As True as a Dream Chapter 92

When Governor Saito went on a tour of the provinces, Yi Ho didn’t see anyone except a few soldiers guarding the palace outside the walls, as if he had taken the whole family with him.

 

No, it’s just as well.

 

The conditions couldn’t be better for finding the Guishan Dao.

 

Yi Ho stepped out from under the trees and slipped into the darkness of the building.

 

The house was so large that it took a long time to search every room.

 

He searched every room, from the back rooms used by the occupants to the latrine, kitchen, bedrooms, and study.

 

But he hadn’t found the painting yet.

 

It couldn’t have been left in plain sight.

 

After running his hands along the floor, walls, and underside of the desk in the study, hoping to find some sort of device, Yi Ho stood up and moved toward the bookshelf.

 

Before he touched it, he took in the entirety of the bookshelf.

 

His eyes scanned the top shelves one by one until they landed on the middle shelf.

 

Unlike the other shelves, the wood between them was slightly raised.

 

He had just reached out to the bookcase to check the gap.

 

His sensitive ears perked up.

 

Somewhere in the house, which was otherwise silent except for the buzzing of grasshoppers, he could faintly hear a stifled sob, like a blocked dike bursting.

 

Yi Ho raised one eyebrow, turned, and moved to the doorway of the study, listening.

 

“[…Shut up…and walk!]”

 

“[Pass out… tonight… resolve… command….]”

 

He could hear unintelligible conversation mixed in with the stifled sobs.

 

Yi Ho quietly left the study and approached the back door of the manor where the sounds were coming from.

 

Once on the roof near the back door, he crouched low and looked down.

 

Unlike the clear, wide front path, the back door led to an alleyway narrow enough for a single car to pass through.

 

And in front of him, two military trucks stood with their lights off.

 

People dressed as prisoners with their hands tied behind their backs and their mouths gagged were led out of the warehouse and into the trucks by soldiers.

 

Suppressed sobs came from their throats.

 

“[You didn’t miss anyone, did you?]”

 

“[Yes, I checked].”

 

“[Go to the spot I told you about and lead these men to it. There will be further instructions from above].”

 

“[Acknowledged].”

 

A few soldiers checked the empty warehouse and immediately climbed into the truck.

 

Li Ho frowned.

 

The governor is afraid to leave the house to go on a provincial tour, and they’re going to deal with all of the house’s users this secretly?

 

The faces of the men crouching in the military trucks were all dark with fear.

 

Some of them were stunned, their pupils unfocused.

 

Traditionally, there is usually only one reason for this.

 

They heard something they shouldn’t have heard, or saw something they shouldn’t have seen.

 

‘What did the staff of this house know that they shouldn’t have known, that caused this madness?’

 

And the answer immediately popped into Yi Ho’s head.

 

Soon the truck was cautiously driving away, and Yi Ho tried to follow.

 

But as he stretched to get up, he felt a rush of heat in his stomach.

 

Fearing he was going to vomit again, Yi Ho made a face and suppressed the nausea in his stomach.

 

Outside the wall, a Japanese soldier with a gun stood guard over him.

 

If he so much as coughed in here, he’d be screaming that he’s here.

 

Yi Ho clenched his fists until his knuckles were white.

 

He swallowed hard, barely able to hold back the tainted blood that threatened to rise to his throat, and fought back the fiery pain that ripped through his stomach.

 

A cold sweat broke out, soaking the collar of his shirt.

 

Forgetting to breathe, he pressed down on the now familiar pain.

 

‘How long has it been?’

 

It seemed like an eternity, but also like an instant.

 

He lifted his eyes, all at once overwhelmed with fatigue, and looked toward the mouth of the alley where the truck had been.

 

He could see the back end of the truck disappearing into the distance.

 

He immediately looked around.

 

There were a couple of crows nearby, watching him.

 

He silently gestured toward the truck.

 

Two of them flew off in the direction the truck had disappeared, and one flew to his side and perched on the roof.

 

“…Get at least one of them alive and hide them.”

 

He ordered hoarsely, and the one remaining crow soon spread its black wings and took to the sky.

 

For a while afterward, Yi Ho remained motionless.

 

Only when the heat in his stomach subsided did he manage to move.

 

But his hands and feet were not strong enough, and he was almost spotted by the soldiers guarding the wall.

 

Feeling somewhat dejected, he crossed the main street and hailed a passing taxi.

 

“Where do you want me to take you?”

 

“Let’s go to Song yue Pavilion.”

 

“Are you sick? You look like shit.”

 

The taxi driver asked with interest, but Yi Ho looked at him coldly and closed his eyes.

 

He kept his eyes closed all the way to Song Yue, trying to compose himself.

 

By the time he got off the bus, he felt much better.

 

If anything, the nausea in his chest was only slightly lessened.

 

Frowning in annoyance, his vision caught sight of the people walking in and out of the Song Yue Pavilion’s entrance.

 

Instead of entering through the ornate gates, Yi Ho walked along the wall and through the dingy alleyways.

 

When the familiar black iron gates loomed before him, Yi Ho’s slow pace suddenly brought him to a halt.

 

The corner of his mouth quirked up to one side.

 

Someone was stepping behind him.

 

Their movements, regular, swift, and stealthy, were unlike the men Saito Mao had sent.

 

They hadn’t followed him from the governor’s residence.

 

The moment he stepped out of the taxi, he felt eyes on him from all sides.

 

At first, it didn’t seem to bother him, as it often did when he wasn’t wearing a mask.

 

He assumed it was because of his appearance or because they were Mao’s henchmen.

 

But it didn’t take long for him to realize.

 

There was even a hint of life in his movements as they surreptitiously watched him from a certain distance.

 

These are no ordinary people.

 

They are specially trained.

 

Like police, soldiers, etc…

 

He couldn’t tell if the people behind him were simply monitoring him or attacking him.

 

Judging from the cases since the establishment of Song Yue, both were possible.

 

Yi Ho sighed heavily and stared at the black iron gate in front of him.

 

He imagined Hae-Joo’s face waiting for him inside.

 

Yi Ho turned and walked back down the darkened path to the front of the Song Yue Pavilion.

 

The figure behind him did the same.

 

Undaunted, Yi Ho hailed another taxi and asked for a ride to the northern suburbs.

 

The taxi driver tried to talk him out of it, as it was nearing the end of the nighttime curfew, but he insisted on his destination.

 

The taxi driver shakily started the car, and Yi Ho closed his eyes, trying to rest his heavy body from the intense fatigue.

 

“We’ve arrived.”

 

Wordlessly, Yi Ho paid the taxi driver and got out of the car.

 

The taxi sped away in such a hurry that he was afraid to get out, turning around and heading back toward downtown Gyeongseong.

 

Seeing the back of it, Yi Ho swallowed a sneer.

 

He wasn’t sure if he was scared of being caught by the nighttime curfew, or scared of being in the cemetery clearing on the northern outskirts of the city at this time of night.

 

Yi Ho walked slowly, stepping on the unfamiliar dirt.

 

This was where he and Hae-Joo had first met.

 

He’d been knocked unconscious at the scene of the explosion, and his weakening body hadn’t recovered as quickly as before.

 

When he could barely move his shredded body, he opened his eyes to find a woman dressed in androgynous clothing staring down at him in horror.

 

She screamed as if she’d seen a ghost, and did a thirty-six-point turn.

 

A small smile tugged at Yi Ho’s lips.

 

The mountain of corpses over there was now neat and tidy.

 

But judging from the roughly compacted dirt behind them, it seemed that all the people who had died from the unleavened ointment had been buried down there.

 

And there were several large and small pits dug around it.

 

As if they had already dug a place to bury someone in case there was another tribulation in the future.

 

“Come out.”

 

He stopped in his tracks, spitting out words that had no bottom or end, and the footsteps behind him fell dead silent at once.

 

“You won’t come out?”

 

His downcast eyes flashed gold, and dark flesh spread out in all directions.

 

He strained his senses to locate those lurking in the darkness.

 

One, two, three… fourteen.

 

He sensed the movement of the vehicle that had been following the taxi, darting in and out in an organized fashion the entire way.

 

They were more organized than he’d realized.

 

In fact, he was in very bad shape.

 

He felt sick to his stomach from the vomit he’d just thrown up, and the pain in his stomach hadn’t subsided.

 

This had to be fast.