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CHAPTER 10
Choi-hee clearly remembered that day nine years ago.
It was a hot August afternoon filled with the sound of cicadas.
“Father, don’t stop anywhere today. Come straight home after work.”
“Alright, Choi-hee.”
“There’s a bakery in Sajik-dong, right? They said they started selling a Japanese-style bread called castella. It looks so fluffy—I really want to try it, Father.”
“Alright, my daughter. I’ll buy some on the way back.”
“And you must come straight home without stopping anywhere, okay?”
Choi-hee clung to her father’s sleeve as he was about to leave, insisting repeatedly. It wasn’t really about the bread—it was about wanting him to come straight home.
As a translator, her father had frequently been involved in state affairs over the past few years.
Coming home late was common, and sometimes he would be gone for days without her seeing his face.
At her repeated urging, her father, Seong Jung-bok, laughed heartily, messed up her hair, and left the house, promising to see her in the evening.
But the ones who came home that evening were not her father.
They were Japanese police officers.
“Here it is. Search it! Seong Jung-bok may be hiding here.”
“Are you his son?”
“I am. What is going on?”
Without any explanation, the Japanese police stormed into the house and began tearing it apart.
Startled, Chi-hoon rushed into the yard and demanded answers. Choi-hee and their mother stood trembling behind him, forced to watch.
One of the officers grabbed Chi-hoon by the collar.
“You really don’t know what your father has done?”
“What exactly happened—”
“Your father stole classified information about the annexation treaty before it was even finalized! You filthy Joseon traitor!”
The officer kicked Chi-hoon hard in the chest.
“Ugh!”
“Brother!”
“Son!”
Choi-hee and her mother screamed and rushed to support him. Tears were already filling their eyes.
“Search everything!”
Ignoring the family on the ground, the police ransacked the house—but of course, there was no sign of her father.
Unable to find him, they set the house on fire in rage.
As the three of them cried helplessly watching their home burn, the officer left them with a cold warning:
“You should be grateful this is before annexation—there’s no arrest authority yet. If you’re hiding Seong Jung-bok, I’ll kill all of you.”
But as they said, there was no way to hide him.
Because after that day, her father never returned.
Not a single letter. Not a single word.
He had abandoned his family and disappeared.
The castella she had so desperately wanted to eat… she never got to taste it.
“Don’t worry, Choi-hee. Your brother will take care of this family.”
Chi-hoon said this firmly, trying to comfort her as she panicked.
Their house had burned down, and the three of them were now practically homeless.
But what Choi-hee feared wasn’t money.
“Brother, promise me. Promise you’ll never abandon us like Father did.”
“Of course, Choi-hee. How could I ever abandon my family?”
“And you must avoid dangerous things. I heard there are people opposing the Japan-Korea annexation treaty. Don’t get involved with those idealists.”
“Choi-hee—”
“You promised, brother! Independence movements are for people who have nothing left to lose! If you get caught by the police, I could lose you too!”
She clung to his clothes and cried desperately.
Her world had already collapsed when her father left under the guise of independence activism.
The only thing keeping her from despair was her mother and her brother.
If she lost them too, she wouldn’t be able to survive.
“…Alright, Choi-hee. I promise.”
Chi-hoon held her tightly as she cried.
He swore he would never abandon the family for dangerous work again.
So when she later smelled gunpowder on his hands… she chose to ignore it.
“The one who bombed the police station… was your brother, Seong Chi-hoon.”
At Do-woon’s words, it felt as if Choi-hee’s heart dropped to her feet.
That couldn’t be.
Her brother would never have joined independence movements.
And yet, regardless of truth, she had to protect him.
He was the only family she had left.
She forced herself to stay composed. Her joined hands were drenched in sweat.
“That’s impossible. My brother would never do such a thing. He’s just a print worker at a publishing house.”
As expected, Do-woon calmly continued, stating facts she did not want to hear.
“Seong Chi-hoon collaborated with members of the militant independence group Uiyeoldan and threw an incendiary bomb at Jongno Police Station on the 10th of last month before fleeing. The police pursued them but failed to catch them.”
“It’s not my brother. It could be someone with the same name.”
“Do you remember the 10th of last month? The day we were on the same train. You must have met your brother before boarding.”
“T-that—”
“Have you seen him since then?”
Her words caught in her throat under his sharp questioning.
“There hasn’t been major coverage in Shinŭiju yet, but in Gyeongseong, there are already leaflets being distributed to find your brother.”
She felt a chill run down her neck.
The police were searching for him.
If what this man said was true, then fortunately, her brother had not been caught yet.
“Why are you telling me this?”
Do-woon paused briefly, as if giving her time to process, then continued.
“I simply want to tell you that you now have two choices.”
“….”
“You can join the English gathering and help me gather information, or I can tell the Japanese that ‘the family of the fugitive they are searching for is here.’”
“Is that a threat?”
At her words, Do-woon let out a low laugh and removed his glasses.
With his sharp eyes finally revealed, she instinctively swallowed.
His voice turned colder than before.
“I’m disappointed you interpret it as a threat. There are only two options.”
The playful man from moments ago was gone.
He leaned back on the sofa, crossing his arms, staring down at her like a predator.
Ah.
So this was his real self.
Only then did she understand why his perfect smile had always felt slightly off.
This man was not a shameless womanizer or a lecher.
He was a dangerous predator that never let its chosen prey escape.
One that pretended to relax its surroundings from afar—then suddenly struck.
She realized she had fallen into a perfect trap.
“There’s only one real option.”
“I’m glad you see it that way.”
“I’ll join the English gathering and provide information as you want. But do not speak of my brother.”
“Of course. Ah, there is one more thing.”
Do-woon smiled—genuinely this time, as if a mask had been peeled away.
“It is a private gathering of business wives. Therefore, you must be my wife to enter.”
“Pardon?”
She widened her eyes in disbelief.
Not only spy work—but marriage?
He raised a hand calmly.
“She does not need to be a real wife. They only need to believe you are.”
“So… you want me to pretend to be your wife?”
“That is correct.”
Choi-hee laughed in disbelief.
From bad to worse.
She had a sinking feeling she was getting entangled in something dangerous.
Ignoring her reaction, Do-woon leaned forward slightly, eyes gleaming.
“Shall we begin by creating your false identity?”
Do-woon looked down at her flushed face.
When he mentioned her brother, she had turned deathly pale. Now, at the mention of being a fake wife, her face had turned red with anger.
As expected, pressure worked.
Of course, even if she refused, he had no intention of handing her over to the Japanese. Feeding a fellow Korean to them was unacceptable.
But she didn’t know that—so she had believed him without question.
Was it fear?
He had already noticed she disliked him.
The way she occasionally looked at him with disdain, the way she repeatedly called him “shameless.”
And now… she seemed to fear him as well.
He wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad.
Perhaps it was useful.
Fear would make information flow more quickly and accurately.
A faint discomfort lingered in his mind, but he dismissed it.
Now that he had an informant, only preparation remained.
“You should be introduced as someone who studied in Europe. The wives are all Japanese, so they will not welcome a Korean easily—especially one who has never left Joseon.”
“But I’ve never actually lived in Europe.”
“That doesn’t matter. They haven’t either. You only need to fabricate it convincingly. Think of Pride and Prejudice.”
She pouted slightly, muttering something about fiction versus reality, but did not argue further.
“You can say you studied in London since childhood and are fluent in English. Ah, we’ll also need a name. You can’t use your real one.”
“If I’m supposed to be educated abroad, a foreign name would work. I could even use my baptismal name.”
After considering a few options, they settled on “Lucia,” her baptismal name.
Do-woon also used his baptismal name “Michael” in business circles, so it matched.
“In two weeks, the next gathering will be held. We’ll prepare by then.”
“What kind of preparation?”
“I can’t send you in like this. I’ll teach you how to gather information.”
