As True as a Dream Chapter 162

The frozen tension between Hae-Joo, Young-ji, So-hwa, Min-byeong, the boy who led them, and the disguised independence fighters dissolved into unified action—despite no words being exchanged.

 

Hae-Joo was furious, her blood boiling at the sight of innocent civilians being beaten unjustly. But getting caught here would render everything meaningless.

 

Unable to even retrieve their fallen comrades, they had to scatter and hide in the chaos, swallowed by the pandemonium.

 

Hae-Joo was no different.

 

She had made a promise to Yi-Ho.

 

She couldn’t let anything happen to herself—not yet. Her mission wasn’t over.

 

The screams of people being struck down made her see red, but there was nothing she could do now.

 

Four military trucks rolled in—undoubtedly the forces sent by Governor Saito to clean up the retreat.

 

Gritting her teeth, Hae-Joo turned to leave when she spotted Young-ji.

 

Standing beside her younger brother’s body, Young-ji clutched a cylindrical object the length of her palm—a bomb.

 

She was about to hurl it toward the entangled Japanese soldiers and civilians.

 

Without thinking, Hae-Joo lunged.

 

She had never run so fast, not even climbing mountains with Yi-Ho.

 

Throwing herself in front of Young-ji, she seized her slender arm in a vice-like grip and yanked her back.

 

“We have to run, Comrade Anh!”

 

“Let go! I’ll kill them all! Those fucking bastards! Animals! I’ll slaughter every last one of them!”

 

Young-ji snarled, her eyes murderous as she glared at Hae-Joo.

 

But Hae-Joo didn’t flinch. Instead, she lowered her voice, sharp and unyielding.

 

“So you’re just going to throw that? Are you blind? Look—those aren’t soldiers! They’re the same people who helped us put out the fire!”

 

Young-ji’s frenzied expression faltered.

 

“If you throw that bomb now, sure, you’ll kill Japanese soldiers. But you’ll kill everyone else too! Get a grip! We fight to protect this country—to protect those people!”

 

A flicker of reason returned to Young-ji’s wild eyes.

 

Seizing the moment, Hae-Joo snatched the bomb from her hand.

 

“Does this detonate on impact?”

 

“What?”

 

“I said, does it explode if you just throw it?!”

 

Young-ji nodded numbly.

 

Hae-Joo immediately turned, crouched low, and sprinted in an arc around the chaotic scene before hurling the bomb as far as she could.

 

The bomb traced a high arc before crashing down—BOOM!

 

The deafening blast froze the battlefield in stunned silence.

 

Using stacked lumber as cover, Hae-Joo scanned her surroundings.

 

Not far away, So-hwa and Min-byeong were watching her. Young-ji, clutching her ever-present bag, was already moving in another direction.

 

Hae-Joo tightened her grip on the remaining bomb.

 

Her hands trembled. Her shoulders were rigid.

 

She was terrified.

 

But there was no retreat.

 

Just then, a crow landed at her feet, tilting its head up at her.

 

Recognizing it, Hae-Joo bent down and held out the bomb.

 

“You understand me, don’t you?”

 

The crow cocked its head.

 

“Can you drop this somewhere farther away? We need time to escape. And those people—they need to be safe.”

 

The crow stretched out its talons, snatched the bomb, and took flight.

 

Almost instantly, another explosion rocked the ground—farther this time.

 

The Japanese troops scrambled toward the new blast.

 

Hae-Joo darted from behind the lumber, watching as the beaten civilians seized the distraction to flee in all directions.

 

“[You filthy Joseon dogs dare run?! Kill them all! Open fire!]”

 

Gunshots erupted like rain. Hae-Joo clenched her fists and ran, teeth gritted.

 

She didn’t look back.

 

“Help me! Aaah!”

 

Screams and gunfire filled the air. Half the civilians fell; the rest barely escaped.

 

Hae-Joo reached their vehicle, jumped in, and revved the engine.

 

She swerved off-road, skirting the lumberyard, searching for any surviving independence fighters.

 

Her hands were white-knuckled, her face slick with cold sweat, her heart pounding wildly.

 

But she refused to leave alone.

 

‘Just one… Please, just one…!’

 

Luckily, no Japanese soldiers were in sight. Soon, Min-byeong burst from the bushes, waving frantically. Young-ji was beside him.

 

Hae-Joo braked hard. Min-byeong yanked the door open and jumped in.

 

“Where’s Kim So-hwa? The boy who brought us here?”

 

Min-byeong shook his head grimly.

 

Hae-Joo bit her lip until it bled.

 

Gunfire grew closer.

 

She swerved onto a narrow backroad behind the lumberyard, accelerating.

 

The car rattled violently as bullets rained behind them.

 

The rear window shattered. Min-byeong and Young-ji ducked.

 

Hae-Joo floored the gas.

 

The gunfire faded—they were losing their pursuers in the twisting path.

 

Avoiding the main roads, she navigated back alleys she’d memorized during her days as a taxi driver.

 

‘Where’s safest? Where can we hide?’

 

After a long, silent drive, they reached a secluded hillside cemetery on Seoul’s outskirts.

 

Only after carving a path up the hill and finding cover did Hae-Joo stop the car.

 

She slumped over the wheel, face buried in her hands.

 

“…Damn it…!”

 

A pained groan made her turn.

 

Min-byeong was sweating, staring at his left arm.

 

Blood seeped through his sleeve.

 

“You’ve been shot?”

 

“Grazed me.”

 

He laughed bitterly, then stumbled out of the car.

 

“Gonna patch this up and take a piss. Fuck, I was so scared I nearly pissed myself.”

 

Whether it was bravado or his rough nature, he smirked before disappearing into the bushes.

 

Only Hae-Joo and Young-ji remained.

 

“…Thank you.”

 

Young-ji’s voice was hoarse. She clutched her bag like a lifeline.

 

“…I’m sorry about your brother.”

 

“His name was Yeong-su. Twelve years old. Smart. Spoke perfect English. There was a missionary friend… We were going to send him to America. Better than rotting here.”

 

Hae-Joo’s chest tightened at Young-ji’s hollow tone. She looked away.

 

“…Goddamn it… Why Yeong-su? I took all the risks—so why am I still alive, and he’s…! He was amazing. A kid with dreams, even in this hellhole… I wanted to make them come true… So why…? Why him…? Ugh…! Aah…! Aaaugh!”

 

Tears spilled from Hae-Joo’s eyes.

 

She wiped them quickly and stepped out of the car, giving Young-ji space to grieve.

 

‘Why?’

 

There was no why.

 

In this hell called Joseon, nothing needed a reason.

 

Caw—!

 

A crow’s cry echoed from the sky.

 

Hae-Joo looked up.

 

‘Was it the same one that helped with the bomb?’

 

The crow circled overhead before landing in the bushes. Moments later, a familiar teenage boy peeked out from behind a tree—one of the crows who could take human form.

 

But something was wrong.

 

Blood streaked his face, his clothes torn to rags.

 

He gestured urgently.

 

After a glance at Young-ji, still hunched in the car, Hae-Joo approached.

 

“Where’s Yi-Ho? Why didn’t anyone warn us about the school?”