As True as a Dream Chapter 152

The next morning, at 5 AM.

 

The day before, Yongzhou had quietly slipped out of Gyeongseong before curfew and arrived at Ban Yi Ho’s village. After spending the night there, he climbed the northern hill ahead of the scheduled meeting time.

 

At the top of the hill, in front of the guardian tree, he saw two tall and slender shadows standing beneath it.

 

“Hae-Joo?”

 

Yongzhou called out nervously toward the figures shrouded in darkness.

 

The two shadows stepped toward him, and soon their faces became visible in the dim morning light.

 

“Brother.”

 

He had expected it, but Yi Ho was with her.

 

Seeing Hae-Joo’s faint smile and Yi Ho beside her, Yongzhou swallowed a bitter ache in his chest and nodded.

 

“You’re safe. Are you alright?”

 

At his loaded question, Hae-Joo glanced at Yi Ho and grinned. There was no trace of the anxiety one might expect from a fugitive.

 

Of course, Yongzhou didn’t believe the colonial government’s claim about an epidemic either. But one thing was certain—they were desperately hunting for Ban Yi Ho.

 

Given the current state of the country, clashing with the Governor-General’s Office would only lead to one obvious outcome. And it wouldn’t bode well for Hae-Joo either, being with Yi Ho.

 

He had considered quietly advising her to part ways with Yi Ho when they met—not just because of his own feelings for her, but because she was a cherished childhood friend.

 

But seeing the two of them now, he realized any such words would be pointless.

 

“I sent you the letter because I needed your help, Brother. You’ve seen the wanted posters for the boss, right?”

 

Snapped out of his daze by Hae-Joo’s calm yet firm voice, Yongzhou replied,

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Do you believe what the Governor-General’s Office has announced?”

 

Yongzhou let out a dry laugh.

 

“Only the Japanese or their collaborators would believe that.”

 

Hae-Joo nodded at his answer.

 

“That’s exactly what I wanted to say. Brother, you were dispatched from Gongju to Gyeongseong because of those bloodless murders, right?”

 

Yongzhou pushed his glasses up in surprise. He couldn’t guess why she was bringing up the case.

 

“But it’s not just that. What if I told you that the recent fires in the shantytowns, and even the so-called ‘epidemic’ incidents before that—what if all of it is connected to Governor-General Saito? Would you believe me?”

 

For a moment, Yongzhou’s mind went blank as he stared at Hae-Joo, who spoke so composedly about something so enormous. It sounded like a joke.

 

But there wasn’t a hint of jest in her expression. His heart began to pound, a cold dread creeping up his spine.

 

“What… are you saying? Is this just your speculation, or is it… true?”

 

Feeling his palms grow damp with sweat, Yongzhou asked with a stiff face. Hae-Joo exchanged another glance with Yi Ho before continuing in an even graver tone.

 

“I’m going to tell you something now. Whether you believe it or not is entirely up to you.”

 

What followed was Hae-Joo’s account—starting with the bloodless murders in Gyeongseong months ago, the incidents disguised as an epidemic, the accidents in the provinces, and finally, the recent disasters in the shantytowns.

 

“Why… why would Governor-General Saito do such things? The role of the Governor-General’s Office is to control and suppress Joseon, forcing it to submit to Japan. But to treat our people’s lives like they’re worthless…!”

 

“Because Governor-General Saito is the one who actually believes in superstitions.”

 

“What?”

 

Yongzhou struggled to suppress his rising fury in the face of such a horrifying truth.

 

“It’s well-known that the Governor-General dotes on his only daughter. But right now, her life is in critical condition. Of course, he wants to save her—enough to do anything.”

 

“Superstitions…? So you’re saying he’s sacrificing people as some kind of offering to save his daughter?”

 

“Something like that.”

 

Hae-Joo answered, and Yi Ho, who had been silent until now, continued.

 

“The Japanese criticize Joseon people as superstitious savages, but they’re no different. When Saito was in Japan, it was an open secret that he frequently consulted a famous sorcerer among the elite.”

 

“And how do you know that, Boss Ban?”

 

“I have my own sources.”

 

While Yongzhou didn’t doubt Hae-Joo’s words for a second, he immediately questioned Yi Ho. He still found the man thoroughly unlikeable.

 

“So you’re saying Governor-General Saito was told by a sorcerer that he could save his daughter, and that’s why he’s… creating this situation?”

 

“Yes. And when I found out, he turned Song Yue Pavilion into ruins.”

 

Yi Ho stuck to the story he and Hae-Joo had prepared—part truth, part fabrication. Revealing everything, like the existence of Guishan Dao or Man Insa, would only make him sound insane.

 

Even the independence activists wouldn’t have believed him without the letter from the woman known as Sae.

 

Of course, whether their leadership truly believed in the supernatural was beyond Yi Ho and Hae-Joo’s knowledge—they had only met with Kim.

 

Either way, Yi Ho had no interest in wasting time arguing over the inexplicable.

 

“But what about before? Saito Mao only fell critically ill weeks ago. Yet according to Hae-Joo, the Governor-General has been targeting Joseon people long before—”

 

“If you look into superstitions, you’ll realize human sacrifices aren’t just for saving lives. They can be used for many things.”

 

Yi Ho answered dismissively, his discomfort plain. Hae-Joo gently tugged his sleeve before turning back to Yongzhou.

 

“Like I said, believing in me is up to you. But everything I’ve told you is true. Just look at Song Yue Pavilion. Even the Governor-General’s Office wouldn’t touch a high-class restaurant like that without justification. But what did they do?”

 

“They just… bombed it out of nowhere.”

 

“Why would Governor-General Saito do that? Did he suddenly lose his mind?”

 

Hae-Joo’s voice trembled slightly.

 

Yongzhou had also visited Song Yue Pavilion the day after the bombing with other reporters to assess the damage. The ruins looked like a warzone.

 

Though the Governor-General’s Office later claimed it was the epicenter of the epidemic and had to be destroyed, no journalist bought that excuse.

 

“Kill first, explain later.”

 

Japan had justified its invasion of Joseon with all sorts of pretexts. But the bombing of Song Yue Pavilion was unprecedented in its brutality.

 

“They silenced Boss Ban because he knew what Saito was doing in Gyeongseong. And in the process, countless innocent people died.”

 

Yongzhou studied Hae-Joo’s resolute expression before sighing deeply. His mind was in chaos from everything he’d just heard.

 

It was unbelievable—yet it had to be true. Only then did everything, past and present, make sense.

 

After a long silence, Yongzhou reluctantly conceded.

 

“Fine. Let’s say it’s true. What do you need my help for, Hae-Joo?”

 

“I want to publish a newspaper. But I don’t know the first thing about it. I need your help.”

 

Yongzhou was stunned.

 

“A newspaper?”

 

Hae-Joo nodded firmly.

 

“We’ll expose Governor-General Saito’s atrocities in print and distribute it.”

 

Yongzhou gaped before asking gravely,

 

“Hae-Joo, do you realize what that means? It’s outright resistance against the Governor-General’s Office—against Japan.”

 

“Exactly. I refuse to live like a coward anymore. I can’t take it.”

 

“You…”

 

“Please help me, Brother.”

 

A thousand thoughts raced through Yongzhou’s mind.

 

Why had he and his father lived in Gongju, keeping their heads down all these years?

 

Because when his father was young, he had been arrested for aiding independence activists out of patriotism. He was barely released, then demoted.

 

Yongzhou had been eight at the time.

 

He still remembered how broken his father had looked after being released by the Governor-General’s Office—nearly crippled, his right eye almost blinded.

 

He had feared Japan’s cruelty, and it filled him with rage.

 

This was Joseon.