WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

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Chapter 11: The Marketplace

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A cold wind swept in the moment he stepped out of the gukbap house. Han San cut through it with his shoulder, walked on, and stopped when he reached his destination.

Dead center of town stood a police constable substation, the Rising Sun flag[1] flapping above it.

People passing in front of it dropped their heads or quickened their steps, as if by some shared agreement. Being born was a crime in any world, but in this era it was worse than usual.

Yet even those people had one spot where they raised their heads and paused for a moment.

The big notice board beside the substation.

It was plastered thick with all sorts of official bulletins and posted proclamations. Some were posters painted in oil-based colors; others were warning notices meant to grab attention.

If newspapers pulled in information broadly from far away, this board gathered news closer to home.

Only, most of it was written in the national language[2], which is to say Japanese.

"What's that one say now? Look at the state of that drawing."

"Harmful wildlife... rang... looks like it's talking about some kind of wolf."

Even now, more than twenty years after annexation, Joseon people blind to Japanese were everywhere you looked.

But Han San skimmed the board. To a man who had accumulated seventy-four years of experience, Japanese was no strange language.

[Re: Harmful Wildlife Eradication: Wolf Pack Sightings Ongoing]

'So that's what Go Tae-chon claimed he saw.'

A wolf pack really did exist after all.

'And it's near our village. That part's true too.'

The notice said they were mainly spotted east of the Inbuk Stream and the Naerin Stream, from Misiryeong Pass through Daecheong Peak all the way to Hangyeryeong, along the central spine of Gangwon.

'Now that I think of it, there was something noisy about wolves around this time...'

The word wolf. The exact location and time written on the bulletin.

His memory lit up, as if certain conditions had clicked into place.

[Those Siberian wolves, their pack leader, see? Covered in silver fur, they say. Silver Star! With a name like that, it's a named one, I'm telling you!]

[Even from Gyeongseong, see? Someone came down, that's what I'm saying.]

[Mr. Han, no, Hunter Han! For the village, just once, huh? Even with your leg the way it is, you can still set traps, can't you? Catch it, and you protect the village and Sebeom Valley's name spreads far and wide. Am I wrong?]

What surfaced this time was, again, the voice of that infuriating Go Tae-chon.

He had no memory of how his father had responded.

Back then he'd had no interest in whatever his father was doing. To be more precise, he had strained himself trying to make it obvious that "I have no interest at all in what my father does."

Deliberately whirling away from a spot, walking past without so much as a greeting...

'Childish little punk.'

Cursing his past self, Han San clicked his tongue at the bitter taste in his mouth.

Still, the fact that it left no mark on his memory meant nothing much had come of it afterward.

Whether his father had refused, or the wolf had slipped past the traps, he couldn't say. It meant even loose-lipped Go Tae-chon had gone quiet, so the wolf commotion must have skirted Sebeom Valley and fizzled out.

'A wolf, huh...'

The old one he'd seen at Neodeolbawi came to mind. Had it been pushed out and lost its place to this so-called Silver Star?

'But the official bulletin doesn't list any wolf's name to begin with.'

Thinking he might have missed it, he looked again, but it really only listed the sighting areas.

There was no name for any wolf.

'Is it because that comes later?'

Come to think of it, Go Tae-chon had come about that business sometime past May. A full month later.

'I'll just keep it in mind.'

Han San nodded and skimmed the other news.

[Reinforced Poaching Crackdown Period]

[Caution, Bandit Sightings]

[Unlicensed Mine Excavation Strictly Forbidden! Possession of Explosives in Particular Will Be Severely Punished. Internal Informants Will Be Pardoned and Rewarded]

[New Road Laborers Wanted... Minimum Daily Wage of 60 Jeon or More Guaranteed. Details per On-Site Regulations]

Most of it was content he had already read or guessed at in the newspapers, but one bulletin caught his eye sharply.

[Re: Recovery of Lost Surveying Equipment

During surveying for the Hangye-ri new road expansion, a special surveying instrument case fell off a cliff.

Location: near Daeseung Falls

Reward: 5 won

Conditions: Recover the equipment fully intact, without damage, and hand it over to the on-site supervisor.

Caution: The authorities bear no responsibility whatsoever for any injuries incurred during the attempt.]

Along with a line telling readers to confirm further details on-site came the name of whoever had posted the bulletin.

[Inje Military Police Detachment Commander, Sawada Kazuo]

Han San stared at the name in silence, then, on a sudden impulse, looked past the board toward the constable substation.

The substation grounds were large. Larger than the county office building. Because what stood here was not only the building the constables used. Han San knew very well what sort of bastards used the biggest, grandest building deep inside.

'Inje Military Police Detachment...'

Around the start of the twenties, the gendarme police system[3] had been abolished and the military police had backed off for a while, but coming into the thirties they were throwing their weight around again. As the Empire ran wild, their momentum would only grow.

Han San scanned his surroundings. He saw alleys stretching to the left and right of the substation and a few tile-roofed houses.

For a moment he thought of climbing up there to look over the inner yards of the substation, but he decided against it.

There was nowhere to set down his A-frame carrier, and the mountain trek had eaten up a lot of his stamina. No harm in waiting until he'd stopped by town a few more times and grown more familiar with it.

He turned his thoughts back to the bulletin.

'Reward of 5 won.'

The same amount as the money in his coat right now, and that money could be doubled just by picking up a single case?

'Daeseung Falls is right on the way home. And a spot near there fit for new road construction... I think I roughly know where they mean.'

A piece of terrain flashed through his head like lightning.

'It's only a bit rougher than the trail up to Neodeolbawi where I picked up the snake. If I really pull it off, I think it could work.'

The real question, if anything, was whether the job would still be open by the time he got there.

Han San studied the bulletin. It looked clean, as if freshly posted, but this was the era it was.

Hearing the news on-site, passing it along, turning it into a document, and getting the reward approved would all take days.

It wouldn't be strange at all if, by the time he actually arrived, the equipment had long since fallen and shattered, or some skilled hand had quietly dealt with it already.

'Well, it's on the way anyway.'

Han San kept his heart light. If it was there, good; if not, he'd just call it a look around the construction site.

There were no other notices that stood out.

'I've seen everything worth seeing now.'

Han San let out a long breath.

In this era, where even radios were rare, returning to Sebeom Valley would cut him off from information again for a good while, so filling himself to the brim with news like this mattered a great deal.

It would have been perfect to plant himself at a tavern and listen to people talk on top of it, but his time was too tight to manage even that.

He decided to save it for next time.

'Let's go to the market.'

It was finally time to spend money.

The Inje town marketplace, reached once more.

Han San ran his hand over the 4 won 80 jeon in his coat and moved on without hesitation.

'Salt first.'

For people to live, salt was more urgent than rice. All the more so in a slash-and-burn village deep in the mountains.

Worn out from pouring every ounce of focus into salting the crayfish and badger skewers, fretting that even a single grain might miss, his whole body was demanding revenge-spending on saltiness.

Standing before the salt stall, Han San gave his order before he'd even set down his A-frame carrier.

"One mal, please."

The salt shop owner faltered. The frown that had formed the moment he saw the shabby slash-and-burn settler twisted into one of a different meaning.

"Young man, you got the money? A whole mal runs over 1 won..."

"I've got it, right here. Pack me the coarse kind, full to the brim."

When Han San pulled out his 1 won bills and waved them, the owner's eyes changed in a flash.

"Aigo, a rich man, a rich man! No wonder you had such a blessed look about you. Here, here, let me throw in an extra handful! Give me a sack, a sack!"

"Ah, if you could spare a sack too, a sack would be..."

"...Ah, sure! Hmm! Blessed indeed!"

So he spent another 1 won 20 jeon, and a heavy sack of salt sat atop his A-frame carrier. Converted to modern measures, it came to roughly fifteen kilograms.

He'd already finished calculating how much weight he could shoulder on the way here.

'At most I can carry eighty kilograms. Considering I have to take mountain trails, half of that, about forty kilograms, is the limit.'

While he relied on the carrier, he had to do his shopping within this weight.

[Salt 1 mal: 1 won 20 jeon spent / balance 3 won 60 jeon]

[Salt 15kg, total 15kg / 40kg]

Han San hoisted the carrier again and nodded.

'Enough.'

Next was the grain stall.

The whole country was crossing the spring hunger gap, but short of an outright famine, the places that had goods had them. Heaped foxtail millet, sorghum, barley, brown rice... Han San skipped over all of it and looked at the gleaming polished white rice.

'White rice, huh...'

How long had it been since the family had eaten white rice? Even in Han San's past life, which had passed through the era of high economic growth, he hadn't gotten to eat his fill of rice until he was well into old age.

These were the things he had only set on his parents' memorial table after they were gone; let him set them before his parents while they were young and alive.

"That rice. Just two doe, please."

"Two doe? Of white rice?"

The grain stall auntie's eyes went round. Han San nodded without hesitation and held out the money first.

"Aigo, the young man's got a generous hand! All right. I'll give it to you without leveling off the measure."

"Thank you. ...But you said you wouldn't level it?"

"This measuring cup runs a bit big, you see? Leveling it off like this is what makes it the exact amount."

"Then I'll have to level off the price too. I've got a big cup myself, so leveling it off is what makes it the exact sum."

After fierce negotiation, money changed hands and the goods were loaded onto his means of transport.

[White rice 2 doe: 45 jeon spent / balance 3 won 15 jeon]

[White rice 3.3kg, salt 15kg, total 18.3kg / 40kg]

'Outrageously expensive, truly.'

Still, no regrets. Not when he thought of tonight, leftover badger meat piled atop steaming rice.

Badger meat...

'Hmm... since I've come all the way to town anyway.'

Han San headed for the butcher's.

"Mister, you got pork?"

The butcher, his beard cropped short and his head gone clean bald, nodded.

"Sure do. Boar's a bit cheaper, sow's a bit pricier."

"Hmm... sow meat, then. Cut me two geun from a part with good thick fat."

If he'd decided to spend on meat anyway, he'd spend all the way. They were probably still castrating boars around this time, but a boar with almost no gamey reek, like the kind he'd eaten in his past old age, would surely be rare.

"The fatty cut's pricey. You know that?"

"I know, of course. I've got money."

The butcher took the money, slapped the pork belly with two solid thumps, and handed it over. There was no such cut as samgyeopsal[4] yet at this time; now and then some learned folk might mention the term segyeopsal at most.

"Here you go! This'll render a ton of fat!"

"Thank you."

[Pork 2 geun: 60 jeon spent / balance 2 won 55 jeon]

[Pork 1.2kg, white rice 3.3kg, salt 15kg, total 19.5kg / 40kg]

The A-frame carrier had gotten properly heavy.

"Bought a lot."

He had to buy more.

He thought of his family's feet. His father's straw sandals worn through. His mother's cracked heels. Bada's reddened toes. He himself was in a state where dirt seeped in through the gaps in his straw sandals.

"I'll buy four pairs of rubber shoes. For sizes, give me that one, that one, and that one."

"Oya! Take 'em! One's small, so I'll knock the price down a bit!"

[Rubber shoes 4 pairs: 1 won 25 jeon spent / balance 1 won 30 jeon]

[Rubber shoes 3 pairs 1.5kg, pork 1.2kg, white rice 3.3kg, salt 15kg, total 21kg / 40kg]

Han San loaded only three pairs onto the carrier and put on one pair right there on the spot.

'Nice!'

He gave a light hop and clapped both rubber-shod soles together.

'Even that bedrock face is no trouble with these.'

Rubber soles clung to rock the way octopus suckers do. On leaf-covered trails, wet paths, or snowy ground they slipped worse than straw sandals, but there were ways to deal with that when the time came.

'With the money left, now...'

Han San's roving eyes turned toward a corner of the market.

White chickens sat inside a chicken coop. As they clucked "kkokko" and pecked at feed, Han San went up and asked.

"These, are they Leg-horns?"

The coop owner blinked.

"You talk like that on purpose? Bite your tongue wrong?"

"Ah, it's just a bit... anyway, am I right?"

"Yeah. Foreign hens, lay eggs like clockwork. Foreign hens. Pricey."

"How much?"

"1 won."

Pricey. But still... hmm... hens lay eggs. Bada was right in the thick of growing... no, normally eggs go to the head of the house, but if he built it up one bird at a time... and a coop, between him and his parents they had the hands to manage one somehow...

His thinking ran long, but Han San's hand was already pulling out money as if entranced.

"Give it here. The Leg-horn."

"Why d'you talk like that, I'm asking??? Strange one???"

[Leghorn hen 1: 1 won spent / balance 30 jeon]

[Leghorn hen 1.5kg, rubber shoes 3 pairs 1.5kg, pork 1.2kg, white rice 3.3kg, salt 15kg, total 22.5kg / 40kg]

The chicken flapped and was tied to the very top of the A-frame carrier.

It was about time to wrap up. The next place he headed was the general store.

"Welcome. Looking for something?"

"I'd like to buy some oil."

"Oil? What kind. Lamp oil? Castor? We don't sell cooking oil here."

"You got machine oil?"

"Machine oil?"

The general store owner looked puzzled. What's a fellow dressed like a slash-and-burn settler want with machine oil?

"You got a sewing machine at home or something?"

"No. The knives at home are, ugh. And the sickle's iffy too..."

"Then you should buy a whetstone, no?"

"They say it's good to apply machine oil after whetting."

Han San said it smoothly. The owner nodded.

"Well, that's true. Good for polishing iron. Here. It's an import, so it's a bit steep: 10 jeon."

The owner brought out the machine oil. That tiny bottle ran a full 10 jeon.

But Han San paid without hesitation.

[Machine oil, a little: 10 jeon spent / balance 20 jeon]

Once he'd tucked that bottle snugly into his coat, his heart settled.

He hadn't told anyone, but this little bottle too was one of the purposes of his trip to town.

Because...

'This is oil for cleaning a gun!'

Firearm maintenance!

The Type 38 infantry rifle at home. For its sake, Han San had laid out a number of plans.

The order in which they were carried out mattered immensely, and the slightest misstep could ruin everything; cleaning the firearm was, without question, the plan that had to come first of all.

His father had probably tended to it now and then, but it had been more than fifteen years since he'd seized that rifle in the first place. It needed to be stripped down once, cleaned, and reassembled.

'For the cleaning cloth a rag will do, and I've got the newspapers I bought earlier, so there's no need to buy any separately.'

It was just as Han San was about to leave the general store that his gaze caught on one end of the display counter.

[1] The Rising Sun flag is the national flag of Japan; here it flies over the colonial police post.

[2] Under colonial rule, "the national language," or kokugo, meant Japanese, which the authorities pushed as the official tongue even though many Koreans could not read it.

[3] Under the early colonial "gendarme police" system, the Kempeitai doubled as civil police from 1910 to 1919; eased off in the 1920s, they reasserted their grip through the 1930s.

[4] Samgyeopsal is the three-layered cut of pork belly now iconic to Korean barbecue; the word had not yet come into use, and people spoke at most of segyeopsal, meaning "three-layer flesh."

Footnotes:

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