In an age filled with violence and brutality, this is Kim Hoon's hardboiled portrait of the short, intense lives of young men. Unlike previous books that focus on chronicling the great hero's life from beginning to end, Kim Hoon narrows his lens to the moment Ahn Jung-geun assassinated Ito Hirobumi on October 26, 1909, and the brief days surrounding it, tracing the separate paths that led both Ahn and Ito to Harbin. Through this approach, Harbin vividly and dramatically reconstructs what were likely the most intense days of Ahn Jung-geun's life, charged with dramatic tension. Set in the twilight years of the late Joseon dynasty, the novel captures the burning resolve of young men who could not simply watch their homeland grow weaker, as well as the dark spirit of an age in which ordinary people, thrown bare-handed against the tides of history, were emptily crushed—all rendered in Kim Hoon's signature terse, hardboiled prose. Against this tragic backdrop, the great cause Ahn Jung-geun pursues and the very human fear he feels are thrown into sharper relief. Even as he risks his own life and the lives of others for the sake of peace in the East, he is repeatedly gripped by hesitation—as the eldest son of his family, the head of a household, and a baptized Catholic. This rarely explored, deeply human side of Ahn Jung-geun is one of the novel's most striking revelations. "At the far end of the world, Father Wilhelm was praying; at the opposite far end, Ito was stroking his white beard; and in the boundless plain between them, a vision of piled corpses rose from the ashes. The bodies connected the two extremes like stepping stones... Ahn Jung-geun held back the words: Father, will you remain here? (pp. 66–67)" The moment Ahn Jung-geun resolves to assassinate Ito is charged with the tremor of chance and fate intertwining. While drifting through Gando and the Primorsky region, tormented by a bleak future, a scrap of newspaper finds its way to Ahn's lodging house. On it is a photograph—cunningly staged by Resident-General Ito to demean the status of the Korean Empire and flaunt Japanese imperial power—of Emperor Sunjong. Sensing the ambitions of Japanese imperialism hidden within the image, Ahn immediately makes up his mind and sets out on the final journey of his life, toward Harbin, where Ito is expected to visit. Ahn goes at once to find his comrade-in-arms Woo Deok-sun, who, upon seeing Ahn, immediately grasps his intent and agrees without hesitation to join him. The unhesitating union of purpose between these two young men, sharing the same goal, is conveyed through spare, powerful dialogue that leaves a lasting impression. "'So you'll shoot Ito with the bullets left over from shooting pheasants.' Woo Deok-sun laughed without a sound, the smile spreading faintly across his face. 'It's absurd, but that's how it turned out. Aiming and firing is the same either way, isn't it?' 'Have you fired a gun much?' 'Not much. I'm no hunter, but Ito is bigger than a pheasant, so it shouldn't be hard.' Ahn Jung-geun laughed aloud. 'That's true. That's true. I thought Ito's frame was too small, and that it would be difficult.' 'That's not a good way to think.' The two men looked at each other and laughed—a faint laughter, its final notes swallowed by the dark. (p. 115)" The interrogation records and trial transcripts left behind by Japanese prosecutors and judges who investigated Ahn Jung-geun and his companions after the assassination are also skillfully woven into the novel, heightening its sense of authenticity. Reading the tragedy of human affairs beneath the surface of starkly formal official documents is one of Kim Hoon's great talents. These documents, seemingly dry at first glance, are placed with such precision within the novel's narrative that they are transformed into searing records bearing witness to the burning reality of that era. "'Did you act on Ahn's orders?' 'No. I have no obligation to take orders from Ahn. And even if I did have such an obligation, this is not something that could be done on orders. I acted from my own heart.' 'Duke Ito is a high official with many attendants and guards. Did you believe you could succeed in assassinating him?' 'That depends solely on a person's resolve. I believed that if one's resolve is firm, success is possible no matter how heavy the guard.' (p. 232)" These testimonies are drawn so tautly that they leave no room for fictional embellishment, and the answers given by Ahn Jung-geun and Woo Deok-sun are so simple and precise that they admit no other interpretation. In these records, Kim Hoon reads the unrestrained language of youth—spoken not for advantage or disadvantage, but solely to declare one's own convictions. It is the voice of those who, believing in what is right, acted...