I Regressed and Became Too Good at Brewing - Chapter 59

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Episode 59. The Difference Between Memory and Recollection (2)
※ The characters and situations in this work are fictional.
“Are we really allowed to just show up like this without warning?”
Se-jun asked the question even as I turned the steering wheel for a left turn.
He’d been asking it the whole way here.
“It’s not like I didn’t reach out. He just didn’t answer.”
I’d called dozens of times using the contact information Yun Ju-ho had given me.
He hadn’t picked up a single call.
Since I couldn’t wait indefinitely, I’d decided to leave right away—that’s why I’d made up my mind to go.
“Still… I’m not sure it’s right to show up like this to someone who’s given up brewing alcohol.”
Se-jun had a point.
From what I’d heard, the man named Kim Si-woo had already given up making Samhaejiu last year.
Se-jun was worried it would be rude to barge in on someone who’d abandoned his dream and ask him about how to brew Samhaejiu.
But my thoughts were different.
“Do you really think he gave up?”
“What do you mean?”
“Doesn’t it seem strange? His father was a master craftsman who brewed Samhaejiu. How could he just give it up?”
Yes, that was the strange part.
Usually there are two main reasons people abandon brewing.
One is when they refuse to carry on the tradition itself.
Actually, it’s hard to even call that giving up.
It’s just deciding to live your own life—it’s not abandoning something you had to do.
Sure, people who love that alcohol would be disappointed, but everyone has their own values.
“And the other reason is when restoration fails.”
This was especially common in traditional Korean alcohol.
Unlike other spirits, most records of Korea’s traditional alcohols were lost during the Japanese Colonial Period.
Even when records survived, there were almost no master craftsmen who could actually brew the alcohol.
So most of the traditional alcohol on the market today can be said to be the result of restoration.
Restoration is done by many different people.
Private distillery owners, master craftsmen who carried on family traditions, even national government projects.
Take the very first spirit made at Songhada—Nokpajuju, which Grandfather spent his whole life restoring.
“But let me tell you, it’s not an easy undertaking.”
Like I said, restoring a spirit whose records and secret transmissions have been lost is nearly impossible.
You have to find your way forward using your own senses and nothing but the thinnest threads of clues.
It’s a difficult path.
Because of this, many distillery owners give up during the process.
“Right. But so what?”
“Don’t you see? If Kim Ee-eon’s father was a master craftsman, I looked it up just in case. And it was true.”
While the car was parked on the shoulder, I pulled out the notebook I’d brought and showed Se-jun my search results.
There was a newspaper article I’d found displayed there.
[The Secret of the Year-Old Swine Day That Endured a Thousand Years… Master Craftsman Kim Si-woo Awakens Samhaejiu, the Renowned Wine of Joseon Nobility]
“Wait, that’s real?”
“I’m telling you. The restoration is already complete. He must have developed his own way of brewing it.”
As it turned out, Kim Si-woo, Ee-eon’s father, was indeed a remarkable man.
Samhaejiu had nearly died out completely as a result of the Japanese Colonial Period.
Yes, it had nearly died out.
When Princess Bok-on, daughter of King Sunjo of Joseon, married into the Andong Kim Clan, the imperial secret formula for making Samhaejiu was passed to the common people.
Passed down orally in secret from generation to generation this way, the Samhaejiu recipe survived the Japanese suppression and surveillance.
“Of course, it probably wasn’t perfect.”
“Obviously not. Even if you perfect a manual, the taste of alcohol changes dramatically with the weather and temperature.”
“Right. And that’s what Master Craftsman Kim Si-woo perfected.”
Master Craftsman Kim Si-woo, who inherited the name of the Andong Kim Clan.
He became fascinated with the Samhaejiu formula his mother possessed.
He even quit the large corporation he worked for and devoted his whole life to establishing Samhaejiu in the modern era.
“He put in that much effort, and he actually succeeded in the restoration. But…”
“But?”
“Now it’s gone.”
“What?”
No matter how much I thought about it, I couldn’t understand.
How could a recipe he’d worked so hard to restore simply vanish like this?
Even the Samhaejiu that Master Craftsman Kim Si-woo had brewed was actually sold at one point.
But now, the Samhaejiu bearing his name has vanished without a trace.
“Going there directly is because of this.”
“So you’re saying this doesn’t feel like a simple abandonment?”
“Right. The way I see it, there’s definitely something more to it.”
It wasn’t some grand ambition on my part.
Just a sense of loss.
That a fine spirit had disappeared.
And that the memories of all those people contained within that fine spirit would vanish too.
“That’s so like you, Yeon-woo.”
“What is?”
“You basically just want there to be more delicious alcohol in the world, don’t you?”
“Well, that’s true. Oh, I think this is it?”
The sky had already darkened from our hurried departure.
Only the streetlights lining the road illuminated the empty streets.
Se-jun glided past them and pulled the car into a decent spot.
“This is the right place?”
“The address Representative Yun Ju-ho gave us should be right here…”
“It’s awfully desolate though. And if it’s a brewery, there should be lights on even now.”
Se-jun tilted his head in confusion.
He had a point.
Ordinarily, breweries need to constantly check the Fermentation Rooms to monitor the fermenting spirits boiling over.
Even with CCTV, there’s no way to monitor each individual onggi vessel.
Besides, to catch the faint sound of spirits bubbling, a night watch was essential.
Songhada was no different.
“It’s absolute silence here.”
But what about this place now?
The address Representative Yun Ju-ho had given us—Bukchon in Jongno-gu, Seoul.
It was located in a somewhat remote corner of what was commonly called Changdeokgung-gil.
Not being during the spring and autumn festivals held every year or the palace night tours, the street was already sparse and quiet.
Only Se-jun and I were here at this moment.
“There’s something eerie about this…”
“Really…”
Far in the distance, a broken streetlight flickered and blinked.
As if something lay beneath it.
Every horror movie sequence I’d ever seen in my life flashed through my mind.
Only after taking a deep breath could I calm myself enough to speak.
“The address… this should be it. From what I looked up earlier, Master Craftsman Kim Si-woo brewed here too.”
“But why would it be here?”
“Apparently he originally worked in Bukchon before relocating here.”
Likely to promote Samhaejiu more widely.
This location would have been perfect for letting domestic and foreign visitors taste and experience it.
“Even though it’s like this now…”
“Should we go in? This is the place, right?”
“Yeah, this is it.”
The lights were all off so it was hard to see, but as we drew closer, I could make out a nameplate hanging there.
Samhae Distillery House.
“Samhae Distillery…”
“He apparently even did the distillation using the traditional alembic method.”
“That sounds promising.”
“Though there’s nothing here now.”
The more I thought about it, the more deeply regrettable it all seemed.
But what could be done?
The damage was already done.
And that’s precisely why Se-jun and I had come all the way out here, to try to undo it.
“Are you here? Manager Kim Ee-eon?”
“Are you there?”
I called out several times, but there was no response.
Just my voice scattering and fading into the dark night sky overhead.
It was at that moment, with growing frustration, that I placed my hand on the firmly shut iron gate.
Whiiiiing~
A cool breeze drifting from somewhere.
At the prickling sensation that ran down my spine and stood the hairs on the back of my neck on end, my eyes snapped open.
That must have been why.
Beyond the iron gates, deep inside where the Samhaejiu sat, in that darkness so profound it seemed to swallow light itself, something alien flickered in the shadows.
“Um… over there… something…”
“Christ. Why are you being so creepy? Yeon-woo…”
Before I could get the words out properly, Se-jun was already brushing frantically at his shoulders, his lips trembling.
Right.
For his build, the guy was surprisingly easy to scare.
I couldn’t see it in the dark, but his lips were probably drained white with fear by now.
So the only reason he was still here was loyalty to me and curiosity about the Samhaejiu.
“If it’s too much, you can head inside. Want to wait in the car?”
“No! Who… who said it’s too much! I haven’t even lifted anything heavy!”
“You hate anything scary though.”
“I… I’m not scared at all, okay? You think I’m chickening out?”
He’d never actually said that before.
Leaving Se-jun behind as he overcompensated about his courage, I turned my gaze back to where something had rippled moments earlier.
I’m certain of it.
There’s something there.
“No, there’s definitely something over there.”
“There’s nothing there, I’m telling you!”
“If it was someone of Kim Si-woo’s caliber as a Master Craftsman…”
A person deserving the very title of Master Craftsman.
There’s no way liquor crafted by such hands could be tasteless.
And especially since his roots ran deep in the Andong Kim Clan, tradition itself.
When my thoughts reached this point, something suddenly came to mind.
“A goblin…”
A Distillery where spirits were crafted over long generations, and moreover shaped by the hands of a skilled Master Craftsman.
There’s no way a goblin wouldn’t haunt such a place.
“What? Hey! Goblins don’t exist in… in the world!”
“Oh.”
I should have kept that thought to myself.
The price of stirring up Se-jun when he was already wracked with fear proved steep indeed.
Whether it was because of his size or because he was genuinely frightened, his voice had begun rising steadily.
It grew louder and louder.
“If goblins exist, right? Then they’d have to be composed of particles too, which means they’re made of energy and follow the laws of physics, so they’d be subject to gravity…”
“Why are you suddenly bringing that up…”
“Anyway, that’s why goblins and ghosts and all that don’t exist! They don’t! They can’t!”
Whiiiiing~
The wind swept in again the moment Se-jun finished speaking.
When I closed my eyes against the dust it carried and opened them again, the form that had been rippling beneath the shadows was long gone.
Where was it?
Where did it go?
“S… so since there’s no one around now, shouldn’t we just head back?”
“Now?”
“Y… yeah! It’s getting late anyway, we can’t stay here forever. Besides, maybe someone’s sleeping inside…”
“You just said it seemed like there was no one around.”
He was rambling in fear, yes, but his words were oddly accurate.
Whether or not there was someone inside, in a situation like this, an encounter would be difficult.
I decided it would be better to leave the Distillery to Ha-jeong’s discretion and find lodging nearby for the night, then return tomorrow.
“All right. Let’s do that then. Are there inns around here?”
“I already scouted them all!”
“That was quick…”
“I’m good at my job usually!”
Though it seemed several times faster than usual, I decided to let it slide.
Even as Se-jun chattered away beside me about which lodging we should choose, my mind was wholly fixed on the Samhaejiu Distillery.
It was definitely a goblin.
Song-ha, Mok-tong, Hyo-gi.
And meeting Bun-i and Hwang-gu had taught me to recognize that faint, distinctive scent goblins left behind—a scent like sake that now drifted through the air.
That’s right. There’s no reason we can’t come back another time.
It was in that moment, turning to leave, that it happened.
“Ha ha! What goblin? There’s no such thing! None! If there were, I’d stake my reputation on it!”

“Huh? Yeon-woo. Did you just say something?”
There was no way that could be true.
Yet I couldn’t answer him.
Because I saw it clearly.
Skeletal fingers, little more than bone, gripping the iron bars of the Samhaejiu storage room.
A man’s face, eyes bloodshot and veins bulging, teeth grinding together with a sound like cracking stone.

Glaring at Se-jun, consumed by rage.