Koreans have long known a secret about surviving the summer: fight heat with fear. For decades, the arrival of the monsoon season meant horror specials on Korean television, ghost stories and horror anthologies programmed precisely when tropical nights made sleep impossible. The logic, half science and half folklore, holds that a good shiver down the spine cools the body better than any electric fan. The tradition survives today in summer horror film releases and haunted house pop-ups that appear across Seoul every July. But for readers of English, there is now an alternate route to that seasonal chill, one that does not involve jump scares or formulaic slasher plots. Korean horror and crime fiction has quietly become one of the fastest-growing corners of translated literature, with a shelf of novels that trade cheap thrills for something colder and more lasting. The timing invites comparison with Japan. English-language publishers have spent the past decade riding a wave of translated Japanese mysteries, from Seishi Yokomizo's classic locked-room puzzles to Yukito Ayatsuji's "The Decago