WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ The Hunting Genius of the Japanese Colonial Era

Chapter 15

──────

A Glorious Homecoming (2)

Before long, only Im Baechil and Han San were left at the village entrance. With Kim Tae-yang gone, Im Baechil finally caught his breath and gave a wheezing little laugh.

"Y-you worked hard, San. Those loads must've been really heavy..."

A sour taste filled Han San's mouth.

"Nah, not really. It wasn't that bad."

"I'll help! I'll carry some."

"No, there's really nothing you need to help with..."

"It's fine! You know I'm good at heavy lifting. So..."

Han San tried to turn him down again, but Im Baechil had already scooped up one of the cement sacks from his A-frame carrier.

His eyes bulged.

"Ack, it's heavy! Y-you carried this all the way?"

"...It was on the carrier, so it was fine."

"No such thing! Heavy is heavy no matter where it sits! Wow! I'll help you!"

Without waiting for an answer, Im Baechil scrambled ahead and started walking.

Han San opened his mouth to say something, then only let out a deep sigh and followed.

To be honest, with the cement sack that had made up nearly two thirds of the weight gone, things really did get a lot easier. As light as his body felt, though, one corner of his heart grew heavier.

On the slope climbing from the Lower Hamlet up to the Middle Hamlet, Im Baechil, panting hard, spoke up suddenly.

"That... San, I'm sorry."

The sudden apology made Han San lift his head.

"Huh?"

"Back there, when Taeyang was being mean, I couldn't even say anything..."

Good grief. So that had been weighing on him too.

Han San swallowed a bitter smile.

"What are you talking about? You did say something. You told him, [That's San's, if San says put it down then you put it down]."

"I-I only said it. In the end... huff, huff, I couldn't do anything... I really don't, huff, huff... I don't even know my own place..."

Han San's bitter smile deepened. It was so bitter and dry it would not go down his throat.

[Hey, Im Baechil. You gonna keep ruining my mood?]

[Look, I'm gonna go to Gyeongseong. I'm gonna study and make something of myself. Uncle Tae-chon and Taeyang are cheering me on. And you're standing there spewing that kind of buzzkill garbage?]

[Worried? Worried about what? Why would I need worrying from the likes of you? Honestly, this is absurd.]

[Baechil. A man has to know his own place, see.]

Staring at Im Baechil's back as he waddled along in front, hugging the cement sack, Han San spoke.

"I'm the one who should be sorry."

To Im Baechil, this was the apology that came out of nowhere.

"Huh? About what?"

Han San did not explain. He thought once about the past life in which he, of all people, had known his own place the least, then only sighed.

"From now on I'll do better, Baechil hyung."

"What do you mean, do better, huff, huff..."

Im Baechil broke off mid-sentence. Uh... what had San just called him?

"H-hyung, what hyung? Just call me by my name. We're close, you and me. We get along..."

Watching Im Baechil grin sheepishly, clearly pleased even as he protested, Han San's chest stung even worse.

"Even if we get along, a hyung's still a hyung. You're two years older than me, hyung."

Of course, in reality he was fifty years older right now, but did that matter?

In this life, at least, he'd recognize who treated him well and treat them well in return when he could.

He might not be able to save the world, but that much was possible.

"Let's hurry, hyung. It's cold."

"Yeah! Okay!"

With far lighter steps, the two climbed the slope again at a brisk pace.

After that, they traded a few more words, and soon they had crossed the Lower Hamlet and entered the Middle Hamlet.

In front of the familiar brushwood fence, Han San drew in a breath and shouted.

"Mother! I'm home!"

There was a clattering rush from inside the room, then bang—the paper sliding door flew open.

"San's home!?"

Ham Ssang-sim came barreling down off the porch, her face full of relief.

"Aigo, you brat, why are you so late!? I was just about to ask your father whether we shouldn't go out looking for you..."

She had been about to launch into a round of scolding when her mouth fell wide open.

Her gaze had locked onto the A-frame carrier her son had been hauling, and onto the huge sack Im Baechil was holding beside him.

"Omama... w-what is all this!?"

Han San grinned and set down the carrier.

"What else? Things I bought. Hyung! Put that down too."

"Hello, ma'am. Hup!"

Im Baechil bowed deeply and set down the cement sack, and thud—it landed heavily enough to shake the dust off the whole yard.

"Aigo, such a heavy thing! Baechil helped our San, did he!"

"N-no, no! I just carried it from the village entrance. San hauled all of it!"

Im Baechil said it with his face gone red. It was less embarrassment than fear of being misunderstood as someone trying to steal credit for another's effort. There are people in this world born with that kind of fear.

Knowing Im Baechil's nature, Han San raised his voice, partly to draw his mother's attention back to himself.

"Here, look, Mother! This is salt, a whole mal of it! A bundle of wire, oh, and that sack is cement! And this is rice and this is pork and..."

The longer his son's explanation went on, the wider the "aigo, aigo" beaming smile spread across Ham Ssang-sim's face. And what was that perched right on top of the carrier...

"Wow, a chicken! Hyung, you bought a chicken!? Is it our family's chicken!?"

Han Bada, who had come out after her, bounced up and down looking at the hen.

"Yeah, a chicken. Be careful. If it pecks and scratches you, you'll bleed, punk."

Han San grinned, grabbed the chicken by the neck, and set it down in front of Bada. "Cluck-cluck-cluck-cluck!" The chicken thrashed, but he didn't let it go yet. If it pecked or scratched, Bada could get hurt. So all the chicken could do was let out pitiful squawks as Bada, squatting down, poked at it.

"It's so white. White like snow."

"That's because it's a Western chicken. The breed's called Leg-horn... no, ugh, really, this pronunciation..."

"Hyung? What's wrong all of a sudden?"

"Nothing, just... Anyway, here. Take this. Candy for you."

When he pulled out the candy, his little brother went "Wow!" and popped it in his mouth, sucking away, and Han San ruffled his head.

"Aigo, my goodness... such precious things, aigo, our son did a proper job of it at the market, didn't he."

Ham Ssang-sim stroked the salt sack and the rice sack, unable to get her words out. During the spring hunger gap, wasn't this much the same as robbing some great household's storehouse?

Then Im Baechil wiped the sweat from his brow and shifted awkwardly.

"Well then, I'll be heading off, ma'am. San, see you again."

"Heading off, nothing! Where do you think you're going? Come in and eat before you leave!"

Ham Ssang-sim grabbed Im Baechil by the shoulder and the sleeve. Im Baechil waved his hands in protest.

"N-no, ma'am. That would be imposing..."

"Imposing, my foot! We're about to set the dinner table, so it's just a matter of laying out one more spoon, isn't it?"

"I-I'm really fine. My mom will be waiting..."

For all his flustering, Im Baechil could not help looking at the pork and the rice. His throat gulped without his meaning it to.

How could he not want to eat?

This was meat and rice, after all!

But then again, with his mother home alone, how could he eat?

On top of that came those peculiar thoughts of his that burrowed into the ground—things like whether his not being able to eat alone was really because he worried about his mother, or because he was afraid of rumors that he was a shameless brat who left his mother behind to eat good food at someone else's house, and if it was the latter, what a sorry excuse for a man he was, worrying about his reputation in a moment like this, and why he had no means of bringing such things to his own mother in the first place. Im Baechil's head grew tangled enough to burst...

That was when Han San came back out from the kitchen.

"Hyung, take these."

Han San scooped out a couple of handfuls of salt. In another dipper he cut some pork fat and laid it on top, then added a fistful of the badger meat left over from yesterday.

And rice too... He hesitated for a moment, but no—I'll be able to buy this much whenever I want from now on, he told himself, steadying his resolve, and yes, he pressed in some rice as well.

"S-San!?"

Im Baechil went past flustered into outright fear.

"S-such precious things... and rice, even! White rice... n-no, I can't take it!"

"Take it!"

Han San forced the dipper into Im Baechil's arms.

"You helped me. Carried that heavy thing all the way here."

"E-even so, this is too much..."

"Ah, enough! Just take it. Think of it as your work payment, hyung."

Han San was firm. Ham Ssang-sim chimed in from the side.

"That's right, take it! Where in the world is there such a thing as free labor? Let your mother eat some meat. Get her appetite going in the spring."

"Th-thank you, San. Really, thank you... Ma'am, thank you."

Im Baechil's eyes reddened. He bowed his head, flustered.

Han San grinned.

"If you're that grateful, then help me out again next time. When I've got something to haul, I'll call you, hyung."

"Aigo, that's right. Two grown men going about together is better than San going alone, isn't it, for carrying heavy things and all. The world these days is so dangerous, and it'd put my mind at ease too..."

At Ham Ssang-sim's words, Im Baechil seemed to feel a little easier, and he thumped his chest.

"Yes! You can count on me anytime, ma'am! San! Be sure to call me!"

Im Baechil left, cradling the dipper like a treasure jar. Watching that hulking back grow smaller in the distance, Han San let out a sigh.

'Should I take Baechil hyung with me next time I go down to town? I do need the manpower. Even buying five or ten won's worth of goods makes this much of a load, so when I'm buying twenty or thirty won's worth later...

Ah, but hyung can't take the mountain trails like I can. Following the new road, it's two or three times the distance to town.

Hmm, well, even if I buy a donkey or an ox cart and lead it around someday, those still can't take the mountains either...'

Was being lost in thought catching, too? A sharp sting across his back—smack—jolted Han San out of his musings.

"What's gotten into you, turning into a stone Buddha all of a sudden? Get in here quick, so this mother can show off her skills and make the table groan with what you brought home!"

Only then did Han San shake off his thoughts and laugh.

"I'll help too, with getting the food ready."

"Ah, never mind! Just go wash up. You're covered in sweat and dirt all over... Omaya. Don't you dare even think about stepping into my kitchen looking like that!"

He got smacked on the back again. Han San could only laugh, say all right, and back away.

Dinner that night was a true feast.

The rice, white as the first snow, gleamed with a glossy sheen. The savory smell of it rose the moment the pot lid came off, beyond all comparison with the likes of potatoes, with a sweetness on a whole different level from rice mixed with barley and sorghum.

On top of that was kimchi stew. Pork fat had been rendered down into a shallow pool of oil, the kimchi and meat fried in it as if searing, then water added and the whole thing boiled. With salt heaped in too, the taste of that broth seemed to seep into the whole body and then ache somewhere deeper still.

"I sliced up some badger meat with a little salt and traded it with the neighbors. That household sure does make good kimchi. Sharp and well-fermented, it tastes really good."

Han San, who had been wishing they had kimchi anyway, marveled at his mother's resourcefulness. Truly fitting for the manager who had fed the whole Han family almost with her bare hands.

"It's so good!!"

Han Bada chomped away happily, rice packed in one cheek, meat in the other.

"Eat slowly, punk. Once you get in the habit of just sending food straight down your throat, you eat a lot but taste less, and you lose out. Roll it around in your mouth with your teeth and tongue, nice and long, got it?"

"Mm!"

Han Bada followed his hyung's words and pressed the flavor out inside his mouth. Watching the sight contentedly, Ham Ssang-sim fished out a piece of pork and laid it on top of Han San's spoon.

"That fat was a real fine slab. After all the oil's rendered out, the leftover bits—fry them up crisp and crackling with a little salt and they're so good. I'll make some later, so eat that too."

"Ah, hearing that suddenly makes me crave a drink. I should've bought some liquor too."

"Aigo, the things that come out of your mouth! Liquor, at your age, honestly... never mind, just drink lots of the broth!"

Han San laughed and was about to put the meat his mother had given him into his mouth when he stopped. His father, who had been eating in silence, had given a slight twitch of his eyebrow at that last bit of talk before letting it droop again.

'Next time I'd better pick up a bottle of soju too.'

As they ate, Han San began spinning his tale of adventure—the story of haggling over the badger oil at the herbal shop, of looking around as he went through town, of how a request for the surveying equipment bag had been posted on the notice board, and so on.

Ah, the story about catching the snake and the one about meeting the wolf, he left out for now. His mother would be horrified, and he still wanted to keep the fact that he could catch snakes hidden.

There were plenty of stories worth telling without those.

"So I grabbed that bag, just like that! And when I slung it on, this huge cheer went up from way up top, waaah..."

"Wow... hyung, that's so cool! And then? What happened next?"

His little brother's eyes sparkled.

"Aigo, how dangerous. Must take after your father, with a gut that big. The very idea of climbing down somewhere like that—you nearly made this mother's heart drop right out of her."

His mother clicked her tongue and scolded, but unlike her words, her chopsticks moved diligently to lay the heartiest side dishes onto Han San's rice bowl. At the corner of her sidelong glare was a pride she could not hide.

His father moved his spoon in silence. But when Han San reached the part where he set his feet safely at the bottom of the cliff, the jaw that had been busily working paused, and then he nodded.

Han San pressed that scene firmly into his eyes and shoved his mouth full of rice.

'I want to keep living like this.'

With food to eat and people to share it with, that was truly enough for a person.

Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/wetried