"I won't live like my father! I won't live in this poverty! I won't bow to landlords! Incompetence is a curse — and I refuse to pass poverty down to my sons like my father did!"
The words pierced my father's heart like nails.
But this was the only way I could break free.
'I'm sorry… I really am. But I can't live like this anymore.'
If I stayed here, I'd eventually be drafted — conscripted to fight in some distant war I don't believe in. Maybe in Saipan, maybe in Manchuria… maybe I'd die nameless.
That's not living — that's waiting for death.
"You… what did you just say? You little bastard!"
"Even if I have to beg, I'll go to Gyeongseong! I'd rather live like a beggar in Seoul than die in this field!"
Bang!
My father, furious beyond words, grabbed the wooden pillow beside him and hurled it at me.
I could have dodged.
But I didn't.
Thud!
"Ugh…" Blood dripped down my forehead.
"Damn it, why didn't you dodge?!" he shouted, panic cutting through his anger. Beneath his rage was worry — because that's what fathers are.
Even after all this, I knew he still loved me.
"I'm leaving for Gyeongseong. Today."
"This… damn…!"
"I'll succeed. I'll become someone whose name the whole world will know."
My father clenched his fists, trembling. "That damned fool…"
I was fifteen.
And that day, I ran away from home — leaving behind my tears and my past.
March 18, 1940 — Morning
Two weeks after running away penniless, riding freight trains, and walking endless roads, I finally arrived in Gyeongseong.
The journey was hell.My clothes were rags. My face was dirty. I looked no different from a beggar.
'Yeah, I really am that bastard, Father… but I had to be.'
It's 1940 — an age when kindness dies first.To survive, one must be poisonous.
This isn't a time of opportunity.This is a time when people are crushed — and the strong take everything.
But I refuse to die nameless in a field.
'Let's start with Jongno. That's where opportunity lies.'
Even in Gyeongseong, Jongno and Myeongdong are the heart of commerce — the place where money moves.
I headed straight to Jongno.
Liberation is only five years away.When that day comes, chaos will follow — and chaos breeds opportunity.
'Yes… I can do it. I have the memories of the future.'
Now is the time to move.To live.To rise.
But reality hit me hard.
The Jongno before me was nothing like the one I remembered.Dusty streets, wooden shops, faces filled with hunger and despair.
'Damn it…'
I had nothing — not even a place to start. Should I shine shoes? Pull a rickshaw? Join the Jongno gang? Anything to survive.
Even rickshaw jobs were scarce. Competition was brutal.
"There's not a single hill to climb…" I muttered.
Still, I couldn't give up.
And then —
"Kyaaa!"
A scream echoed from an alley up ahead.
Two girls in school uniforms were surrounded by a gang of young thugs.One wore a simple hanbok jacket, the other a sleek Western-style suit.
'Rich… she looks rich.'
Maybe this was fate — my first real chance.
Five thugs, one me. Not good odds.But something caught my eye — translucent words floated above their heads.
[Occupation: ???]
All five of them.
'What the hell? Are they hiding their jobs?'
The same strange feeling I had when I saw Mr. Choi — the "kind" man who turned out to be a Japanese spy — washed over me.
Something was wrong here.
"Get away! Do you even know who you're touching?" the maid shouted.
Smack!
The thug slapped her hard across the face.
They were confident. Too confident.
'That's strange… This is Jongno. Kim Du-han's territory. No Japanese punks would dare cause trouble here.'
But these weren't normal punks.
'There's something I don't know… something hidden here.'
The girl screamed again. The thug hesitated for just a second — guilt flashing across his face.
'Strange… all of it's strange.'
My heart pounded.
'I could die doing this. But maybe… maybe this is my hill to climb.'
The girl's father had to be rich — I could see it in the words above her head.
'No turning back now.'
I clenched my teeth. Courage — that was all I had left.
"おい, この畜生野?! (Hey, you bastards!)"
I shouted in Japanese, loud enough to echo through the alley.
Five pairs of eyes turned to me, sharp and cold.Their faces were twisted — the faces of people who'd killed before.
'Yeah… this is bad.'
Still, I took another step forward.
If I die, I die.
[You are immortal.]
The divine message echoed in my mind.
'Let's see if that's really true.'
I charged forward, fearless.
English and Korean are not my first languages, so I'm doing my best to write and share this story with you.Thank you so much for reading and supporting the novel — your feedback and comm mean the world to me! 🙏