As True as a Dream Chapter 142

The briefly opened curtains of nearby houses snapped shut. Rows of Japanese soldiers stood at attention, artillery lined up beside them, rifles ready to shoot anyone who tried to escape.

 

And at their forefront stood a familiar face, now twisted with cruelty—Governor-General Saito.

 

Hae-Joo’s heart pounded violently. ‘Yi-Ho’s home is being destroyed.’ She glanced up at him, but his icy expression gave nothing away.

 

Then, a cold, amplified voice boomed from outside:

“[The source of the recent epidemic in Gyeongseong has been confirmed as Song Yue Pavilion. Anyone fleeing the premises is a carrier—for the safety of Japan’s subjects, shoot them on sight!]”

 

Governor Saito’s merciless words turned Hae-Joo’s blood to ice. The faces of the staff scrambling inside flashed with horror and despair.

 

Despite the warning, a few employees bolted for the gates—only to be gunned down in a hail of bullets. Their bodies jerked like marionettes before collapsing.

 

Hae-Joo clapped a hand over her mouth, stifling a scream. Others froze mid-step, too terrified to move.

 

“Run! Get out of here! Don’t just—ahh—!”

She lurched forward instinctively, but Yi-Ho yanked her back, his arm a steel band around her waist.

 

“Director—!”

 

As people scattered, the bombardment resumed.

 

“Is there… a back exit? Any path for them to escape?” Hae-Joo begged, watching the chaos.

 

Yi-Ho’s gaze swept over the crumbling pavilion before he pulled her into the garden.

“Follow me.”

 

Her eyes lit up. “Here! This way! If you want to live, come here!” she screamed.

 

Staff surged toward them—just as a shell struck the garden’s center. The explosion turned fleeing figures into lifeless heaps. Hae-Joo stared, numb.

 

Yi-Ho, face grim, hauled her away. Clutching her limp form, he vaulted onto a collapsed roof.

 

‘Why is this happening? They were innocent! How could I have saved them?’

 

Her teeth sank into her lip. Then her eyes caught the guesthouse—usually reserved for VIPs.

 

“The guests…?” she muttered.

 

Yi-Ho smirked darkly.

 

“Empty. Saito evacuated them beforehand. This was planned.”

 

No civilian bodies or belongings were visible—only butchered staff.

 

‘Saito Jiro…!’

 

Within minutes, Song Yue Pavilion was reduced to smoldering ruins. Yi-Ho carried Hae-Joo to a nearby street, where she whirled to look back.

 

Black smoke pillared into the sky. Twenty years of grandeur, erased in an instant.

 

Yi-Ho’s jaw tightened. ‘Where’s Hongo?’ The crow spirit would’ve prioritized survival over treasure… probably.

 

His eyes flicked to the pavilion’s heart—the vault holding his lifelong collection of relics. Gone.

 

Fury simmered beneath his calm. ‘All those rarities, wasted.’

 

Hae-Joo tugged his sleeve.

“Boss, we need to leave. Now. Are you okay?”

 

He swallowed his rage and nodded. No use dwelling on the lost.

 

As they climbed onto a rooftop, a small figure in the ruins locked eyes with him—Man Insa.

 

The realization struck: This attack was Saito’s doing. That night days ago, the snake spirit had recognized Yi-Ho’s true nature. “Half-breed fox,” he’d called him—and Saito had listened.

 

Now, Man Insa waved cheerfully, his severed arm already half-regrown. ‘How much blood did he drink?’

 

Yi-Ho’s fingers twitched with the urge to tear that grin off—but he turned away. He wasn’t alone anymore.

 

 

* * *

 

Dawn.

 

 

Gyeongseong erupted in shock. “Governor Saito has gone mad!”

 

The official story? Song Yue Pavilion was the epidemic’s source, and its destruction was a “public health measure.” Few bought it.

 

“Why target the pavilion?” Rumors swirled: Was it envy of its wealth? A personal grudge?

 

Mourning families dared not protest openly, fearing the Governor’s wrath.

 

“‘Eradicating the epidemic’?” Yi-Ho scoffed.

 

Disguised in men’s clothing, Hae-Joo relayed the news. They’d taken refuge at her home in Ikseon-dong, but both knew it was temporary.

Saito’s real targets were them.