Chapter 68
Chapter 68
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 68
Chapter Title: Guardian's Great Fortune (3)
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"Dad, there's a grandfather in the neighborhood who lives alone."
Jin-hyuk arrived home and told his dad about Cheon Gil-ryong.
As he left Cheon Gil-ryong's house, he'd taken a discreet look around. The old man didn't seem to be struggling. Garlic and dried pollack hung from the eaves, and through the half-open barn door, he'd glimpsed some precious ingredients. Still, Jin-hyuk wanted to help in some way.
In this neighborhood with vast land but sparse population, even Son Gwang-yeon knew of Cheon Gil-ryong's existence.
"People like that have strong pride, so I'll ask the village head to see if there's anything we can help with. Supplementing what they need is the real way to help. Nghhh..."
Son Gwang-yeon lay on the living room floor, rubbing his back. It was a serious tone mismatched with his fidgety movements, but what could he do? It hurt like fire, and his hands couldn't reach.
Thinking his dad was doing yoga, Jin-hyuk was impressed.
Clean and decisive. No unnecessary fluff in his decisions. And Dad always kept his word. Now Jin-hyuk just had to keep his own promise. He'd have to catch more striped mullet this fall, he thought.
'To do that, I should buy a new reel rod.'
He was excited. He'd go for an expensive one. Bamboo rods stirred a man's analog soul, but sentimentality didn't catch fish. Just as Jin-hyuk was reveling in the thrill of an impending purchase, Hong Gi-jun burst his bubble.
"Why do you call me Dad, Jin-hyuk?"
This was the problem with adults. They asked anything that piqued their curiosity, no matter how trivial. Well, it was a noteworthy issue. Kids his age in the countryside called their fathers "Father" by upper elementary school.
Normally, he'd have brushed it off with "Just because," but now Hong Gi-jun was the man rolling Jin-hyuk's 40 million won. Time to be a bit nicer, he figured.
Money really was the best.
"I like calling you that."
A compensatory psychology for the days he'd longed to say it but couldn't.
He knew it couldn't be explained in words.
But then Hong Gi-jun asked something out of left field.
"What do you want to call me?"
Come to think of it, they hadn't settled on a specific term before.
What did people usually say in these situations? Hey? Mr. Hong? The neighborhood adults went with "Excuse me" or something.
'Boss would suit my taste.'
Jin-hyuk, whose social growth had stalled at nine years old. His body was a child's, but his mind was middle-aged, so he hadn't developed much since regressing. Calling friends' parents "Uncle" or "Auntie" had sufficed.
'He wants something different.'
Uncle? No, that was his 40 million won. Uncle? Not usually.
But Jin-hyuk knew Hong Gi-jun's type. He preferred subtle special treatment over overt flattery.
Jin-hyuk finally came up with an answer.
"Father-in-law..."
"Hahaha!"
It seemed correct.
Hong Gi-jun clapped in delight.
Even reborn, life was tough. And the saying that you never knew with people was true. Who'd have thought worldly Son Jin-hyuk would end up like this?
Yu Se-ra, watching from the kitchen, tossed aside the bean sprouts she was prepping and came running over. It was just like little Hong Su-jeong.
"Jin-hyuk! What about me? Me?"
What's with everyone?
The full moon neared, brightening the night.
In the early dawn, Jin-hyuk woke and sat on his bed, admiring the round moon illuminating the room. Its icy blue light pierced his retinas and optic nerves, aching his heart.
'Still pretty.'
Maybe because his relief had gone too far, overflowing with energy, he struggled to sleep early. The night before, he'd run more than usual, done pull-ups and jump rope double.
Part of it was Yu Se-ra, thrilled at being called "Mother," pushing makgeolli on him constantly, making it awkward to stay home. Hong Gi-jun and Yu Se-ra had cheered toasts nonstop, polishing off the makgeolli.
'Listen to some music?'
Click.
He pressed play on the cassette player on the nightstand by his desk. Hong Gi-jun had brought it, calling it Sein Electronics' latest high-end mini component. It had dual cassette slots and a built-in CD player.
Of course, auto-reverse meant no flipping tapes.
'Relaxing to music suits my fate.'
An Air Supply song flowed out.
The piano intro, like flying above clouds in a clear sky, made his heart flutter.
Sitting on the bed listening, his lips curved up naturally.
'The more I think, the more amazing.'
In his past life, his first media player was an MP3 after discharge. Here, even in the mud house, he'd lain on Mom's lap listening to the radio and cassettes.
A mini component, no less. First time for him.
'Should I fiddle with it?'
Sleepless, he was curious about toys.
He shook his head. Hong Gi-jun had gifted the latest Sein model with a 386 computer and programming books, fun but fidgety after sitting. Used to sedentary days, now active life had its downsides.
"But I don't know how to leave you-."
Singing softly along, he glanced out the window.
Jin-hyuk's eyes widened, chills running down his spine.
'What the hell is that!'
A shadow.
At a distance impossible for human eyes, Jin-hyuk glared fiercely at the dark figure.
No dog barked on this moonlit night in this uninhabited spot. The shadow moved without hesitation, no scanning around. It vanished back whence it came.
To Jin-hyuk, it looked prearranged.
Following with his eyes, he saw a dark forest where it disappeared.
One word flashed in his mind.
'Spy!'
At high tide during the full moon's sarira, the tidal flats turned deep sea. The army had outposts with TOD for night watch, but monitoring the winding West Sea coast with battalion forces was near impossible.
There was a story from before Jin-hyuk's birth.
In a distant village, the headman's head vanished overnight—a tale still famous locally.
The son of a serf under the landlord crossed north right after the 6.25 armistice. Unable to forget his father's humiliations, he returned on a high-performance boat at full tide, beheading the aged landlord with a sickle.
- "How'd they know it was him?"
- "How? Full moon, bright as day. The old man's son from the friendship club saw him. Kid vanished 20 years back, carrying a blood-dripping cloth bundle. Thought he was drunk, passed it off. Next morning, head gone—then it hit him."
Back in the mud house days, huddled with Mom trembling to Jo Il-heon's tale. No spies coming, yet scarier than ghosts to ordinary folk.
'Spies in our village? No way!'
One might say what era is this for spies, but "Surrender and Find Light" still towered like steles at the town square and entrances.
Plus, operating where family homes were visible was risky.
He changed quickly.
Couldn't report on vague info; needed at least a clue.
Click.
"Heek-!"
Yu-jin slept frog-style by the door; nearly kicked her. Thanks to her, he calmed his rash impulse, regaining composure.
Strange sister. Always there mornings or when he woke at dawn.
As always, he tucked her into bed and covered her.
Glided down stairs like a flying squirrel, silent.
To the entryway, shoes on, out to yard—in seconds.
Woof.
"Shh. Don't follow."
General rose happily, then sadly lay back on his paws.
Unavoidable. Helpful for tracking, but unknown dangers.
Rustle.
Focused weight on toes, minimizing noise and prints. Crouched low as in night infiltration training.
'Called it a dead drop?'
Taught in the army.
Where spies hid supplies or messaged others.
Inland deep, high tide made sea access perfect for rendezvous. Suspicious movement at night like trained—definitely a dead drop.
'If I die, evidence emerges.'
What was the bounty?
Reborn worldly heart raced oddly.
Slipped through shadowy furrows like wind. Felt watched, maybe was.
Reached where shadow lingered then fled.
A rock the size of a small jar.
Whoa—impressed. Perfect spot, even to him.
Where two fields and two paddies met, a small pond. Exactly five steps east from pond to field—this rock.
'Their rule for dead drops.'
Move rock, pit with rectangular tin. Breathing steady, thinking bounty and security.
'Su-jeong will be famous.'
Chance to be most famous middle schooler.
Grunt—rock shifted with vibration, heavy.
'Huh? Nothing?'
Two earthworms wriggled; three black bugs with pincer tails fled. Sunless pale roots clung to brown soil.
But Son Jin-hyuk didn't quit.
Tracked where shadow vanished.
Staying concealed, followed.
'Combat boots.'
Not sure if spies wore them, but ridge prints weren't shoes or sneakers.
Disappointment turned to rapid heartbeat.
Cautious, barely breathing, how far following prints?
'Ha—busted.'
Forest where shadow went—too many leaves.
No moonlight, no pressed traces.
Couldn't charge in blind. Stray bullet from unseen—trouble. Confident in fighting, but armed trained agent? No guarantees.
'They hit blindfolded by footprint sounds.'
No assurance spy inside.
Insects drowned hearing, but human would make noise, detectable. Forest silent. That silence shrank his courage.
'Judge realistically.'
Next time, then.
Pondering spy capture, returned through dark, ears perked at imagined stares.
Back cat-like; Yu-jin slept soundly. Mini component played Michael Bolton.
'Good night workout, that's all.'
Tsk.
Jin-hyuk lay awake long, glaring at dead drop.
Peeking through curtains.
'Ask Dad for binoculars.'
Night-vision ones pricey.
Thump-thump.
Excited over expensive scope with spy nearby.
Getting harder by the day.