WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

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Chapter 112: Soyang Bridge Completion Ceremony

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December 16, 1933, Chuncheon.

The river had frozen from the edges inward. At every boundary between the thick ice and thin ice, and between the thin ice and the river water, rippling channels streaked the rising river mist with a hazy white.

Against that distant wash of white stood a newly built reinforced-concrete bridge.

Soyang Bridge.

"And then? What happened next?"

On the road leading there, Hajama Ayame took out her notebook, her eyes sparkling.

"So then, hah, those little beggars came rushing at me, chanting that bizarre incantation. I mean, I couldn't exactly break a bunch of little kids' bones, could I? So I dodged this way and that, swish, swish! I subdued them without leaving a mark..."

Han San explained with sweeping gestures. True to a regressor who had watched the 1988 Olympics, he gave a vivid play-by-play account.

"That's incredible. It really is."

As Han San's story moved from the Inje military police detachment to the Chuncheon street-cleanup initiative, Ayame let out an awed sigh.

"Not just catching the Baekbaekgyo followers, but everything that came after. Most amazing of all is that an orphanage was established in the end."

"Usually things don't turn out that way," Ayame muttered as she exhaled. Her white breath scattered between her wool scarf and newsboy cap.

"Your village was the same, San. You have a talent for making the places around you better."

Han San scratched the back of his head and laughed. It was a little embarrassing to hear.

"It just sort of works out that way. And I can't leave out your contribution to the orphanage, either."

Ayame was the major donor funding the orphanage's operations, and she had been instrumental in lifting the seizure of Mogok School's assets and applying for orphanage subsidies.

Still, she smiled and shook her head.

"I only helped with what you had already accomplished, San. You're giving me too much credit."

"You're too modest. Really. Anyway, I can arrange interviews with the Methodist churches around Mogok and throughout this area. If you'd like to speak with Director Namgung Eok directly, just let me know anytime."

"Oh, please do!"

"Then would that mean I've helped you with the private reporting you mentioned?"

"Of course! What you've told me already is an enormous amount of reporting material. Let me know whenever the construction date is set!"

Han San cheered inwardly.

This brought one long-running preparatory step to an end. He had secured all the specialized workers and equipment needed to prepare for the Great Flood of the Gap-sul Year.

"It's the middle of winter, so it would be difficult now. Maybe February or March next year? Once the Lunar New Year is over and the weather starts warming up, I'll make the formal request then."

When he had first called Hajama the Second to Meokbawi Valley in June to get an estimate, he had wondered when he would ever earn that much money. He needed to break ground by April. Could he really pull it off?

Yet look at him now, only six months later. Everything he needed to do was finished, and now he had to wait because of the weather.

'I'm pretty good at this.'

Han San puffed out his chest. He felt downright proud.

Ayame clasped her hands behind her back.

"Um, but... San."

"Yes?"

"If the rock drills aren't enough, you may have to do blasting work, right? With dynamite, for example... You need authorization to use that, though. I think you should keep that in mind."

"Ah, yes."

That was true.

'Her grandfather probably has plenty of dynamite, but...'

He was only borrowing construction workers. Han San himself was in charge of the Meokbawi Valley project, so he needed authorization to handle dynamite as well.

'Come to think of it, what exactly was all that dynamite for...?'

As Han San thought about the strange incident at the Dongnae villa that he had heard about from Bada in his previous life, Ayame lowered her head.

"Thank you, San."

It came out of nowhere.

"Yes? For what?"

"If you hadn't been there, I might have met the Baekbaekgyo people alone. And if, by some chance..."

Ayame glanced aside and shuddered.

Han San made a quiet sound.

No one but a complete lunatic would try to harm a wealthy Japanese young lady like Ayame.

Still, the future he had lived through had been full of lunatics, and this era was worse still.

'Baekbaekgyo are exactly that kind of lunatic...'

Hajama the First had also been bitten to death by a beast. Beasts did not care about their target's status or position.

The winter scent of the Soyang River drifted over them.

Tired of the somber mood sinking into the river mist, Han San made a suggestion.

"Why don't you learn some martial arts too?"

Ayame's eyes widened as round as her glasses.

"Martial arts?"

"Yes. It might be too much to subdue two or three people easily, but if you learn some self-defense, you could at least make an opening to escape from one person. You'd feel safer, too."

Ayame blinked. Her wide eyes narrowed into slits.

"San, you're really... Don't men usually say, [I'll protect you], at a time like this?"

"What?"

Han San's eyes widened too. Of course, as an adult close to her, he would protect her, but...

"If I'm nearby, of course I'll protect you. But I can't stay by your side twenty-four hours a day."

"Hmm."

Ayame lightly kicked a pebble. It rolled along, crossed the ice over the river, and dropped into the water.

Han San had no idea what that meant.

As they walked through the strange silence, a question he had put off suddenly came to mind.

"Uh, so, Ayame?"

"Yes?"

"Well, now that things have settled down a little, can I ask? Why did you want to do private reporting on religion...?"

"Ah."

Ayame hesitated for a moment, then lifted her head.

"Don't you think the value of believing has been judged too harshly these days, San?"

"What?"

"There's this feeling these days that believing in something is proof of stupidity. Whether that something is a god or a person."

Well.

An immediate answer rose in Han San's mind.

'Maybe it's proof that people who kept trusting and getting betrayed are finally reflecting on it.'

To believe was to expose your soft flesh to another person.

Whether it was your heart, liver, or brain.

The moment you decided to trust, what happened to it was entirely in the other person's hands. There was nothing more you could do.

Whether they pointed at the heart you had shown them and laughed, trampled it for fun, or took it away and handed it to someone else, you could only watch helplessly.

Strip away all the grand speeches and beautiful words, and wasn't that the nature of trust?

'So if I'm going to trust anyone, it should only be my family. Father, Mother, and Bada... Hm. That's too cynical a story to tell a young lady, isn't it?'

Han San gave a bitter smile and shook his head.

'Whatever. I'll just say something nice and gloss it over this time...'

That was when he noticed Ayame.

She had drawn her neck in slightly.

As if she were worried that she was saying something strange, or that he would think her strange for saying it.

As if she did not want, at least in front of him, to be seen that way. Yet despite that earnest wish, she seemed to have summoned a little courage and brought it up.

Seeing the young lady's heart laid bare before him, Han San spoke the words he had just decided not to say.

"Isn't it proof that people who kept trusting and getting betrayed are finally reflecting on it?"

Ayame paused.

Han San continued.

"What is trust, anyway? It's hoping that things will turn out a certain way. But what if they don't?"

"..."

"Then you're left with only two choices. Blame what you trusted, or blame yourself for trusting it. Either way, it makes you miserable.

"Wouldn't it be better not to trust in the first place? Then, when you see people who trust get betrayed, you can point at them and sing that you knew it all along. As long as you're laughing at someone else, no one's laughing at you."

"Sing?"

"Ah... That's a Sebeom Valley expression. There's just something like that."

Ayame sank into deep thought.

Han San went on.

"People might say that those who refuse to believe are being too cold-hearted, but..."

Han San tipped his chin toward Soyang Bridge.

"You saw it this time, didn't you? Look what those bastards who believed in the Great Magistrate did. All while believing they were doing good deeds themselves."

"..."

"If someone passing by asks for directions, give them directions. If there's someone around you whom you want to look after, look after them when you can.

"Life is too short even if you only do the things you can do. I don't know why everyone insists on trying to save the world when they don't have what it takes."

After he finished, Han San fell silent and took a deep breath.

Ayame said nothing for a while.

Only the sound of the river passed between them.

Then...

"You're right."

Ayame spoke.

"Yes, you're right..."

Then she looked at Han San cautiously.

"But... isn't it a little sad? You're still so young, San."

Han San smiled bitterly. His current body was only eighteen years old.

"Sometimes I do wonder if I'm living too bleakly. But does it really matter how I feel?"

The caution in Ayame's eyes deepened.

"It will matter to the people around you."

"It's fine. They probably don't even know I think this way."

Just as he had decided to carry the secret of his regression to the grave.

He only had to bear that burden himself.

Not knowing something was no different from it not existing.

As he thought that, Ayame suddenly lowered her head with a sulky expression.

"So I'm not one of the people around you?"

"What?"

Han San scratched the back of his head. Was that what it meant?

As he wondered whether he should comfort her, Ayame tilted her head and smiled.

"I'm joking."

The hand scratching the back of Han San's head stiffened.

"Honestly. Talking with someone like you is exhausting."

"I'm sorry." Ayame beamed, then tilted her head a little further. "And thank you."

"Thank me?"

"You told me because you trusted me, didn't you? We've met several times and talked about various things, but today feels like the first time I've really spoken with you, San."

"Ah... Well."

Han San scratched the back of his head again.

"You trusted me first."

Ayame smiled. Han San wondered what to do, then simply smiled along with her.

When their smiles mingled with their breath and became one with the mist over the Soyang River, Ayame spoke.

"San."

"Yes?"

"They probably know everything."

Han San paused.

"Don't you think they know?"

The river wind blew.

Han San thought of his mother.

He remembered how she had made sure the badger meat porridge would not go cold on the first day he went down to town. He remembered how she had puffed out her chest in delight when he had entrusted work to her.

He thought of Bada.

He remembered the final sight of his previous life, facing him before the Seonangdang shrine tree. He remembered the first sight of this life, Bada looking at him with shining eyes.

He thought of his father.

He remembered him adjusting the Type 38 infantry rifle to fit Han San's hands. He remembered Taeyang silently carrying a pair of trousers to the water's edge.

Then he remembered last Hangawi.

He remembered what he had said as he placed a family photograph on that mismatched altar.

[ Please be happy from now on, too. ]

Then his father's words passed through his mind once more.

[ You have to be happy. ]

Perhaps those had not been his father's words alone.

"I should work harder."

The moment he murmured that, cheers carried on the river wind.

When he raised his head, Soyang Bridge was right before them.

Several poles stood in the open area at the bridge's entrance. Flags of all nations and Rising Sun flags fluttered in the winter wind.

A crowd in durumagi and Western suits filled the space, with khaki military police uniforms and police constable uniforms scattered among them.

Along one side of the square stood a long line of automobiles. They were not the ordinary cars seen all over Chuncheon, but expensive ones, from their shapes to their colors.

"Over there, San."

"All right."

As he walked that way with Ayame, a civil servant dispatched from the Gangwon Provincial Office was managing entry.

"I'll check your invitations... Yes, Busan Daily reporter Hajama Ayame, confirmed... Han's Myriad Commerce, sajang Han San?"

The civil servant sprang to his feet.

"I received word from above. I'll escort you both this way."

The civil servant led them to the invited VIP seating arranged at the upper end of the open area.

Soft murmurs continued around them as they walked.

"Han's Myriad Commerce? That top chicken restaurant?"

"They've been making quite a splash lately. I heard they took over a fish shop at the market and will start selling there soon, too."

"That young man is being invited to the VIP seats, and what have I done with my life at this age...?"

"The young lady beside him is quite lovely too. He must even have a secretary."

Ayame tilted her head and looked up at Han San.

"They think I'm your secretary, San. Come to think of it, isn't your company hiring a secretary for its sajang?"

"Ah, come on. Have some dignity."

"Why? Even that civil servant reacted more strongly to your name than mine."

With her hands clasped behind her back, Ayame bent at the waist as she teased Han San. He could only laugh and shrug.

Before long, a different kind of gaze fell upon the two as they entered the VIP seating for the completion ceremony.

'Hm.'

Naturally, the VIP seating at Soyang Bridge's completion ceremony was not for people who had come to leisurely admire a bridge.

'It's a place for people with money, power, and connections to gather, sniff each other out, and size one another up.'

December 16, 1933.

A regressor boldly stepped into the Assembly of Dragons and Phoenixes, where Gangwon's rising talents tested one another's mettle.

Footnotes:

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