WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

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Chapter 102: Chuncheon Beggar (1)

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Han San tilted his head.

"Religion?"

Ayame nodded.

"Yes. Everything from indigenous religions and folk beliefs to every branch of Christianity. Among Christians, I'm looking into not only newer arrivals, but also the descendants of people who went into hiding after being persecuted long ago. There was a similar case in the Empire too, called Kakure Kirishitan[1]."

Father Cho of Upper Hamlet suddenly came to mind.

'Was Father Cho also from a Catholic family that had continued for more than a hundred years?'

Han San knew little about religion, so he had no idea whether that was even possible.

Still, he was puzzled.

"Why religion...?"

Ayame hesitated and looked around the restaurant, where customers had begun to trickle in.

"That's a rather long story..."

Han San checked the time. There was still time before the dinner rush began in earnest.

"I'm fine with that."

Ayame gave a bitter smile.

"No, I'll tell you another time. It really is something personal."

If that was how she felt.

'There'll be plenty of chances to hear it later.'

Han San moved on to a more practical question.

"Do you really need my help?"

"It's not easy for me to conduct interviews in the first place."

Ayame sighed.

"Everyone is rather secretive, you might say. It's hard to make contact, and even when I do, they won't tell me anything in depth. Even Christians, who are allowed to proselytize openly and have established churches."

Wasn't that because she was a reporter?

"Is it because I'm Japanese? Because I'll always be an outsider in this land...?"

No, it was because she was a reporter. Han San sighed but did not say it aloud.

Ayame gave him a sidelong look.

"As if Mr. San hadn't failed to invite me over during the holidays... I shall remain an outsider in this land forever..."

"Didn't we settle that already...?"

"Hmph."

Ayame curled a loose strand of hair around her finger. Han San soon realized she was teasing him.

Sure enough, she smiled brightly.

"I've thought about what Mr. San told me last time. That I shouldn't place too much importance on where someone came from. That I should pay more attention to the benefits I gain or infringe upon. Wasn't that the point of what you said?"

"Well, yes..."

Han San scratched the back of his head.

Back then, this young woman had come up with some strange assumptions. Now that some time had passed, she had understood the implication on her own. She truly was clever and well educated.

"But not everyone can think that rationally."

"That's true enough."

Han San did not misunderstand her.

She was not lamenting that so many people in the world lacked rationality.

Even being rational required spending a resource called peace of mind.

Anyone who walked up to a person screaming in pain and said, [Hmm... screaming will only make your throat hurt more, so why are you doing something so irrational...?] while pushing up their glasses could only be classified as a complete bastard.

In an era when so many people struggled just to survive, few could afford that resource called peace of mind...

"Did you hear that Mogok School[2] in Hongcheon was raided recently?"

"Mogok School?"

Han San furrowed his brow. Ever since he had set foot in Chuncheon, he had been too busy catching chickens and making money.

'I check the papers every day, but there was nothing about it.'

Then again, newspapers took nearly a day to reach Chuncheon, and this was not an age when every event was promptly reported.

'Especially if it was a raid, it must have been related to public security...'

Most such incidents were only reported much later, with a brief outline. This was the era that would give rise to the military dictatorship's press controls.

His memories of his previous life did not react either, so it could not have been that major an incident...

"Yes, Mogok School. It's both a church and a school founded by a man named Namgung Eok."

At those words, a light suddenly flickered in his memories of his previous life.

[It's someone named Namgung Eok. They're making a burial site at Yuribong and moving his grave there. His Excellency is interested in it as well.

Since I was coming to Gangwon anyway, I thought I'd visit you too, hyung.]

During the Yushin regime[3] in 1977, Teacher Han Bada had said that Namgung Eok would be posthumously awarded the Order of Merit for National Foundation.

The incident from Namgung Eok's later years that he had explained at length back then was surely...

'The Cross Society Incident[4]! Was that happening now?'

His improved memory after regression brought back the outline Teacher Han Bada had told him.

'At first, he was arrested for distributing rose of Sharon[5] plants. Then, after some time had passed, the secret society called the Cross Society was exposed, and it turned into an enormous case.'

The regressor even remembered why the Cross Society had been uncovered.

'Finding the diary of a man named Kim Bok-dong was the decisive trigger...'

As Han San thought that far, Ayame let out a long sigh.

"Since then, it's become especially difficult to arrange meetings with Protestants. Because I'm Japanese. They must be worried that if I catch hold of even the smallest thing, I'll report them to the police.

...But can I blame them?"

Ayame shook her head.

"I was born Japanese and have enjoyed so much because of it. It's only right that I bear that wariness as well. Perhaps this is what they call original sin."

Her voice had sunk low.

Han San folded his arms, made a quiet humming sound, then spoke.

"Calling it sin is a little strange. Think of it as debt."

"Debt?"

Ayame raised her head, startled. Han San nodded.

"Yes. Debt inherited through relatives' joint guarantees. Sin has to be punished, but debt only needs to be repaid."

He continued.

"And the way to repay it is simple. Show your face often, be kind to your neighbors, and take an interest in poor aspiring writers. Just like you did today. If you keep doing that, a few of the people who were wary of you will open their hearts."

"A few..."

"What, do you want everyone to like you? Sorry, but you're not money, so that'll be difficult. There are plenty of strange people who say they hate even money because it's dirty."

Han San said it with a laugh.

Ayame blinked, then let out a soft laugh as well. Her shoulders trembled beneath her newsboy cap before she steadied herself.

"Ahem! So, rather than the Protestants, I was recently trying to investigate a group called Baekbaekgyo[6] that's been expanding its influence around here."

Han San paused.

"...Why those bastards?"

"I heard it's an indigenous religion that split off from the Donghak Peasant Movement. It seemed worth investigating."

Han San stared blankly at Ayame as she spoke with confidence.

"No... that's not a good idea."

"Oh? Mr. San, do you know something?"

Too much.

"I heard they're very bad people..."

"Mr. San, prejudices based on rumors narrow one's view."

Ayame said that with a little clearing of her throat, like an older sister finally getting to act older than Han San.

Han San felt wronged.

'It isn't prejudice... but I can't exactly explain this now.'

In the end, he could only scratch the back of his head.

"I'm worried about you. They're people who run around in groups preaching the end of the world. If someone as innocent as you got caught up in something..."

"Hmm. Innocent, am I? So that's how you see me. Hmm."

"No, I..."

Fortunately, Ayame did not tease the flustered Han San any further. She only smiled a little.

"If you're worried, why don't you protect me, Mr. San?"

"Hmm."

This was where his promise to help with her personal investigation had led.

'As a friendly older man, I can't let a young woman like her meet those dangerous people alone.'

At any rate, if he went with her, he could at least keep her safe.

"All right. Call me once you set a date."

"Yes!"

After arranging their next meeting, Han San saw Ayame off.

When he turned around, the hired hands were gathered some distance away, whispering as they looked his way.

"Marrying into a rich family..."

"Son-in-law of a surveying family..."

"Hajama San..."

Han San glared.

"Hey, what are you doing? Shouldn't you be taking care of customers?"

The hired hands who had been plotting treason scattered at once, and the seventy-four-year-old man buried himself in work again with a sigh of exasperation.

Chuk Hong-cheol came over just as the kitchen closed and the last customers had left.

"Sajang, those guys came again."

"Honestly."

Han San clicked his tongue and headed behind the restaurant with Chuk Hong-cheol.

Since November had begun, the days had grown frighteningly short. Small, skinny shadows wandered through the deep darkness.

They were the children from Chuncheon's beggar gangs. Their tiny hands held chicken bones picked clean by customers, along with vegetable scraps smeared with cigarette stubs.

"You little brats."

Han San clicked his tongue, then did as he always did.

"Brother Baechil! Chief Hong-cheol! Bring over those chicken bones, as clean as possible.

Damn it, how many times do I have to tell these customers not to knock cigarette ash onto the plates they ate from? They must be fairly well-off if they come here, but do they never listen? This really is an era without manners."

He swept the collected bones into a large cauldron, added several doe of mixed grains, and boiled them into porridge. All the while, Han San kept grumbling.

"Be careful, it's hot. Don't put your lips right on it like last time."

When he handed out the chicken-bone porridge, the beggar children hesitantly came forward, snatched their bowls, then darted back again.

Little shapes moved busily beneath the shadows of Chuncheon at night, while loud slurping and smacking spread through the darkness.

"Our sajang really is kind."

Han San snorted at Chuk Hong-cheol's words.

"Kind, my foot. If they rummage through the trash, the area around the restaurant gets dirty. The people who come here are, again, relatively wealthy customers. It doesn't look good either. It's just like controlling rats."

He truly did not think he was doing a kind thing.

'If I were really kind, I'd use proper ingredients and set them a decent table. Not boil up chicken-bone waste and toss in some mixed grain.'

Even in his old age in his previous life, doing this would have gotten him plastered across a weekly magazine at once.

[Shocking! The young sajang of a luxurious restaurant making a fortune gives food waste to pitiful street orphans? Where will arrogance and corruption end?]

Yet Chuk Hong-cheol and Im Baechil only smiled as they looked at Han San.

One era's horror story became another era's heartwarming tale.

Han San had no interest in such discussions of relativity.

The unkind seventy-four-year-old was more interested in figuring out how to make use of these children.

'For example, could I use them as delivery boxes... I mean, could they be delivery boys?'

Hmm, probably difficult.

They would know the streets around here inside out, but the problem was whether he could trust them.

'Uneducated children are just monkeys, after all.'

There was a reason "motherless, fatherless bastard" was the ultimate insult. Han San, who had lived through the chaos after liberation and the Korean War, knew that especially well.

'Compared to street children like these, even slash-and-burn village kids like Jin-dong could be called young masters with a higher education...'

As Han San sighed while calculating things in his head, Im Baechil was chatting among the children with his usual innocence.

"You know, I was big, so I went hungry a lot when I was young too. But now I've met good people, so, um, kids? C-could you not pull on that?

Uh, no, that's my button! H-hey, kids! My shoes! No! My clothes, those are my clothes! Don't take them off me, stop! Please don't take them! S-Sajang! Senior Hong-cheol! Help me..."

Of course, the reality was that the beggar children had spotted him and thought, "Oh? Who's this bastard? His clothes and shoes are nice. We should take everything." They enthusiastically began hunting him down, and only after Chuk Hong-cheol stepped in did Im Baechil manage to escape in a panic.

Leaving Im Baechil behind, looking disheveled as he tried to calm his pounding heart, Han San asked,

"Don't you have a boss?"

The little shapes in the night looked at each other. The smallest child stepped forward.

"The boss is gone."

"Gone?"

"Yeah. We had a boss. But the boss is gone."

The smallest child spoke in broken phrases. Then the other children cautiously came forward one by one.

"Us too! We used to stay up in the upper neighborhood! But when we came back from begging, our boss hyung and a few others were suddenly gone!"

"All the kids who stayed across the river disappeared!"

At the chirping voices, Han San's eyebrows shot up.

'The beggar gang bosses are disappearing? Whole gangs are vanishing too?'

A bad feeling ran down the regressor's spine.

And such feelings were usually right.

"White, white, white... may your righteous, righteous, righteous response, response, response come to us..."

"White, white, white... may your righteous, righteous, righteous response, response, response come to us..."

Something clattered.

The smallest child had dropped their bowl. The other beggar children, who had been giggling while holding Im Baechil's clothes and shoes, all retreated behind Han San at once.

The moment Han San took a step forward.

"Long live the Great Magistrate, who will save this world from the judgment of fire and the judgment of water. With one person's whiteness, he shall make the whole world white.

Good evening. Forgive us for disturbing you so late at night."

Two men in white clothes and white caps entered the restaurant's back courtyard with their hands clasped together, smiling.

[1] Kakure Kirishitan were Japanese Hidden Christian communities who preserved their faith in secret after Christianity was outlawed under the Tokugawa shogunate.

[2] Mogok School was a church-school in Hongcheon founded by the independence activist Namgung Eok (1863–1939), whose activities drew colonial scrutiny.

[3] The Yushin regime was Park Chung-hee's authoritarian South Korean government under the 1972 Yushin Constitution, which lasted until 1979.

[4] The Cross Society Incident was the colonial crackdown on a Christian-influenced secret association linked to Namgung Eok.

[5] Rose of Sharon is the common English name for Hibiscus syriacus, later adopted as Korea's national flower and widely associated with Korean national identity under colonial rule.

[6] Baekbaekgyo was a Korean millenarian religious movement notorious for the mass murders committed by its leadership after its exposure in the 1930s.

[7] Sajang is a Korean form of address for a business owner or proprietor.

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