As True as a Dream Chapter 170

‘Please, not this man…! I couldn’t lose Yi Ho too.’

If that happened, Hae-Joo wouldn’t be able to go on living either.

The only reason she had been able to endure until now was because Yi Ho had been by her side.

She had lost too much, could find no reason to keep living, and in a world where she staggered aimlessly and listlessly, he was her only solace.

Hae-Joo pinched her palm hard, trying to somehow pull herself together.

She leaned over, avoiding his wounds to check his heartbeat, and her face turned pale.

His movements were even more sluggish than before, and Hae-Joo’s heart felt like it was plummeting over a cliff.

A strong premonition washed over her: if she left him like this, things wouldn’t just “get better” as he said—she would be separated from him forever.

“We don’t necessarily need the Ten Thousand Bloodstone. We can find another way.”

‘Was there really such a thing as “another way”?’

Hae-Joo struggled to suppress a sob that threatened to burst out and shook her head.

When she and her mother had been on the run, her mother had also said she would be okay.

She’d said that if they could find a doctor in the next village, everything would be fine.

But her mother hadn’t made it to the next village.

It wasn’t any different with Madam Yang, the gisaeng house owner.

Her mother’s illness showed no sign of improvement, yet Madam Yang would soothe her, insisting they would surely find another way and that she should not worry.

But in the end, both her mother and Madam Yang had left forever, without a chance to find that ‘other way.’

Hae-Joo tightly gripped Yi Ho’s hand, then let it go and stood up.

She knew of one certain method; she couldn’t just sit here listlessly, lost in despair.

If she did, there might never be a ‘next’ time.

She had to get back to Saito’s residence somehow and search the spot where Governor-General Saito had fallen.

Hae-Joo took one last look at Yi Ho in the room, pressed her lips into a tight line, and left the house.

As she stepped into the courtyard, a raven in the form of a middle-aged man, who had been pacing, saw her.

“I have to go… I have to go find the Ten Thousand Bloodstone.”

It was summer, so the days were long, and dawn was already breaking early.

A massive military force had likely already set up camp near Governor-General Saito’s residence.

She needed the ravens’ help.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Early in the morning, Seoul was in an uproar.

The news spread that part of the Japanese Government-General building had been destroyed by a bomb the previous night, Governor-General Saito’s residence had been raided, and Saito himself had been assassinated.

Japanese soldiers filled the streets to apprehend the vile criminals who had dared to rebel against the Empire of Japan, and the atmosphere grew more ominous than ever before.

People kept their heads deeply bowed, not daring to look up.

They were afraid of accidentally catching the eye of the Japanese soldiers and being beaten to death or arrested as criminals.

So, no matter how curious they were, they didn’t dare crowd around the Governor-General’s residence to look.

Having suddenly lost their leader, the Japanese Government-General of Korea was on high alert, unable to determine who had thrown the bomb at their heads overnight or where the attackers who had targeted Saito had come from.

Because of this, Hae-Joo couldn’t find a way to infiltrate the residence for a while.

She first asked the ravens to fly into the garden and search for the Bloodstone, but she also intended to get inside herself if possible.

‘Wasn’t there any way?’ 

 

As Hae-Joo lingered near the residence, someone suddenly came tumbling out of a narrow alley between buildings and collided with her, knocking her to the ground.

“Ah…!”

The person who bumped into her didn’t say a word and ran off as if being chased by a ghost.

Hae-Joo turned her head to look in the direction the person had run.

They were dressed in rags, barefoot, emaciated to the point of being skin and bones, and gave off a foul smell.

Probably a beggar.

Hae-Joo brushed off her hands, stood up, and glanced into the alley the person had run out of. Her eyes widened.

Inside, an old rag and a pile of clothes were arranged like a cozy nest, but that wasn’t what surprised her.

It was the child lying unconscious on top of that very rag.

Hae-Joo hurriedly stepped forward and bent down.

She hadn’t been mistaken.

It was the raven who had been following her around yesterday, the one in the form of a young boy.

“Hey…? Hey! Open your eyes. Why are you here…!”

Hae-Joo gently shook the child, then soon noticed the bloodstain spreading on his side.

Startled, she lifted his clothes and saw blood oozing sluggishly from a wound on his left side—perhaps a gunshot.

Without a second thought, Hae-Joo moved to hoist the child onto her back but then hesitated.

She might unnecessarily attract the attention of the Japanese soldiers patrolling the streets and cause trouble.

Hae-Joo picked up a few dirty pieces of clothing from the ground and covered the child’s head and body.

‘Should she go to a hospital? But he’s a supernatural creature.’

‘What if he suddenly changes back into a raven?’

‘What about the ravens that went into the residence? If they found anything, they’d come back, right?’

 

Various thoughts flashed through Hae-Joo’s mind in an instant, and she immediately moved.

She had to save him first.

Without the help of these ravens, she might have already been dead yesterday.

Hae-Joo turned to leave but felt eyes on her and looked up.

A raven was perched on a wall, watching her intently.

Hae-Joo nodded as if to say, ‘Don’t worry,’ and then, putting on the calmest expression she could muster, carried the child on her back and chose a less crowded path.

The child’s eyes were closed, and he was wrapped in clothes so the blood wasn’t visible; to anyone else, it would just look like she was carrying a sick or sleeping child.

After walking for about twenty minutes,

Hae-Joo entered through the courtyard gate she had left early that morning.

Only after stepping into the safety of the compound did a look of urgency return to Hae-Joo’s face.

As she opened the door and entered, the gazes of the ravens sitting throughout the house also turned toward the child.

The ravens who could still take human form didn’t seem to have returned yet.

Hae-Joo glanced briefly into the room where Yi Ho was lying, then carried the child into the room next to it.

She propped the child against a wall, took a quilt folded on top of the bedding cabinet, spread it on the floor, and then carefully laid the child down on it.

She then lifted his clothes to examine the wound.

Blood was still seeping from the child’s stomach, and quite a bit had gotten on Hae-Joo’s clothes as well.

Could she just clean the wound and apply medicine?

Hae-Joo placed a hand on the child’s forehead to check his temperature.

 

Just then, the child’s eyelashes fluttered, and soon his eyes opened drowsily.

Hae-Joo’s face immediately lit up with relief.

“Hey! You’re conscious? Are you okay? What should we do about your wound? Should I call a doctor? What can I do to hel—.”

As Hae-Joo spoke urgently, the child moved his lips, breathing slowly, and she held her breath.

“To… the Master… take me…”

“Huh?”

“The Master…”

The child spoke in a voice so faint it seemed it might break, and Hae-Joo shook her head.

“The Master is lying down in the next room. We need to treat your wound first.”

“The Master…”

The child stubbornly insisted on seeing Yi Ho.

Hae-Joo bit her lower lip hard and looked out the wide-open door.

The ravens had already gathered in small groups near the doorway, looking inside.

Just then, the sound of the courtyard gate opening and closing came from outside.

Looking back, she saw two ravens in the forms of a middle-aged man and a young man entering.

“It’s not there.”

“We couldn’t find it.”

They answered one after the other, and Hae-Joo gritted her teeth.

It couldn’t not be there.

Governor-General Saito had definitely taken out the Ten Thousand Bloodstone; she had seen it herself.

‘Maybe it was somewhere on Saito’s body?’

 

Had Saito’s body been taken to the police station? Or the Government-General building?

As Hae-Joo pondered, she felt something lightly tugging at her clothes and snapped back to attention, turning to look.

The child, his lips now blue, was mumbling something, but she couldn’t make out the words.

Seeing his clouding eyes, Hae-Joo’s heart sank, and she leaned closer to the child.

She was burning with anxiety, not knowing what to do.

But then.

“Stone…”

 

With that single word, the child closed his eyes.

“Stone? What kind of…”

A small hand lightly bumped against her knee.

Hae-Joo looked down absently, then her mouth fell open.

The child’s tightly clenched fist slowly loosened, revealing the dark red small stone she had been desperately searching for—the Ten Thousand Bloodstone—in his palm.

“This… this…!”

Amidst her overwhelming relief and joy, Hae-Joo looked up.

But she could no longer sense any life in the child’s face.

Hae-Joo shuffled closer on her knees and cupped the child’s cheek.

At that moment, the child’s body transformed.

Into a raven with sleek black wings.

The Ten Thousand Bloodstone, which had been clutched in the child’s hand, fell to the floor with a soft clatter and rolled away.

Hae-Joo stared blankly down at the raven, from which no breath could be felt anymore.

And before she could even process what was happening, the raven’s body crumbled into ashes, which then vanished without a trace.

Hae-Joo was stunned.

All that remained on the quilt she had hurriedly spread was a red bloodstain.

Bewildered, Hae-Joo looked toward the doorway.

The two ravens in human form, who had returned from searching the residence at her request, stood before the room, bowing their heads with sorrowful expressions.

Words Yi Ho had once said came back to her.

“When supernatural beings die, they just… disappear. So they’re just gone.”