No… Are You Serious?
‘…Total of five.’
The turtle group that Donatello belonged to numbered five in total, including the slap-happy Gaochong Raphael and the free-spirited Leonardo, who managed greetings and bowel movements simultaneously.
Now, only Michelangelo and Splinter remained.
—Whoa! So you’re saying this guy, who looks like a turtle from eyes, nose, to mouth, is actually human… That’s what you’re telling me right now?
—That’s what I heard. Anyway, Leonardo, pull yourself together and follow us. We need to find those two before it gets any later.
—Hehe. Travel’s always fun. So, who should we look for first?
—What a dumb thing to say. Obviously Michelangelo first. Splinter won’t be easy to find just because we want to.
—Hehe. Then let’s head out.
Raphael was… well…
Undoubtedly a turtle, but there was this oddly familiar vibe about him at times.
Like watching Bear Grylls groping along a riverbed, sniffing every now and then.
Honestly, at first, I couldn’t believe Raphael’s method of pawing at the stream bottom.
But the results of his relentless, expert search put drug-sniffing dogs to shame.
—Found ya, you rascal.
I wondered what the hell he was looking at when the muddy ground suddenly heaved.
—…Huh? Raphael? Leonardo’s here too? What brings you guys?
Something with beady eyes like peas and a piggy snout barely peeking out of the sand poked its head out sloooowly and crawled forth.
With search skills that located Leonardo and now Michelangelo in a flash, I had no choice but to trust Raphael’s abilities.
—Sob! It hasn’t even been a day since we split, but it got dark and I got scared already! We always swam and ate together, but being alone was too sad!
—Hm. For someone so ‘sad,’ you seem to have eaten pretty well.
—Huh? Oh!
The reason Michelangelo panicked so hard at Raphael’s words?
Probably because, contrary to his claims of writhing in lonely grief, half a centipede was dangling from his mouth like a trophy.
Slurp!
Caught off-guard by the sharp jab, he inhaled the rest like sucking up spaghetti strands.
Then he wiped his lips with his webbed front paw and stretched his neck out innocently, as if nothing had happened.
—Hm. Master Splinter always said it: even if we’re scattered, we must eat every meal properly! I was sad, but forcing it down to keep his word!
—Hm. Leonardo. Didn’t we stuff ourselves with food right before splitting just hours ago?
—Let it go. He’s just following the master’s orders to the letter. Gotta trust him, right?
—I-It’s true! When have you ever seen me lie? Huh?!
No one answered, just turning away pointedly—it was clear Michelangelo’s life was riddled with fibs.
—Tch. Fine. You wouldn’t believe me anyway. But who’s that? Never seen a turtle like him before.
Third time saying the same damn thing.
—Oh, this is Baek Min-hyeok. Not a turtle—human.
—Huh? Human?
—Yeah. Human vet, but right now he looks like…
By now, Raphael and Leonardo took over introducing me without me needing to explain.
—Ooh! He’s with Donatello? Everything okay?
—Yeah. Surgery’s done, and he’s resting up good.
Michelangelo clapped his webbed paws like a seal, his beady eyes sparkling.
—Great! So now we just need Master Splinter?
—Right. Let’s find Splinter quick before it’s too late, then head to our animal hospital.
It felt like it was nearing midnight by now.
I needed to snag Splinter fast and get back to keep tomorrow’s schedule intact.
And the turtles seemed to feel the same.
—Hehe. We’re counting on you, Raphael.
—Yeah, boss! Show us that tracking skill Master passed down!
Raphael clearly had the trust of the others, not just me.
—Hm. Tracking the master won’t be easy, but let’s go.
Raphael sniffed more aggressively than when finding Leonardo and Michelangelo, scouring every nook and cranny underwater for Splinter’s trail.
‘…No.’
Hours passed into the wee hours past midnight.
‘Why is this taking so damn long?’
Ten minutes for Leonardo.
Less than thirty including chit-chat for Michelangelo.
Yet even as car noises from the roadside grew sparse in the dead of night, no trace of Splinter anywhere along Cheonggyecheon Stream.
—Whew. That’s our master for ya. He might’ve hit the big water already.
—Hm. Possible for Master. He runs folding the sky itself.
—Master’s so cool! Oh, no… still wanna see him!
After over three hours combing the area, no sign of Splinter anywhere.
We climbed onto a flat, broad rock, feeling the dawn breeze, debating next moves.
‘Watching them talk, no real leads emerging?’
Raphael’s ‘big water’ meant the Han River, surely.
From Cheonggye Plaza—the stream’s start—to where it met the Han downstream was about twelve kilometers.
A turtle swimming at average five-to-eleven kph, or up to sixteen sprinting, could’ve reached the Han easily by now.
‘That’s for normal turtles. Raphael’s way faster than Leonardo or Michelangelo already—Splinter’s gotta be even quicker.’
I hadn’t met Splinter, but to the others, he was beyond top turtle—practically a god.
Whoever he was, his physique had to be exceptional.
—…For now, let’s head out first without him.
—Just us? What about Master?
—Leave without searching more?
—We gotta bring Master!
My one suggestion had them stretching necks like taffy, going berserk.
—Everyone, quiet and focus.
I raised my webbed right front paw to hush them.
—We’ve scoured Cheonggyecheon from start to end for hours, every corner. If no sign, like Raphael said, he might’ve gone to the Han—the big water.
—Then we go to big water too! Find Master!
I shook my head at Michelangelo’s wail.
—If he’s in the Han, impossible for us alone. Han’s forty-one-point-five kilometers long, average kilometer wide. Huge area.
Plus average depth three-to-five meters—if Splinter’s really there, no way with this manpower. Er, turtlepawer.
But straight-talking that would just make these loyalty-obsessed turtles dig in heels till death.
—Hmph. Never been to Han, but no matter how big, turtles who swore brotherhood same day same hour will always—
—I’m saying this because Splinter seems fine.
As Raphael launched into brotherhood oath mode, I cut him off.
—Too early to say for sure, but if Splinter swallowed lots of coins like Donatello, he couldn’t have gone far in short time.
—Huh? Makes sense? Master might be okay then?
—Yeah. Donatello couldn’t swim right from bellyache, barely moved. But Master was always full of energy.
Seeing Michelangelo and Leonardo nod their long necks, things were heading my way.
—So let’s go first, you guys. Hindsight, Donatello nearly had big trouble from slight delay. You need to be healthy for Splinter to worry less. He’s your master, right?
—Hm… True. Master’s healthier and greater than anyone.
—Yeah. Trust Master. Like the vet says, no pain signs till we split.
—Right. No needless worry. Let’s get healthy first. Show Master cool side! As loyal turtles he always stressed!
Glancing at each other, their eyes turned resolute as they nodded.
My sincere words, lightly MSG’d, worked. Time to prep departure.
—Good. Let’s go, just us. Everyone, out of the water.
—Huh? Outta water? How far to your hospital?
About ten kilometers from Cheonggyecheon to Hanmaum Animal Hospital.
But Raphael’s arched brows weren’t about distance—worry over land exposure.
Semi-aquatic turtles like them sleep in water, eat with it for digestion.
Land meals wreck digestion; they can’t stay out long—hence the concern.
—If it’s water worry, no need. Prepared ahead.
—What? How?
—Follow me. Better to see than hear.
I trudged out, water streaming off, ignoring their grumbles.
‘Here it is.’
I’d reached the bushy pathside where I’d transformed earlier.
And there: the black plastic bag and wet towel tub I’d left.
—What’s that?
—Not shoving us in that tiny thing, right?
—Hey, vet. Ten kay’s far—how we going? Taxi?
Huh. Stream-dwellers, but they knew km, taxis—pretty savvy.
Made this easier.
—Wait. I’ll explain slow. First, transform. Back to human.
After the warm light enveloped me and I reverted, the turtles’ eyes gleamed in awe.
—Ooooh!
—He really changed!
—So cool. Can’t you turn us human too?
“Wish I could, but the transformation magic isn’t mine. Even my change is just activating the spell Ssal-i cast on me.”
I bent, grabbed the bag and tub one-handed, pointed at Cheonggyecheon with the other.
“And now, we’re riding that.”
—O… oh?
—That one’s…?
—No… are you serious?
They all gawked at my pointed finger, necks stretching like taffy as they stared at me.