As True as a Dream Chapter 148

As if reading the fervor in Teacher Kim’s gaze, Yi-Ho suddenly twisted one corner of his mouth and spoke nonchalantly:

“For your mental well-being, it’s better you don’t know what I am. Whatever you imagine, the truth would surpass it.”

 

“I—”

“Isn’t this enough?”

 

Teacher Kim tried to interject, but Yi-Ho’s glance flickered toward Hae-Joo standing nearby before continuing:

“I’ve chosen my side—yours. Isn’t that sufficient?”

His detached yet penetrating stare seemed to pierce through Teacher Kim. Despite his fifty-odd years of life, the old man’s pulse quickened under the instinctive dread radiating from Yi-Ho.

 

The memory surfaced—Japanese soldiers collapsing unconscious at Yi-Ho’s feet in the blink of an eye.

‘Right. This being, whether human or not, had made his choice. And it was our side’.

 

Teacher Kim forcibly folded away decades of suspicion and nodded.

“I’ll handle the greatest threat you’ll face—that monster, Man Insa.”

 

Hae-Joo, who’d been quietly inferring their history, jerked her head up at Yi-Ho.

Frankly, she hated the idea of him—still feverish—facing Man Insa alone.

‘What if he falters for just a moment?’

The thought was unbearable.

 

Noticing her expression, Yi-Ho leaned down slightly.

“Man Insa killed Hongo. Wouldn’t stopping me be crueler?”

She pursed her lips, then reluctantly nodded. Though Yi-Ho showed little outward emotion, Hongo’s loss undoubtedly weighed heavily on him.

 

“Good. We’ve stood too long. Let’s continue elsewhere.”

Teacher Kim led them into the thatched hut after observing their hushed exchange.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The lamplight inside was dim. The elderly man from before was nowhere to be seen.

Unlike last time, no water was offered—they cut straight to the point.

 

“Assassinating Governor-General Saito can’t be rushed,” Teacher Kim began.

Hae-Joo, the de facto leader in this matter, immediately shook her head.

“No. It must be done urgently.”

 

At her insistence, Teacher Kim raised an eyebrow.

“If we wait, every Korean in Gyeongseong will die by Man Insa’s hands—egged on by Saito. You’ve heard about the fire in the shantytown these past few days?”

 

“That was no accident. Not a single survivor. The bodies were charred, but… it was Man Insa’s work.”

“You’re certain?” Teacher Kim pressed.

 

Hae-Joo glanced at Yi-Ho, who nodded.

“Absolutely.”

The crows had brought confirmation—they’d tailed the killers, risking their lives.

 

“We’ll lure Saito out. Every day we delay means more victims,” Hae-Joo added, voice tightening. “Our people’s bloodline… might dry up entirely.”

 

“Why…” Teacher Kim exhaled heavily. “Why is Saito doing this?”

 

As Hae-Joo hesitated, Yi-Ho intercepted:

“His daughter Mao is on death’s doorstep. He’s convinced that letting Man Insa drink its fill of blood will ‘save’ her through some ritual.”

 

Hae-Joo barely suppressed her wide-eyed reaction at the absurd claim.

“Such superstition—”

“Humans are that kind of animal,” Yi-Ho countered. “A parent will burn the world for their child.”

 

Teacher Kim rubbed his forehead, sighing.

“I have a plan,” Hae-Joo interjected, seizing the lull. That morning, the crows’ intel had sparked an idea. She was no strategist—feasibility was Teacher Kim’s domain.

 

“A plan?” His eyes darted to Yi-Ho before he nodded. “Speak.”

 

“Our sources say Saito will move his daughter from the Governor-General’s Hospital to their residence in five days. Her condition hasn’t improved. That’s our window.”

 

Teacher Kim’s eyebrow arched—this was intel even his network lacked. How did this young woman, barely out of her teens, have such connections? Then he noticed Yi-Ho and understood.

 

“All security will focus on Mao—including Saito’s. It’s when he’s most vulnerable.”

 

Teacher Kim nodded slowly, then sighed.

“The elder mentioned wanting to join the operation.”

“Yes, but we don’t send untrained personnel. We fight for our nation, but not through pointless sacrifice.”

 

Hae-Joo blinked, lowering her eyes with a wry smile.

‘Without Yi-Ho, I’d just be dead weight.’

The realization stung. She’d prided herself on being quick-handed, sharp-eyed, and a skilled driver—yet none of that mattered now.

 

Just as she resigned herself, Yi-Ho spoke:

“Not as a frontline asset. But she can scout. Knows every alley in Gyeongseong.”

 

Hae-Joo’s shoulders straightened.

‘Right—her taxi days meant the city’s map lived in her mind.’

“If things go wrong, I can guide retreats. Save lives.”

 

Their gazes locked—her determined brightness against his steely resolve.

Finally, Teacher Kim massaged his temples.

“I’ll… consider it.”

 

Hae-Joo smiled. Yi-Ho hid his own smirk.

‘Had she insisted on the frontlines, he’d have refused outright. But this? Manageable.’

 

“Your intel is valuable. Mao’s transfer might indeed be our chance.”

“Time isn’t on our side,” Hae-Joo agreed.

 

As Teacher Kim rose to leave, Hae-Joo lingered outside with Yi-Ho.

“Earlier… Why frame it like that? About Saito’s motive?”

 

Yi-Ho’s lips curled.

“What do you think the Ten-Thousand Bloodstone’s true value is?”

“It’s a panacea, but—” She froze, realizing his implication.

“This sudden escalation… the massacres… they’re feeding the Bloodstone to Saito Mao?”

 

She bit her lip. It made horrific sense.

Since Mao’s collapse, the killings had accelerated exponentially. No more pretense—just madness. Saito’s epidemic excuses, his demolition of Song Yue Pavilion…

 

“That bastard…!”

Yi-Ho chuckled darkly.

“The Bloodstone blinds people. Think—it can cure any illness. Even cheat death itself.”