward the room where the student tenant was staying. It was still open, just as the detective had left it.
Why would a tenant choose to stay in a place like this?
In truth, that was something Ham Seoju herself wondered about. The student who had suddenly appeared about two weeks ago was two years older than her. He had said he was enrolling in the Hunter Academy and had come up to Gyeongseong looking for a boarding house. At first she had thought he was Japanese because of his name, but although the name was Japanese-style, he was actually Chosunese.
Ham Seoju had been curious what kind of person this tenant was, but the student who had moved in always came home late with a gloomy face, drank heavily, and then made her run errands for more alcohol late into the night. Once, when she had cautiously asked, “Why do you drink so much?” he had answered that he didn’t even get drunk from that little bit.
Even while drowning himself in alcohol, the student never talked about himself. Still, Ham Seoju had managed to learn a little about his background from the gossip of the neighborhood people. They whispered that his parents were pro-Japanese collaborators, that he was the son of someone who had sold out the country for a title, and so on.
But Ham Seoju didn’t care about such talk. In fact, she felt a strong aversion to it. So what if his parents are pro-Japanese traitors? Having been pointed at and criticized herself because of her father, she couldn’t agree with that kind of gossip. No matter what kind of people the student’s parents were, what did that have to do with him?
That was why Ham Seoju guessed that the student’s heart—always drunk and depressed every day—was probably the same as her own.
But something strange had happened starting the day before yesterday. The student, right before the entrance ceremony—in other words, from the day before yesterday—had changed completely overnight. He stopped drinking entirely and began carrying himself with confidence and brightness. It was as if he had overcome the judgmental eyes of others.
How did he manage to overcome being pointed at and criticized?
Oh, right. He asked me to empty the trash can.
Ham Seoju, who had been standing there absentmindedly, suddenly remembered. She went into the student’s room, picked up the wastebasket, and dumped it in a corner of the yard. She planned to burn the paper and collect the empty bottles to sell later. But among the soju bottles, she noticed one small brown bottle. The label on it read 「青酸カリ」.
Ham Seoju could read it.
Potassium cyanide…?