In the face of the propaganda, a contraband culture spread. South Korean films and dramas circulated on USB drives smuggled from China. In Kangryong, the devices also arrived inside plastic bottles released by South Korean activists across the water, along with rice and mini-Bibles. Officials warned the bottles contained poison, but South Korean entertainment was winning.
Il-hyeok idolized K-pop groups like Girls’ Generation and styled his hair in a mohawk like BigBang’s Taeyang. He was arrested for “capitalist delinquency” and released only after paying a bribe, his hair razored. He and his friends once secretly watched “Valkyrie,” the Tom Cruise film about the plot to kill Hitler. When the conspirators failed and were executed, his friends wept.
The brothers’ notion of deserting North Korea felt just as perilous. Their father forbade them from marrying, reasoning that the larger the family, the greater the risk of being caught while defecting. He then used connections to transfer Yi-hyeok, his youngest, to Kangryong, where he learned navigation, mapped guard posts, and cultivated ties with officials. Yi-hyeok became a helmet diver, who harvests seafood from the ocean floor, breathing fresh air piped through a surface hose. He eventually met Yu-mi.
Il-hyeok worked in North Korea’s shadow economy, bribing his way into opportunity and out of trouble. He butchered animals for restaurants, ran a small gold mine and bought rice stolen from state granaries, reselling it at a profit. He also grew disillusioned with the system he was gaming.
Then, in 2014, their father died unexpectedly. The South Korean dream seemed to die with him.
Where Il-hyeok, the older brother, was restless, Yi-hyeok was steady. He married Yu-mi in 2017, and the couple soon had their two children. He joined a military-run fisheries company, operating three vessels. Despite a United Nations ban, Chinese buyers worked openly in Kangryong, and on a good day Yi-hyeok could earn more than a typical worker’s annual salary.