Somewhere out on the bay, a hoarse metallic voice wraned ships away from rocks shrouded by gathering fog. The taxi came muttering down the lonely street, prowling for a last fare before seeking out its den. The new driver was puzzled, but glad enough for a rich fare, so he took them to a section of the city where many Koreans lived and left them there. He did wonder why foreigners should deliverately seek out the Chosen-jin; criminals usually went in search of their victims, not the other way around.

1965.