Prologue
Just before I hit the water after jumping off the Han River Bridge, the last thing I remembered was that idiotic conversation I'd had with my friend at the bar.
"...Do you know what the hanja for Jurchen is?"
"No clue. Why the sudden question?"
"It's the character for 'woman' from 'bitch,' plus the 'jin' from 'true.' Break it down, and Jurchens are 'true women'—meaning their tribe's full of nothing but S-rank beauties from the capital."
"You're wasted. You've chugged a bottle and a half of soju by yourself."
"I'm not drunk, so listen. The Jurchens advanced eighty kilometers a day. Even on horseback, that doesn't make sense. Right? How does a person cover eighty klicks in a single day? What do they call that long march thing in the army?"
"March."
"Yeah, that's it. Can you march eighty kilometers in a day? And not even all cavalry—yet their whole army moved that fast. Jurchens aren't human."
"So what you're getting at is Jurchens aren't actually people? What, like they're centaurs from some fantasy tale?"
"No, no, you dumbass. Think about it. Jurchens are as fast as horses and full of capital S-rank beauties? That means the whole tribe's horse girls."
"So you're saying the Manchus getting Sinicized was horse girls turning human? Mixing blood with Chinese diluted the horse girl genes until they vanished?"
"Exactly."
"Bullshit, you crazy bitch... Then in ancient Japanese myths, all those animals turning human and marrying people means every Japanese has beast ears on their head?"
"Whoa... That's why I like you."
"Whoa, my ass. And can I ask why you're slyly brushing my hand every time you grab the snacks?"
"When did I ever touch your hand? And why the fuck would I touch a Hannam's hand? But fuck, can't I touch your hand if I want to? Maybe I like touching your hand. You fucking... This world's so goddamn unfair. Does your hand wear out if I touch it a little? Huh? Hey. In a world where Hannams aren't even getting Hannyeos, why the fuck are you bitching? Shouldn't you be grateful to me? Yeah? Right?!"
"No matter how I look at it, you're fucking wasted..."
A sharp crack to the back of my head, like someone had smashed it hard, followed by an explosion like a bomb going off. In the freezing darkness where I couldn't see a thing, my vision slowly blurred. And in the end, just one thought crossed my mind.
If there's a next life, living in a fucked-up world like that idiot described wouldn't be so bad...