As True as a Dream – Chapter 133

Author: Dakku-san

“I can’t forgive this… How can something so unfair happen? So unjust…! What did we do wrong? What in the world did we do to deserve this…?!”

Hae-Joo’s entire body shook as another wave of overwhelming emotion twisted her face.

Yi Ho, seeing her sway as if she might collapse at any moment, bent down and gripped her shoulders.

“Yeon Hae-Joo.”

“…Again… Again, the people I love are dead. Again, I’m the only one left…”

Clutching the man’s arm for support, she choked back a sob.

“My mother… my adoptive father… Eun-Sil… even Eun-Sil’s whole family…! Why… Why…? I can’t forgive this… I can’t! I can’t hold back anymore… I won’t forgive them…!”

Yi Ho gently wiped the tears from her cheeks, looking down at her with pity before nodding.

“Good. Don’t forgive anything. Man Insa—I’ll deal with him. So, stop crying now.”

“No.”

Hae-Joo shook her head.

“It’s not just Man Insa. There’s more than just him who doesn’t deserve forgiveness.”

She recalled the words of the woman who had died at Man Insa’s hands the night before.

“The Governor-General plans to kill all Koreans in Gyeongseong…!”

This massacre was undoubtedly the work of Man Insa, whom Governor-General Saito had nurtured—so the Governor-General himself was complicit.

Hae-Joo clenched her fists until they ached, her gaze fixed on Eun-Sil’s empty house.

A long silence passed.

Night had fallen, and Hae-Joo’s body, unmoving for hours, began to tremble faintly—whether from exhaustion or grief.

“…Let’s go home.”

Unable to watch any longer, Yi Ho spoke up. After a long pause, Hae-Joo nodded.

Without a word, Yi Ho bent down, draped one of her arms over his shoulders, and pulled her close. Then, with Eun-Sil’s house behind them, he turned away.

Hae-Joo, who had been still, buried her face in his shoulder.

It seemed even after crying all day, the tears still came.

The weight of her sobs made Yi Ho’s heart heavy.

Just yesterday, he had promised never to disappoint her again—to make her happy, to keep her from suffering.

He meant every word.

Gently, he pressed his lips to the top of her head.

‘I’ll keep my promise to you. So don’t suffer like this.’

He whispered it in his heart.

* * *

Governor-General Saito’s Residence

Saito’s sharp voice cut through the air as he interrogated his subordinate with cold authority.

[“So, who did that lieutenant say was responsible?”]

Earlier that day, the soldier—the sole survivor of the attack on Mao—had finally succumbed to his injuries.

The subordinate who had been guarding the scene rushed back to report the lieutenant’s dying words.

[“Lieutenant Iori said what he saw that day was a monster.”]

[“A monster?”]

[“Yes. And then, out of nowhere, he muttered something about ‘Song Yue Pavilion.’ We couldn’t determine the exact meaning—he passed away immediately after.”]

[“…Song Yue Pavilion?”]

After a brief silence, Saito pressed further.

[“Did the lieutenant say whether the monster was alone or if there were multiple?”]

[“He referred to it as ‘that monster,’ not ‘monsters,’ so we assume it was just one.”]

Saito’s expression hardened further at the subordinate’s words.

A single individual capable of slaughtering dozens of the Empire’s finest soldiers in an instant had appeared.

That day, over thirty Japanese soldiers had been killed in the garden—each wound a precise, fatal strike.

No wonder Lieutenant Iori had called the assailant a monster.

‘But Song Yue Pavilion? Why would that name come up?’

Just as Saito was lost in thought, the study door burst open violently.

A blood-soaked Kyung-In stormed in, the metallic stench of blood instantly filling the room. The subordinate’s face paled.

Saito frowned.

Though he had given Kyung-In free rein to hunt for Mao’s recovery, this level of visibility was excessive.

A glance outside the open door revealed servants prostrated on the floor, their faces ashen with terror, not daring to lift their heads.

[“Close the door and leave. And as for the recent killings…”]

Saito paused, then added coldly:

[“Have them attributed to a ‘plague.’”]

[“Understood, Your Excellency.”]

Once the subordinate left, Saito turned his attention to Kyung-In, who was still seething with barely contained fury.

Something felt off.

In the eight years since he had obtained Guishan Dao and allied with Man Insa, he had never seen this cunning serpent so agitated.

But he had no intention of asking why.

The only thing that mattered now was the completion of the Ten Thousand Bloodstone.

[“Last night’s hunt was… quite the spectacle, I hear. So, how many more are needed until the Bloodstone is complete— Wait, what happened to your arm?”]

Saito’s eyebrows rose.

Kyung-In’s left arm was strange—unlike his intact right, the skin visible beneath the torn sleeve was dark red, and the limb itself seemed shorter.

“It’s all because of that damn half-breed fox!”

[“Half-breed fox?”]

Kyung-In’s pupils slit into vertical lines as a hiss escaped his lips, his anger flaring anew.

“Yes! That half-breed did this to me! The bastard who planted Hae-Seol in Father’s daughter!”

At the mention of Hae-Seol, Saito’s gaze turned razor-sharp.

[“…The one who planted Hae-Seol?”]

He remembered the boils that had nearly killed Mao.

[“Who is this ‘half-breed fox’?”]

“A half-breed is a half-breed! Who else would it be?!”

As Kyung-In’s rage boiled over, Saito slammed his desk with enough force to shake the study.

BANG!

Silence fell.

Saito’s voice was icy when he spoke again.

[“Explain. What is this half-breed fox?”]

The authority of a general who had commanded thousands on the battlefield filled the room.

Kyung-In’s face twisted in displeasure at the pressure, but he had no intention of killing Saito—not when the man was still useful.

With a scoff, he dropped into a nearby chair.

“What’s there to explain? It’s just a half-breed fox!”

Kyung-In recalled the fox’s shadow sprawled at Yi Ho’s feet.

[“Is it human?”]

“I said it’s a half-breed!”

To Man Insa, a creature driven by instinct, nothing mattered beyond human blood. His answer was dismissive.

But Saito remained coldly composed.

[“You wear the skin of a Korean named Kyung-In. Kyung-In’s mother was Saeko, and I am Saito. What I’m asking is—what is this half-breed fox called?”]

Kyung-In scowled.

‘Why would he care about some half-breed’s name?’

Besides, that fox had been too busy shielding a human woman to—

“Boss…!”

The memory of the woman—his prey—shouting at the fox flashed in his mind.

“…Boss?”

Kyung-In muttered in confusion. Saito’s eyebrow arched.

“Yeah, that’s what the woman called it. ‘Boss’ isn’t a name, though, is it?”

While Kyung-In grumbled to himself, Saito turned to his desk.

There was a dossier he hadn’t yet opened—one delivered that morning.

Before his inspection tour, he had ordered an investigation.

Into the owner of Song Yue Pavilion—Ban Yi Ho.