Sincere at Heart
The inside of a small storage shed near the shrine’s worship hall. A single shaft of sunlight pierced the dim space through a crack, illuminating the dust that floated thick in the air. There, the female student with the reddish-brown ponytail—Hong Okrye—sat unconscious, tied to a chair.
I looked at her and thought, Hong Okrye, huh…
I’d been genuinely startled earlier. I wasn’t an expert in martial arts, but even I could tell the distinctive, flowing footwork she’d displayed was Taekkyon. Those elusive, rippling steps that made it impossible to predict where she’d leap next.
…This is going to be troublesome.
I had never learned hand-to-hand combat in the twenty-first century, so beating her in a bare-knuckle fight was out of the question. Using a blade, on the other hand, made it difficult to subdue someone with such agile movements without injuring her.
Still, it’s not like I don’t have options.
Major Aoki’s sword—an artifact that granted swiftness when it tasted blood. I made a small cut on the tip of my thumb, let a few drops fall onto the blade, and received the gift of enhanced speed. Of course, I didn’t actually swing the sword.
Gripping the hilt, I moved. “……!”
She reacted with surprise, but she couldn’t retract her high kick in time. In an instant I closed the distance, yanked off her gas mask, and—
Slap!
“Kyaaak…!”
The moment my right hand, still wearing Major Aoki’s glove, connected, the girl’s eyes rolled back and she collapsed to the floor.
Effect confirmed.
I had seen Major Aoki use these gloves to knock Shimazu Renka unconscious, but this was my first time trying them myself. What incredibly useful gear. No need for complicated swordplay or martial arts—just one solid hit and the opponent was down. Non-lethally, too.
After subduing the girl, I carried her into this shed near the shrine’s worship hall to avoid prying eyes. Once inside, I pulled up her status window again, the analysis now complete through physical contact.
Hmm…
Her awakened ability was physical enhancement, but judging from those Taekkyon movements earlier, she wasn’t a pure strength build like Murasaki. She was probably specialized in agility. She also possessed lightning emission, yet she hadn’t used it at all during our fight. She must have deliberately stuck to Taekkyon to hide her identity.
Right. Why hide her identity? Why carry a Taegeuk flag, wear a gas mask, and try to terrorize the school shrine?
I approached the girl I had tied securely to the chair with several loops of rope from the shed—necessary precautions given her physical enhancement and lightning abilities. I patted her cheek a couple of times to wake her.
“Hey. Wake up.”
“Ugh…”
Once her eyes opened and she realized where she was—and how she was bound—she glared at me.
“You! You son of a traitor…!”
Insults aside, I pulled out the Taegeuk flag handkerchief and held it in front of her.
“This yours?”
The moment she saw the handkerchief in my hand, she sneered.
“Hmph…! So you had it after all! It was a mistake for it to end up with you. That doesn’t belong to you. It was supposed to go to Lee Yuha.”
“What? This was meant for Yuha?”
The sudden mention of Lee Yuha’s name caught me off guard. But thinking back on this girl’s reddish-brown ponytail, a memory surfaced.
She was one of the Korean girls who recently approached Yuha.
During the squad tactics training the other day, she had come up to Yuha—who used ice emission—and asked for advice on operating lightning emission. Of course, now that I knew she had been trying to pass her the Taegeuk flag, it was obvious that approach had just been an excuse to get close.
While I was recalling all this, Hong Okrye stared straight at me with murderous eyes.
“Someone like you wouldn’t understand. Unlike you, Lee Yuha shares our ideals. She is the perfect person to stand with us.”
I asked again. Setting aside the insults about me being a traitor’s son, why had she tried to approach Yuha?
“What kind of person is Yuha, exactly?”
“Ha! …You’ve been hovering around her all this time and you don’t even know? She is the tenth-generation descendant of Admiral Yi Sun-sin’s line and the granddaughter of Minister Lee Min-am, who once served as a military official in the old Joseon army…”
I had never asked about her family background because it felt awkward to pry when she herself hadn’t brought it up. Now I finally understood. I had assumed she was just the daughter of some outdated rural yangban family, but if she was from Admiral Yi’s direct lineage…
Good grief. She’s a direct descendant of General Yi Sun-sin?
That explained everything. So this was why Hong Okrye had tried to recruit her. Among the students, Lee Yuha was already beginning to stand out. She was gradually becoming an idol and object of admiration for the Korean girls at school. And on top of that, she was a descendant of Yi Sun-sin. From the perspective of someone trying to spark an independence movement within the academy, was there anyone more worth recruiting?
But…
I shook my head inwardly.
Yuha can’t get involved.
Her presence was essential to my life at this school.
I need to ride the Yuha bus.
We were still first-years, so most classes were theoretical and practical training was relatively light. But I had heard that in the second and third years, dropouts were common—some even died or became disabled during training. Graduating from this academy was surprisingly brutal.
If I stayed in the same squad as the exceptionally talented Lee Yuha, even someone with Baek Chulyeon’s mediocre abilities could earn good scores. Besides, setting aside my personal academic motives, I didn’t want Yuha walking the path of the independence movement.
Of course, if Hong Okrye asked her to join their cause, Yuha would gladly accept. But the clumsy, naïve girl who was still struggling just to adapt to city life and modern schooling—if she were dragged into something so dangerous, treated like a disposable pawn… I couldn’t allow that.
I wasn’t trying to disparage the independence movement. Even if it hadn’t directly influenced Korea’s liberation, the accumulated sacrifices of those activists had ultimately shown the world that Joseon desired independence. Still, I had no intention of participating myself, nor did I want the people around me to do so.
This was already 1939. Japan was at war with China and facing international pressure from the United States. If history continued flowing in its predetermined direction, Japan’s defeat was all but certain. The stage where my personal intervention could meaningfully affect Korean independence had already passed.
Yuha, this Hong Okrye girl, and I were all just seventeen. We were still green kids. With liberation only a few years away, there was no reason to let them throw themselves into such perilous activities.
I sighed and said, “Give it up.”
“…What?”
“The independence movement isn’t something children like you should be doing. You’ll only end up throwing away your bright future.”
“You—!”
“Anyway, Joseon will—”
But she clearly had no interest in listening. “Ptoo!” She spat right at me. The saliva hit me square in the face.
“A traitor’s spawn dares to spout such nonsense with that filthy mouth! Just kill me already!”
Goddamn it…
She had crossed the line. I’d been trying to show concern, and she spat in my face? My temper flared and I raised my hand to strike her—then stopped mid-motion.
Wait a second.
If anyone saw this scene, it would look exactly like a cliché: a Japanese collaborator interrogating a bound independence fighter and getting spat on. And in that picture, I was the collaborator.
A wave of self-loathing washed over me.
Fuck… How did I end up like this?
But it made sense. My public image was that of the son of pro-Japanese noble Baek Nopyeong, who had even adopted a Japanese surname. On top of that, I hung around with hardcore collaborators like Yang Bok-ja and kept pestering Lee Yuha to speak Japanese. To Hong Okrye, I must have looked like the perfect villainous Japanese lackey.
If I wanted to make her give up, that image was a problem.
First, I need to clear up the misunderstanding that I’m a collaborator.
That part was easy. Despite appearances, I was a Korean with fairly strong patriotic feelings. Clearing up the misconception, as I had done with Yuha, shouldn’t be too difficult.
But unlike when I had cleared things up with Yuha, there was an additional problem now.
At the same time, I need to keep my distance from the independence movement.
That was the issue. If I explained that I wasn’t a collaborator and that I loved Joseon, this girl wouldn’t just give up—she’d probably try to recruit me too. A patriot with money? She wouldn’t let that opportunity slip.
So in this situation…
I organized my thoughts for a moment, then asked her directly.
“Do you know Teacher Kim Gu?”
“What…! Don’t you dare speak Teacher Baekbeom’s name so casually! A pro-Japanese scum like you has no right to utter it!”
Good, she knows who he is.
I took a breath and spoke firmly to the defiant girl.
“Listen carefully. I am currently carrying out secret operations under his special orders…!”
“What?”
Yes. The best way to avoid becoming enemies with Hong Okrye while also staying clear of the independence movement—and to make her give up—was to claim that I was already in the same line of work, performing a secret mission, and that they should refrain from reckless actions. And to borrow the authority of the big name “Kim Gu” while doing it.
What a devilish idea…
Naturally, Hong Okrye didn’t believe me right away. She glared and shot back.
“Lies! You’ve never even met Teacher Baekbeom!”
“Actually, I have.”
I answered calmly. “When I saw him, he was over 180 centimeters tall, wearing those round Kim Gu glasses on his face…”
“What kind of glasses?”
“Ahem! Round glasses, yes. And that imposing figure dressed in a white durumagi… he looked truly majestic.”
I spoke as if I had met him in person, but of course I hadn’t. The description I gave was simply the widely known image of Kim Gu from photographs that everyone in the future would recognize.
Yet Hong Okrye couldn’t hide her astonishment.
“H-how do you know that…? It’s exactly what the seniors described…”
It seemed she had never actually seen him herself. That made sense. The Provisional Government had moved its base multiple times in China to evade Japanese surveillance, keeping as low a profile as possible. Not many independence activists operating in Joseon would have met Kim Gu in person, and they had avoided being photographed to escape pursuit.
I added casually, “I wonder if he’s in Guangzhou—no, Liuzhou right now? He’ll be moving to Chongqing soon.”
“H-how do you even know that…? Do you really know Teacher Baekbeom?”
Seeing her begin to waver, I drove the point home.
“…I want our country to become the most beautiful nation in the world.”
“What?”
Hong Okrye lifted her head and stared at me. I gazed into the distance and continued.
“Not the richest. Because I have suffered from another nation’s invasion, I do not wish for my own country to invade others.”
“W-wait, that’s…”
“Our wealth need only be enough for comfortable living, and our strength need only be enough to defend against invasion.”
“T-that’s what Teacher Baekbeom often wrote in his letters… How could you possibly know that!”
Of course I know.
I had read it in Baekbeom Ilji since elementary school, and those words had been rediscovered and circulated everywhere in the twenty-first century when the Korean Wave took off. Passages repeated so often in online communities that one could memorize them by heart—always accompanied by that fluttering Taegeuk flag photograph.
In front of the stunned Hong Okrye, I delivered the final line.
“The only thing I desire without limit is the power of a lofty culture. For the power of culture brings happiness to ourselves, and furthermore, to others.”
“……!”
Hong Okrye simply stared at me with a dazed expression, speechless for a long while. Deciding that was enough, I told her,
“Now do you understand? I received a special mission from Teacher Kim Gu and am carrying out secret duties at this school together with Lee Yuha. So I’m sorry, but neither I nor Yuha can lend our strength to your cause.”
“I… I had no idea…”
“Exactly. Therefore, do not engage in any activities at this school. The same goes for outside it. Otherwise, the secret mission Teacher Kim Gu entrusted to me and Yuha could be ruined.”
She no longer tried to argue or resist. She seemed completely convinced.
Then, in a completely different tone, she said, “…Understood, Comrade Baek…” and suddenly began addressing me as “comrade” while speaking in that stiff, archaic formal speech.
I waved my hand dismissively.
“Don’t call me comrade, it’s cringey. And drop the formal speech. One Yuha is already more than enough.”
“U-um, okay.”
Good. With this, I shouldn’t have any more trouble with this girl. If she thought I was carrying out a secret mission directly from Kim Gu, what grounds would she have to order me around?
Of course, the only evidence that I was on a secret mission for Kim Gu was my own tongue, but there was also no evidence to the contrary. As long as she didn’t ask Kim Gu directly, my lie wouldn’t be exposed. At least not until liberation, when Kim Gu returned to Joseon.
Though by then I’ll already be in America.
While strolling through the school grounds, Shimazu Renka turned at the sound of someone calling her and was slightly surprised to see an unexpected person.
There stood a Korean female student with silver hair tied in a long daenggi braid that shimmered like water—Lee Yuha.
“Miss Lee.”
Renka gave a small nod in greeting. But something felt strange. While they weren’t complete strangers, Lee Yuha had never initiated a conversation with her before. In fact, Renka herself had never spoken to her either. The only connection between them was Baek Chulyeon—a friend-of-a-friend sort of relationship.
Even so, Renka offered a slight smile and asked, “Is there something you need from me, Miss Lee?”
“I thought you might know, so I came to ask…”
Yuha trailed off, hesitating. Watching her, Renka thought, Her Korean has improved.
Although they had never spoken directly, Renka knew from Osue’s reports and indirect observations that Yuha’s Japanese was clumsy. The fact that it now sounded so natural was surely because she was always with Baek Chulyeon.
……
For a moment, Renka’s thoughts turned to the boy who wasn’t present.
Why is this happening?
Thanks to Baek Chulyeon, Renka had been freed from her engagement to Major Aoki. Yet ever since that incident, she had found it strangely difficult to face him. And dealing with Lee Yuha, who was always by his side, felt equally awkward.
Of course, these feelings have nothing to do with romantic affection.
Renka had neither the time nor the experience to concern herself with such matters between men and women. The reason Baek Chulyeon occupied her thoughts was likely simple respect for the strong.
So there’s no need to worry about it.
Having organized her thoughts, Renka quietly waited for Yuha to continue. But the question that followed was completely unexpected.
“Might you know where Baek Chulyeon is right now?… Or rather, you would know him as Shirabayashi-san…”
Renka was momentarily taken aback. Why ask me?
Yuha was in the same class and squad as him and was practically always by his side at school. Yet there was a reason Yuha had come to her.
After hearing the scream and running with Baek Chulyeon to the otherworldly botanical garden, Yuha had suddenly realized he was gone. At first she thought she had simply lost him in the crowd, but that wasn’t it. He had vanished without a word.
One might assume he had simply gone home since classes were over, but for him to disappear so abruptly without even saying goodbye to her—the person who had been right beside him—felt suspicious. At least, that was how the Baek Chulyeon she had come to know behaved. He only disappeared like that when something was happening.
She suspected it was connected to the otherworldly biology professor collapsing here. Once again, something was going on, and Baek Chulyeon was involved. Yuha’s intuition told her so.
This time, I have to help him.
From the very first morning of the entrance ceremony, he had shown her kindness. Even after she had rudely labeled him a collaborator and treated him with contempt, he had taken her side and offered to become her friend. When she had been suffering at the hands of the fake Professor Saigane—Choi Seonggil—he had worried for her as if it were his own pain and had even risked his life to protect her.
In the end, she had been the one to receive help. Despite being misunderstood by so many, his heart was upright. He was the one who guided her whenever she made mistakes.
A friend I can rely on when we’re together.
To Yuha, that person was Baek Chulyeon. Before she knew it, he had become an indispensable presence in her life at this academy.
Therefore, if he was in trouble, it was only right that she help him too. But how was she supposed to find someone who had vanished without a trace?
The person who came to mind was none other than this Japanese noblewoman, Shimazu Renka. Having seen how comfortably Baek Chulyeon interacted with her, Yuha wondered if Renka might know why he had disappeared.
She continued, “The otherworldly biology professor lost consciousness, and Baek Chulyeon—no, Shirabayashi-san—vanished. It seems something is happening. Since I know you are also close to Shirabayashi-san, I came to ask.”
At the seriousness in Yuha’s eyes, Renka—who had been puzzled until now—finally sensed that something was truly amiss. She frowned slightly and said,
“Shirabayashi-san… has disappeared?”