WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
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Chapter 162: In 1934, the Regressed Gangwon Hunter (3)
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There were several things only a king could do.
The most representative of them was diplomacy.
Sawada had come. At his sides were his adjutant Tendo and Constable Kim Gang-cheol.
“Damn it. The road was filthy. Can’t even a new road hold up on this Chosun soil?”
Sawada grumbled as he shook mud from the leg wraps around his calves.
Han San played along.
“How could it hold up in this rain? One day, I’m going to pave the whole road with asphalt. When that day comes, please lend a hand so things can run smoothly, Captain.”
“Hmph. You talk well enough. No matter how good you are at making money, paving asphalt all the way here would...”
Sawada stopped speaking. This bastard might actually do it.
In truth, Han San intended to.
‘The work in Meokbawi Valley is finished, so that money has freed up. Honestly, how long must the road to Sebeom Valley take a fourteen-hour walk by the new road’s winding route?’
Of course, [tribulation] had now been broken.
His family no longer had to remain tied to Sebeom Valley.
There was a good chance they would keep separate residences in Chuncheon. And in Gyeongseong.
But did people who did business in their hometown have to live there to do it? One’s hometown was where one returned, and naturally, one made the way home easier.
‘Besides, it’s a place I need to keep an eye on for business...’
Gold came out of Meokbawi Valley, just as he had thought when he secured the land deed through Malja.
As Han San considered that, the military police and Kim Gang-cheol stiffened.
“Wh, what are those?”
Ham Byeong-cheol, followed by his maternal relatives and the people of Upper Hamlet, was bringing corpses on stretchers.
“They came after me.”
Han San wore a grave expression, as though he could not understand why anyone would target someone as kind as himself.
“They’re Baekbaekgyo[2] remnants, right? That one looks like their leader. Kim Gun-ok, or something?”
“Huh.”
Krrrk. Sawada rolled the steel balls in his hand.
He had suspected as much ever since he received the telegram saying those bastards had fled toward this area. They would either escape overseas through Sokcho or go where this Chosun bastard was.
“Are you planning to call it self-defense?”
“That’s simply what happened. One of our village elders was shot and is now hovering between life and death.”
“Hmph. Even if that is true, a civilian has no right to do this so freely.”
Han San only widened his eyes before Sawada’s threat.
“Huh? Am I a civilian?”
“What?”
“Come on, Captain. Who am I? I may be contracted, but I’m an [assistant forest warden][1], aren’t I?
“Putting down these rotten cultists who stir up the forest. Isn’t that exactly what someone overseeing the forests should do?”
Sawada’s expression became strange. Did an assistant forest warden have that authority?
“Just look at my name.”
Ignoring him, Han San lifted his chin to the sky, puffed out his chest without a shred of shame, and continued.
“I am Han because I am great and whole. I am San because I dwell in the mountains.
“I am one who exists by his alias alone.
“Han San.
“Whenever you climb a mountain, whenever you cross a peak, the name Han San shall be engraved upon you as a sentinel...”
Tendo, Sawada’s adjutant, and the military policemen, who had been unnerved by the sudden appearance of corpses, looked impressed.
“Oh... Han San, one who exists by his alias alone...”
“Not bad...”
“He said he was opening a publishing house soon. It seems we underestimated the literary level of the peninsula.”
“It truly is an expression beyond the peninsula’s level.”
Only the Chosun constable Kim Gang-cheol wore an unusually inscrutable expression as he looked between the military police gentlemen and Han San.
Even Constable Kim Gang-cheol, who praised the Japanese Empire and scorned Chosun, could not bring himself to cross a certain ethnic gulf between them.
Sawada had that line too. Samurai were not normally close with the brush.
“Stop spouting bullshit.”
“Yes, sir.”
Han San was not particularly close with the brush either, so he stopped at once.
Sawada stopped picking a fight and gave a tsk.
“Fine. In short, you want to turn these bastards into Government-General merit points through me.”
“Now that I think back, I may have received orders from you, Captain. Something like, ‘If you see them, deal with them first and report afterward.’ It feels as though we carried out a joint operation...”
“Enough, enough.”
This was the story.
The Inje military police detachment had pursued and shot dead Kim Gun-ok, the last remnant of Baekbaekgyo, former head seat of the Thunderbolt Masters and current Great Magistrate.
In the process, Han San, contracted assistant forest warden and local notable, had cooperated.
There was no loss for Sawada. Rather, it was the kind of straightforward achievement he liked.
He had captured the very remnants mentioned in Baron Toono’s telegram before disaster recovery was even complete.
What would the military police commander in Chuncheon say? How would Gyeongseong respond?
‘It irritates me to act according to this Chosun bastard’s designs, but...’
Sawada could not deny that he had grown accustomed to it.
“Tendo.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Kim Gang-cheol, prepare witness statements from this bastard Han San and the families of the villagers said to have suffered harm.”
“Understood, sir!!!”
The Baekbaekgyo remnants’ corpses were thus taken into custody.
It was the moment when the cult, infamous in Han San’s previous life as the worst in history, was completely uprooted from this land.
Myo Gang, the former do-yusa[3] and sole surviving former member of Baekbaekgyo, watched from afar while rubbing his chest in relief. This was why one had to know which side to stand with.
Sawada watched the bodies being taken away with unconcealed satisfaction, then frowned.
“Looks like I’ll be leaving the moment I arrived.”
“Is the road still that bad?”
“Can’t you see? It’s too bad for a car, so I walked here.”
“Honestly. I’ll provide some help. Uncle Hong-cheol! Bring a few people with free hands over here. And bring two ox carts.”
That was how it went.
While Baekbaekgyo’s final remains were loaded onto Nureung-i’s cargo bed, Han San stood with his hands behind his back and exchanged news with Sawada.
“How are things in Inje?”
“Well, I can’t say those men you sent have been completely useless.”
Sawada said that, and Han San was satisfied. Vice President Chuk Jae-seok seemed to have done well.
Come to think of it.
“Didn’t Mr. Jaeseok come with you? I thought he would insist on coming if he heard you were arriving, Captain.”
Sawada gave another tsk.
“He did. But others arrived at that time, so he’ll arrive a little later with them.”
“Others?”
Sawada’s one eye slid toward Han San.
“The young lady of the Hajama family and your younger brother.”
“Ah.”
A faint smile spread across Han San’s lips.
Sawada, unusually, snorted with laughter.
“Hmph. You do not harbor foolish feelings for a young lady from the Mainland, do you? Give it up. A Chosun burakumin[4] native like you could never reach for a flower of the highlands.”
“Oh, it’s not like that...”
“Isn’t it?”
Sawada asked with a furrowed brow, and Han San thought for a moment.
Then he shook his head.
“Now that I think about it, I may have some feelings.”
“Chosun bastard.”
“And.”
Han San smiled at Sawada.
“Whatever feelings I have for the young lady are none of your concern, Captain. They’re my private affairs.”
Sawada barked.
“Chosun bastard!”
Sawada raised his brows, but Han San did not look away.
A moment passed.
Sawada did not bark at him again.
Instead, he grinned.
“Yes. You need that much guts.
“Even if you are a Chosun bastard.”
Han San’s smile deepened.
‘This man really is consistent.’
Now that he had looked back over his memories of his previous life, Han San could think that. Sawada’s temperament was certainly twisted.
“Since we’re on the subject, Captain, don’t you date anyone?”
“Hmph. I am betrothed to the Empire. I have no time to spare for women.”
Han San honestly thought the Japanese Empire ought to be asked what it thought of that, but he voiced another honest opinion instead.
“Even if you do not date, how about adopting a son or daughter? Or taking on a disciple?”
Sawada’s brow twitched, especially at the latter suggestion.
“A disciple?”
“Yes. You look like you would be good at martial arts, Captain. Kendo, perhaps. You could open a dojo in your spare time. Something like, ‘I shall pass down Japan’s true swordsmanship to this land!’”
Sawada was about to scoff, then rested a hand on his chin and fell into thought.
Before long, he let out a groan.
“I have no desire to say this to you, but I cannot deny it. It is an excellent suggestion.”
“Haha, I’m grateful you think so.”
“Do not laugh.”
“What can I do if it makes me laugh, Captain? Let it slide.”
Sawada only furrowed his brow and said nothing more. The [man destined to rule the realm] was busy imagining himself spreading his swordsmanship across this land.
Naturally, even Sawada, a stickler for the rulebook, did not concern himself with whether an active-duty soldier had time to run a kendo dojo or whether it was legal in the first place. It was an age when everyone lived loosely.
Han San’s thoughts turned elsewhere as he watched the sunset beginning to hang in the distant sky.
“Ah. The sun will set in a few hours... I wonder whether the road will be all right. For Miss Aya and Bada too.”
“Are you planning to go meet them?”
Han San seriously considered it, then shook his head with a sigh.
“No. Mr. Jaeseok will handle it well.”
The old man knew that there was a difference between concern and obsession, especially when there was still a mountain of work to do.
He made only one request.
“If you happen to meet them on your way back, please take care of them.”
Sawada did not answer. He only nodded once.
“We are ready, sir!!”
“Mm.”
Before leaving with Baekbaekgyo’s corpses, Sawada left Han San with one remark.
“Come to Inje when things are settled. It seems there will be a commendation in Gyeongseong. We will go together.”
“Oh. Understood.”
Han San, who had vaguely expected it, nodded immediately.
‘But why does he want to go together?’
Could Sawada be receiving a commendation in Gyeongseong too?
Thinking about it, that made sense. Had he not run around Gyeongseong trying to catch Baekbaekgyo?
Then there was his flood preparedness, recovery support, and now the credit for eliminating the Baekbaekgyo remnants that Han San had shared with him.
This was enough accumulation to break through Inje Realm’s Great Completion, where he had been stuck for so long, and reach the middle stage of Chuncheon Realm.
‘This guy who could never get promoted has come so far...’
Han San felt a swell of pride. He wanted to stick an [I Raised Him] label beside Sawada’s rank insignia, along with a picture of himself as the grower.
Sawada found Han San vaguely unpleasant, but sunset was drawing near, as Han San had said. He left without questioning him further.
Han San remained alone.
After dealing with a few more matters, sunset truly spread across the world. Han San stretched as he looked around Sebeom Valley, dyed in the warm glow of a stove fire.
“Mother, I’m going for a walk.”
“Go on, then.”
Han San left the house.
He had no particular destination. He simply walked wherever his feet took him, through the village he had saved.
He checked on Lower Hamlet, which was still being repaired. He looked across at Yun Cheom-ji’s house, where Baechil’s mother went in and out carrying herbal medicine. He walked around the hodgepodge altar.
At last, his steps stopped before the Seonangdang shrine tree.
The tree he had always looked upon with helplessness in his previous life.
Han San quietly looked at the tree where he had first encountered Old Woman Wangdae in this life.
The one-won banknote he had nailed into it remained lodged in the center of the trunk.
There must have been a reason neither the devout people of Upper Hamlet nor the mischievous children of Middle Hamlet dared touch it.
“A king...”
The moment he murmured it, Han San noticed something.
A small palanquin sat beneath the one-won banknote.
“...”
Screeek.
With a sound like hide being cut by a dull knife, the palanquin’s curtain began to draw back.
It did not.
Screeek. Screeek.
Han San stared at the small figure buried in the curtain like a Western ghost, utterly unable to emerge.
“Need help?”
The screeching turned into nodding, and Han San drew back the curtain for the figure.
A waft of injeolmi[5] dough mingled with the milky scent particular to small children.
“How presumptuous!”
Wrapped in that smell like a veil, a black figure crawled out of the palanquin.
“You touched the king’s beast!”
A small child appeared before Han San.
“Mr. Hunter!”
The child had especially plump cheeks, dabbed with rouge on both sides, and wore rainbow-colored clothes.
The young shaman, who had conducted Upper Hamlet’s rites while Old Woman Wangdae wandered outside and had remained shut inside the shamanic shrine ever since the Great Flood, had revealed herself.
“Now that the old woman is gone, I am the new king’s shamaness! I am not an old woman because I am not old, and not a mother because I have not carried a child!
“Mr. Hunter, you must call me Lady Wangdae, like everyone else!”
Han San watched her silently, then reached out.
A moment later.
Squelch! The young shaman’s chubby cheek was pulled.
“Gyaaaah!?”
Footnotes:
[1] An assistant forest warden was a subordinate, often contract-appointed forest-surveillance post under the colonial forestry administration.
[2] Baekbaekgyo was a Korean syncretic religious movement founded in the early twentieth century.
[3] Do-yusa was an administrative title used within Baekbaekgyo.
[4] Burakumin were a historically marginalized hereditary outcaste group in Japan.
[5] Injeolmi is a Korean rice cake made from pounded glutinous rice, commonly coated in soybean powder.
Han San’s grandiose explanation plays on his name: “han” can suggest something great or whole, while “san” means mountain.
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