Chapter 5
Chapter 5
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: Three Lives (4)
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“Dad, I can walk just fine.”
Son Gwang-yeon had laid a blanket over a carrying frame and hoisted Jin-hyuk onto it. Mom walked alongside, steadying Jin-hyuk’s back as if he might tumble off at any moment. It was clear how much his parents cherished and loved their child. As the family of three headed toward the sea, General stuck close behind.
Getting them to the sea together had worked, at least.
But the only method Jin-hyuk could think of was shouting loud enough for Mom and Dad to hear. With his strong voice, maybe if he bellowed at the top of his lungs, they’d catch it and come out.
“Jin-hyuk, why’d you bring that?”
Mom asked, eyeing the tin can Jin-hyuk clutched like it was the most precious thing in the world.
It was the fire tin Dad had made for Lunar New Year’s. A paint can punctured with nails, wired with a long handle for easy spinning—a perfect rat-fire toy.
“To light a fire if it gets cold. And to spin if I get bored.”
Mom’s face lit up with pride as she ruffled his hair.
A nine-year-old acting so grown-up.
‘If I spin it really fast, it’ll work as a signal.’
No signaling device was as unique or eye-catching.
He’d packed plenty of pine cones and needles to light up, too.
Jin-hyuk’s heart pounded like a drum.
Maybe he should’ve begged them not to go after all.
‘Would that have been better?’
He got that he’d been sent back to age nine to save the three of them. But biologically, he was too young, and the era was pre-digital revolution. Even with gadgets, options were slim anyway.
Somehow, he had to save his parents. Fail, and next year he’d be dragged off by Mom’s half-sister from a different mother, stuck living in the attic. Dad’s hard-earned wealth would vanish without a trace.
‘I won’t let it repeat.’
The three arrived at the seaside after trudging down the dark path.
Mom and Dad followed the neighborhood uncles into the mudflats, and Jin-hyuk didn’t forget to drill it in.
“I’m gonna do rat-fire, so you have to watch for it and come out!”
“Yeah, with our boy here, no worries about getting lost.”
Even Mom’s smile, glowing like moonlight in the dark, couldn’t ease Jin-hyuk’s mind.
General, who’d trailed them all the way, sat obediently by Jin-hyuk’s side.
Quite some time passed.
While his parents battled in the mudflats, Jin-hyuk fought off waves of sleep. His soul was an adult, but his body was a child’s—staying awake late wasn’t easy. The gentle sea breeze didn’t help; his eyes drooped without warning. He shook off the god of sleep clinging to his eyelids, barely hanging on.
“Whoa there—Yeong-kyung, you caught a ton, eh?”
As the tide rolled in, the uncles started emerging one by one.
The squelching of mud-caked boots jolted Jin-hyuk awake. The briny mudflat scent cleared his head, reminding him of the most important thing.
‘Mom and Dad?’
They still hadn’t come out.
A sudden chill wind carried an ominous whiff.
“Jin-hyuk’s here too, huh?”
“Yup, his dad brought him. Didn’t wanna leave the kid alone at home.”
“But why ain’t they comin’ out?”
“Dunno? Tide’s comin’ in quick.”
The uncles murmured.
Jin-hyuk cursed himself for not lighting it sooner and fumbled for a match.
Whoosh— The gust snuffed it out.
That’s when it happened.
“Jin-hyuk-ahhh!”
It wasn’t calling for him.
The uncles were shouting for Jin-hyuk’s parents.
His heart sank.
‘Their voices are way louder than mine.’
Even in his previous life, they’d called like that, yet they hadn’t emerged. And that wasn’t the only problem.
Jin-hyuk-ahhh.
Jin-hyuk-ahhh.
Echoes. Low hills ringed the shallow sea, making it impossible to pinpoint the source. As the uncles bellowed “Jin-hyuk!” competitively and headed seaward, Jin-hyuk’s face fell.
‘What do I do?’
Had he ever felt this desperate?
Though nine now, he’d lived past forty before. This was his life’s most urgent moment. Not even college entrance exams or job interviews compared.
‘That light must be Mom and Dad.’
Far out in the mudflats, a light flickered on and off.
Whoosh— Another match died. The intensifying salty sea wind twisted his gut. Salty water was surging in.
“Over there—in the channel!”
“Jin-hyuk-ahhh!”
Channel. Mudflats were soft overall, but some spots were firm enough to tread. Deeper troughs snaked like paths, where water rushed in first and drained last. Even at low tide, water trickled through—folks washed boots or hands there. Seaside folks called them channels.
‘Doesn’t matter—they won’t hear anyway!’
Channels were sunken, blocking external light and sound. Plus, water rushed through with babbling noise, drowning out distant calls.
“Flashlights on, quick! Hurry!”
Everyone flicked on their lights, waving toward Jin-hyuk’s parents, but no dice. Crude human beams were puny against the deep gloom.
And.
‘There’s more than one or two of those lights.’
Lights dotted the far side and incoming sea too. The winding West Sea coast had a knack for trapping and devouring mudflat folk.
“Let’s go call ’em ourselves!”
“Right, right. This could turn bad.”
Even the uncles vanished from sight.
Oval lights bobbed and faded over the black mudflats.
‘Even after all that, they couldn’t save them?’
Jin-hyuk panicked. He had to save them. With past-life experience, he wouldn’t repeat being dragged to his stepfamily. But Mom and Dad were too young to die now.
‘Just light the fire, and it’s solved!’
He clutched the tin like he’d burn his hair if needed. Struck another match.
Fwoosh! No oil needed—the pine needles curled, pine cones blazing red.
No time to marvel; he leaped up and spun the tin furiously.
“Mooom! Daaaad!”
Woof-woof! General joined in.
Jin-hyuk poured his desperation into the spin.
Whirr-whirr-whirr! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
The hole-riddled tin spewed fire and a ferocious roar.
The sound of life.
How unreliable the human eye can be.
The next day, Jo Il-heon clinked makgeolli glasses with neighbors over seafood snacks, celebrating surviving the busy farming season.
“But what the heck was that light show?”
“Beats me. Who knows?”
“Quit yappin’ and drink!”
Misjudged it?
Jo Il-heon stretched both arms, demanding attention.
“Lemme tell ya again—listen up!”
They’d had to save the young couple. The friendly guy from Seoul who mingled freely, and the pretty woman from another village. Trouble for them meant leaving that little boy alone.
Jo Il-heon and Park Dae-soon had ventured into the mudflats searching.
“Water! Tide’s comin’!”
“Gotta get out!”
“What about Jin-hyuk’s folks!”
“Argh, this is nuts!”
Jo Il-heon missed the golden circle at his back.
But two men recognized it as Jin-hyuk’s rat-fire. Like a solar eclipse’s ring at a glance.
“Oppa! There, right there!”
“Whoa! They’re saved. Hurry, our boy’s arm must hurt.”
As Jin-hyuk’s parents escaped the channel safely, Jo Il-heon turned for shore too. Reaching land behind the light, it was gone—replaced by a moon floating serenely overhead. The new moon from old tales. That sparked the uproar.
“—That’s what happened!”
“Hyung-nim, ease up on the booze. You’ll eat curses spoutin’ nonsense.”
Jo Il-heon finished confidently, but even Park Dae-soon, who’d been at the sea and close pals, didn’t buy it.
“Damn it...”
Jo Il-heon was a boozehound. Naturally, he’d downed a full pitcher before heading out. That’s why no one who stayed home believed them.
“Argh, damn it—why won’t anyone believe me?”
“I’d believe Kim Il-sung first! Kahahaha!”
“Nah, it was just Jin-hyuk’s fire lookin’ like that. Night eyes play tricks—see ghosts even.”
“That so...?”
He backed off. Push more, and he’d be the fool. They’d boozed up against the cold night work, memories fuzzy in the dark anyway.
Humans cling stubbornly, though.
Drunk Jo Il-heon latched onto Son Gwang-yeon.
“Jin-hyuk’s dad! You saw it too, right?”
“Haha! I was beat, stared at the ground, hyung-nim. Jin-hyuk’s mom didn’t say nothin’ special.”
The new moon offered no witnesses. Jo Il-heon’s boozy tall tale closed the case.
‘Ugh, I musta seen wrong. Damn—maybe quit drinkin’?’
He vowed sobriety, chugging makgeolli nonstop.
Darkness and light, ignorance and fancy, a dramatic end—typical mishap turned legend through word-of-mouth.
Though bruised inside, Jo Il-heon had a fun grandson tale now, secretly pleased. Kids would clap at the happy ending.
Forty-five-year-old bachelor Jo Il-heon consoled himself that way.
After school, Jin-hyuk spotted his parents in the yard and swelled with emotion.
‘I changed fate.’
His parents were alive and well.
His vision blurred. How to express this joy? Back in time, tears came easy—but these were happy ones.
He slipped inside, dodging General’s low growl.
“Jin-hyuk-ah, dinner time.”
“Comin’!”
Clink-clink.
Chomp-chomp.
“So good.”
“Haha, eat up, son.”
Boiled octopus in chojang, soybean stew with flower crabs—delicious. Past life, food was just fuel; even pricey stuff tasted meh.
“Mom, more rice?”
Jin-hyuk stood with his bowl.
“Gimme, I’ll get it.”
“I can do it.”
The kid who’d barely empty half a bowl now.
Scrape.
Kitchen pot lid clanged open.
Mom’s face beamed as he wolfed down two bowls.
“Gonna sleep in the side room from tonight.”
“Why? You love sleepin’ with Mom.”
“TV’s too loud for homework.”
Odd. They rarely watched TV. He loved news with Dad, pillow on Mom’s arm.
Mom tilted her head.
“Hee-hee.”
The Seoul country bumpkin grinned like a good-hearted fool.
Han Yu-young blushed watching Son Gwang-yeon.
*
Rural home with two rooms.
Dad’s college books filled Jin-hyuk’s: classics, English originals, major texts, English and Japanese papers. Everything. In the countryside, middle school meant average; high school, educated.
‘Dad went to college.’
Kids cared only for snacks and play; natural he hadn’t known. ‘Korea University Business Administration’—Dad’s diploma.
‘Alma mater buddies?’
Digesting dinner, he read Japanese news, murmured English papers, cracked major books. A nine-year-old fluent would shock more than impress. Better read quietly.
Then he closed it.
‘Sigh, all stuff I know. Soundproofing sucks, though.’
Separate rooms for young parents’ sake. Mud walls offered no full privacy.
Hee-heeek.
Dad tickled Mom’s side.
Jin-hyuk swallowed dryly, recalled Lee Hae-won’s antics days ago. Then Choi Mi-kyeong across the fields, Kim Eun-jeong by the village hall. Village girls aplenty; class of thirty had twenty-three.
But that was it—interest didn’t grow. Kids, after all.
“Ugh, sleep time.”
Sleep to grow.
Hee-heeek.
Mom’s laugh pierced the wall again.
‘Good times...’
Luckily, kid body crashed fast. Jin-hyuk wished time flew till he grew.
Blanket over head, he passed out quick.
Moonless night, shadows swayed serene beyond the paper window.