Lushun Prison
Compared with Beijing Airport, Dalian’s Zhoushuizi Airport seemed downright modest. Three hours after takeoff, the cabin announcement came that they were beginning their descent.
They had just finished immigration and were heading out when a familiar face appeared near the interrogation room way off to one side.
“Dr. Ailey?”
“Oh, Beopsa?”
Ailey lifted her head. She looked a little worn out.
“Is something wrong?”
“Yes. But it’s been resolved now.”
“Excuse me?”
“They got hung up on my precision genetic testing equipment and wouldn’t let me through. I called you because of it, but your phone was off.”
“It must have been while I was on the plane.”
“Anyway, they kept picking a fight, and then some phone call came through from somewhere, and all of a sudden they backed off and finished the inspection in a hurry.”
“Ah. Zhao Huning.”
Kim Ki-wook clapped his hands once.
“Zhao Huning?”
“We stopped in Beijing and met the person who approved this excavation. He said he’d call over here and let them know the local party secretary might try to make trouble.”
“Ah...”
“In any case, what a relief.”
“It is.”
The power of authority was frightening. China especially so. Aware of that once again, Kang-to left the airport.
“You two go ahead to the hotel you booked. I need to see Lushun Prison first.”
That was Kang-to’s thought. He hadn’t come here to sightsee. And he wasn’t especially tired either.
“Then I’ll accompany you, and we can send the doctor to the hotel first? She must be tired from the inspection...”
Kim Ki-wook quickly took control of the situation.
“Lushun Prison Museum.”
Once he gave the destination, the taxi started moving. Kang-to recalled the material Secretary Park had sent about Lushun Prison. The dossier had been thorough; that was because Kang-to’s journey truly began here.
The prison was immense, and its history was complicated. It had not been built by Japan, nor by China, but by Russia.
As Russia advanced into the Liaodong Peninsula, it built the prison to hold Chinese prisoners. Then, after losing the Russo-Japanese War, ownership changed hands.
Japan expanded the facility to hold more than two thousand prisoners and built, in addition to torture chambers and execution rooms, even a brick factory.
The inmates were mostly Koreans. When the Pacific War broke out, they indiscriminately arrested and imprisoned, then tortured, Korean and Chinese activists against Japan as well as political prisoners. In the space of roughly a year, some seven hundred people were executed here—an agonizing place of deep sorrow.
Mr. Ahn had been imprisoned here in 1909. Not only that, but teachers Shin Chae-ho and Lee Hoe-young were also held here and eventually died in prison.
“For Koreans, and for the Chinese who suffered here too, this could hardly be anything but a place of lingering resentment.”
In front of the three-story prison building, Kim Ki-wook first bowed his head in silence. Kang-to, too, met the fragrance of the nation’s righteous dead with a solemn heart.
[]
The words Ahn’s righteous spirit had left behind in prison flashed past.
A great man may die, but his heart is like iron; a righteous man, even when faced with danger, carries himself like the clouds.
Ahn’s ironclad conviction pierced straight into Kang-to’s heart.
<.]
Another saying followed after it. On this field of history, his blood must have been like that indeed. The cold wind of Harbin, yes, but his blood must have burned hotter than lava as he thought of his country and pulled the trigger.
Bang.
With the faint echo of a gunshot, Ahn’s resolve swept through Kang-to’s body.
[After I die, bury my bones beside Harbin Park, and when we have recovered our country, move them back to the homeland. Even in heaven, I will continue to labor for our nation’s independence. If the cry of Korea’s independence reaches heaven, I will rise again, dance, and shout hurrah.]
Long live Korean independence.
He could hear the shout of hurrah rising from heaven.
And yet... the independent Republic of Korea had never been able to fulfill his wish. That thought hurt Kang-to from the very start.
He quietly laid aside all the solemnity and determination. This sublime task was not something that could be solved by solemnity or resolve alone. More than resolve, it would take the destiny of heaven and spirit, and the bone-grinding labor to make that destiny real.
With that pure and sacred mission in his arms, Kang-to took his first step.
Then he stopped at once.
“Beopsa?”
Startled, Kim Ki-wook supported him.
“I’m all right.”
He soothed the man and faced the phenomenon before him.
Woo-woo-woo.
Spirits. Countless spirits shimmered in the air. There were so many he couldn’t even find a place to rest his eyes. The front row was made up of those in the most pitiful shape. Their hands and feet had been cut off by brutal torture, and parts of their bodies were missing.
The forms of spirits sometimes revealed the cause of death. For example, a spirit who had lost one leg in a traffic accident would appear with only one leg, because its thoughts had stopped at that moment.
-Give me back my leg.
-Where did my arm go?
Back in the old days, when elders laid their grandchildren down across their knees and told ghost stories, tales like that were common for a reason.
Kang-to greeted them with a bow of full-hearted reverence.
As Kang-to moved, the spirits drifted back. It was because of the aura of the Supreme Heavenly God residing in him, and they did not dare approach him.
“There it is.”
After rounding the exhibit hall, Kim Ki-wook pointed ahead. It was a wooden exhibition room. Right in the center stood a photograph of Ahn.
“......”
He bowed his head again. He was standing before a national hero to whom a hundred bows would still not be enough.
“This is my fourth time here. At first, while I was ambassador to China, I intended to somehow recover his remains and take them home. But each time, I ran headlong into the wall that is China and found myself defeated. Now I’m standing here for the fourth time. Like that famous boxer who went through four losses and five fights, I hope this time we succeed.”
Kim Ki-wook’s determination was no less extraordinary.
A South Korean diplomat.
Public trust in them was not exactly high. When incidents or accidents happened overseas, there were many cases where they responded late or simply looked the other way. Each such case piled up, and the result was a nail driven deep into the public’s distrust.
But not every diplomat was like that.
Kim Ki-wook was one of the exceptions. Meeting someone like him was a stroke of luck for Kang-to.
“How does Beopsa Kang-to feel?”
“Feel...”
He didn’t answer.
With Ahn’s portrait before him, he could summon the spirit. Because it had been so long ago, if that proved difficult, he could at least kindle a faint soul-flame.
He didn’t try it immediately. This was not the kind of thing to begin by testing. Ahn, asleep in a conviction brighter than the stars and in his devoted love for his country, deserved better than to have his spirit called up in front of his portrait just because Kang-to felt like trying.
Spirit summoning is for exactly one time.
It would be enough to use it in actual practice.
For now, let him sleep.
He didn’t want to disturb that rest.
“Let’s go.”
Kang-to turned away. Staring at the portrait only made him feel more uplifted, more charged, as if his pulse were climbing higher and higher.
But this was not something Kang-to could do alone. The provincial authorities might well be tracking his and Minister Kim’s movements. They had tomorrow and the day after that officially allowed to them. He had no intention of handing over any unnecessary anxiety as an excuse for interference.
“Has everyone gathered?”
After dinner, Secretary Park came into Kang-to’s room. The members had already assembled before then. Kang-to, former Minister Kim, Ailey and Kwon Ha-eun, and two specialists in excavation of remains.
“I was startled by Dr. Ailey’s equipment issue, but I’m glad it’s been resolved.”
Secretary Park began in English. He was the sort of person who could start in English, then switch to Chinese or French as needed.
“Is the equipment all right?”
“Yes, no problem.”
“That’s a relief. In China, if they decide to make a problem, then it becomes a problem. Whatever it is.”
“......”
“Beopsa, you visited Lushun Prison already, yes?”
The secretary’s language returned to Korean.
“Yes.”
“We sent you the materials in advance, but there are four possible burial sites for Mr. Ahn’s remains. Fortunately, they’re all concentrated here in the Lushun district: first, the Lushun Prison cemetery in Dongbanshan; second, the Wonbosan area next to it; third, the zone to the left where China once attempted an excavation; and finally, the Lushun Prison Museum you visited today.”
“......”
“We ran several simulations, and every single time the Lushun Prison cemetery came out as the number one candidate. The basis is the record in the execution report: after he was martyred at 10:15 a.m., they held a service in the prison chapel and buried him around 1 p.m. Other information that leaked out from the Japanese side matches this as well. Just before the execution, Japanese guards secretly dug the burial site.”
“......”
“For everyone else’s sake, I’ll explain briefly: the Lushun Prison cemetery, or the Dongshanpo area of Dongbanshan, is 659 square meters, with five trench-like sections stretching ninety meters, all packed full of bodies. The time China has granted us is two days, and the number of graves we may choose from is only one. Since excavation alone will take at least ten hours, you’ll have to identify the grave by tomorrow.”
“Understood.”
Kang-to replied.
“And, as everyone knows, this is strictly confidential and top-secret. Before Ahn’s remains are recovered, nothing must leak to YouTube or social media, and even after that, we must maintain the level of security the Chinese side requires to the very end.”
“......”
“Lastly, if the remains are found... Ahn’s descendants will be flying here. We’ve only given them a very rough heads-up, so I truly hope you achieve a great result.”
That was Secretary Park’s closing.
“Sol-bi, you should go to bed early, okay?”
The end of the day came with a phone call to his daughter.
“Daddy, Sol-bi got another hundred on her dictation.”
“Really?”
“Yep. I’m the only one who got a hundred. My big sisters and brothers got seventies and sixties.”
“Oh, our Sol-bi. At this rate, aren’t you going to become a genius?”
“The grown-ups say I’m smart because I take after Daddy.”
“Mm... Daddy’s a little moved right now.”
“Daddy.”
“Yes?”
“Is it night in China too?”
“Of course.”
“Hmm. I thought maybe night comes late there because it’s such a big country.”
“Come with Daddy next time.”
“But, Daddy...”
“Hmm?”
“My teacher says the Great Wall of China can be seen from outer space. But why can’t I see it from our house? I climbed up the lighthouse and still couldn’t see it. The lighthouse is closer than outer space, isn’t it?”
“......”
He suddenly missed AI. But Sol-bi’s curiosity and absurd little leaps of logic seemed like the sort of thing even AI couldn’t win against.
“We’ll build the lighthouse taller next time. Then you’ll be able to see it.”
“I see.”
“So tonight, go to sleep early, okay?”
“Okay. Daddy, you sleep well too.”
Listening to Sol-bi’s encouragement(?) made him forget the fatigue of the day.
After the call, he walked to the window. Since it was a high-rise hotel, he could see at a glance the Dongbanshan and Wonbosan areas where the Lushun Prison cemetery lay.
See you tomorrow.
He sent the promise into the night and got into bed. To do a job well, sleeping well came first.
“Shall we begin?”
In front of the Lushun Prison Museum, Secretary Park said that. The field team consisted of former Minister Kim, Producer Kwon, Ailey, and the two excavation specialists.
“Beopsa.”
When Ailey held out her hand, everyone else placed theirs on top of it.
Fighting.
Steeling themselves, they headed into the exhibition hall.
Two Chinese observers joined Kang-to’s party. They were there to keep watch. The group entered the hall with the museum curator, before any other visitors could come in.
Hoo.
Once again standing before the display, Kang-to finished his silent prayer and steadied his breathing.
You should be going back to the homeland now.
With a gongsu more resolute and solemn than ever before, he entered a state of spiritual resonance while looking at the place where Ahn’s living image had once been projected, the execution ropes, the bust, and the portraits.
“......?”
Kang-to lifted his gaze at the sudden emptiness that skimmed through his mind. He couldn’t see the spirit.
Huff.
Once more.
He raised the strength of the descent. Kang-to’s body reacted with a shock like lightning striking it.
But even then, the spirit did not answer the call. Not even a flicker of soul-flame stirred.
This?
The Supreme Heavenly God was silent?
That could happen. A body spirit did not always answer Kang-to one hundred percent of the time. Shamans who had received lower-ranked gods often experienced that sort of thing.
Fortunately, that wasn’t the case here. When he looked around, there were spirits everywhere else. Only Ahn’s, the one he needed, could not be seen.
What gathered in place of resonance was a chill of awe and a cold sweat.
It didn’t stop. It soaked through his whole body.