As True as a Dream Chapter 154

Hae-Joo, who had turned into a crow chasing after Yongzhou, looked up at Yi-Ho.

“A real printing press…”

“From what I can see, the ghost newspaper won’t end with just this one issue.”

“…Thank goodness the boss has deep pockets.”

At Yi-Ho’s words, Hae-Joo laughed weakly and replied playfully.

Though she spoke lightly, she held this gratitude deep in her heart.

She would repay this man with everything she had—no matter what it took.

 

“But why Yongzhou? Why not the independence fighters? Surely they have connections to publish a ghost newspaper too.”

When Yi-Ho suddenly asked, Hae-Joo raised an eyebrow before answering.

“Because after the uprising succeeds, the fastest way to spread the evidence nationwide—and even abroad—is through newspapers.”

 

“Abroad?”

“I know blindly revealing everything might seem reckless. But back at the Bogyeong Daily, I saw Brother Yongzhou’s with a foreign correspondent. I’ll ask him to connect us so that journalists can write about this. Telling Brother Yongzhou was laying the groundwork.”

 

Hae-Joo paused, her expression darkening as she continued.

“Our country has no power. As much as I hate to admit it, it’s the truth. Even the independence fighters operate from abroad. Western influence is flooding in. If we can use foreign opinion to make Japan hesitate—if it means breaking free from their grip—we must use every tool we have.”

She gazed into the distance, murmuring as if to herself.

“We’re that desperate. It’s that painful.”

 

When the sun rises, night must eventually fall.

But in Joseon, every day is nothing but night.

Dark, cold, desolate, and hopeless.

Not even the moon shines.

Powerless, they mourn those lost and drown in guilt.

Hae-Joo’s chest tightened, her nose stinging.

 

Then Yi-Ho’s firm hand grasped hers.

She looked up at him.

“Everything will be alright.”

“…Yes.”

 

That single, solid word steadied her sinking heart.

She clenched his hand tightly.

As long as she held it, she wouldn’t be swallowed by the darkness or lose her way.

 

 

* * *

 

Hae-Joo stared tensely at the heavy gun in her hand.

After parting with Yongzhou, she and Yi-Ho had returned home to catch up on sleep.

When she woke, a crow had left a gun and bullets by her bedside.

“A Mauser. Model 1914. Common for self-defense, so it’s easy to find.”

Yi-Ho, already awake, checked the magazine.

“You got it fast.”

As if in response, a crow cawed outside.

Yi-Ho lifted the gun, smirking at her.

“Ready to try?”

“Yes.”

With a resolute nod, she stretched and grabbed the door handle.

“Where do we start?”

“By shooting.”

Yi-Ho grinned as he stood.

 

Once ready, Hae-Joo hesitated, gripping the gun tightly.

Gunfire wasn’t something they could ignore—the nearby village made this a poor training spot.

But before she could dwell on it, Yi-Ho swept her up, forcing her to brace against the wind whipping at her brows.

The only quick way to a suitable training ground was riding Yi-Ho, the fox.

She should’ve been used to it by now, but she wasn’t.

All she felt was the blade-like wind howling past her ears.

 

“Open your eyes.”

At Yi-Ho’s voice, she did—and gasped.

They stood atop a high mountain, far from Seoul or the quiet village.

Only endless ridges and blue sky stretched before them.

“No worries about noise here.”

 

Nodding, Hae-Joo unpacked the gun.

The cold weight felt foreign, but she had no choice.

As she adjusted her grip, she suddenly asked:

“Why a gun?”

“Hm?”

“You mentioned bows, daggers, even throwing rocks. But you chose a gun. There must be a reason.”

Some independence fighters used guns, but others wielded bows, blades, or even swords.

Why this?

 

“First, you’ve got sharp eyes. You replicate movements well—your body just can’t keep up. And shooting takes focus and discipline, which you have.”

As he spoke, Yi-Ho took the gun and pointed out its parts.

“This is the lever. Safety off to shoot. The magazine holds eight rounds. Load, aim, fire.”

“Simpler than I thought.”

“For now, we’ll stick to the basics. Later, you’ll learn maintenance.”

“Of course.”

She laughed dryly, then straightened.

 

“Recoil’s strong. Use both hands.”

Following his instructions, she aimed at a tree five meters away.

“Back straight. Aim steady. Arms firm. Hold your breath—”

Then—his hand covered hers, guiding her finger to the trigger.

 

*BANG!*

The deafening shot made her flinch.

Thankfully, Yi-Ho’s grip kept the bullet on target—a branch snapped and fell.

“Wow…”

“Feel it?”

She nodded, awed by the raw power in her hands.

Now she understood why spirits hid from guns.

 

“Again. Aim for branches.”

Yi-Ho marked a target.

She inhaled, steadied herself, and fired.

 

*BANG!*

*BANG!*

*BANG!*

 

Round after round, she lost track of time.

What began in the afternoon lasted until dusk.

 

*BANG—!*

Another branch fell.

“Told you I’ve got an eye for talent.”

Yi-Ho smirked as she stepped back, panting.

“You’re better at shooting than hand-to-hand.”

“Really?”

“Not a prodigy, but plenty of potential.”

Coming from him, it was high praise. She beamed.

 

“Let’s head back. You’re starving.”

“Just a little longer—”

“If your arms give out tomorrow, what good’s the gun?”

“Oh.”

Outmaneuvered, she finally nodded.