When I told her I wanted to talk to her, the Tower master stared at me. After about a minute, she finally nodded. 0

“Okay. Follow me. This way.”0

So I followed.0

Old hanoks[1] lined up the sloping alley. They didn’t look as neat as those that could be found in hanok villages[2]. Weeds were eating away the old roof tiles. The remainder of stone walls, which had already crumbled down long ago, had never been repaired despite bearing proof of the passage of time.0

What kind of hanoks are these?0

I felt a sense of disharmony and was just about to voice my confusion.0

“These hanoks were built during the Japanese colonial period,” the Tower master said in a quiet voice as she continued walking. “When the war broke out, this city was wiped out almost immediately. Because of that, traces of the past are more intact here than in other places.”0

“War?”0

“I’m talking about the Korean War. These houses missed destruction by pure luck.”0

The smell of stale water came from the sewers. I felt watched by the row of the hanoks, whose owners had nothing but a long family tree. Rather than looking classy, they resembled a face covered in age spots. We walked along a crumbling stone wall,...1