The man, feeling regretful, noticed the young man about to leave and hurried to the counter. He thought he shouldn’t keep him waiting too long and wanted to buy the books quickly and follow him.

But at that moment, the man realized this reality was not a dream. He still had no money.

“…”

Standing dazed and motionless for a long time, the young man approached him with a puzzled look. The man turned to him with a bleak expression.

“What’s wrong?”

“… I just realized that today I was pickpocketed and have been wandering around worrying about what to do… I have no money…”

The man muttered gloomily, his face hardened. The young man looked at him sympathetically. The problem had returned to square one. The man had no money. Although he held treasures in his arms, he had no way to truly make those treasures his own. At this rate, he thought he would have to call James and tell him to cancel today’s schedule and come here immediately…

“If it’s okay, may I lend you some money? I can lend you as much as I have right now.”

He must have been an angel. The man nearly hugged the young man tightly. If it weren’t for the precious books in his arms, he would have tossed them aside and embraced the young man. But he composed himself again. The prices of these books were no joke. In fact, the combined value of all these books could easily buy a house in the countryside. Whether or not the young man ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) knew the man’s worries, he took a wallet out of his pocket, quietly approached the dozing old man at the counter, and gently woke him up. The old man blinked, recognized the young man, and seemed to have remembered his face from a few days ago.

The young man and the old man, who did not understand German and English respectively, started communicating through gestures and signs. They seemed very familiar with each other, as if this wasn’t their first meeting.

The man, feeling he might have to translate, approached, but by then the conversation was already over. The young man took a 50-euro bill from his wallet and handed it to the old man. The man flinched as he glanced back and forth between the young man, the 50 euros, and the old man. But the old man calmly accepted the money and even gave some change.

The young man smiled, bowed to the old man, and the old man smiled back with satisfied wrinkles on his face.

“Shall we go, then?”

The young man gestured for the man to follow and stepped ahead. The man looked bewildered as he glanced between the young man and the old man, then hurried to follow. The young man who first left the shop waited for the man to come out and then led the way. Holding his precious books, the man followed, eyes rolling in disbelief. Maybe all this was a dream after all. Treasures for just about 50 euros? That couldn’t be true.

“You really lucked out today,” the young man laughed, glancing back. He lifted his hat slightly, and the man realized he looked somewhat familiar. Then, before the man could speak, the young man continued.

“You seem to do this as a hobby. You don’t know if the books are valuable or not. A relative of mine passed away a few years ago, and their books came to this old man who runs this secondhand bookstore since they had nowhere else to go. It’s such a small town, and the books are all worn out, so hardly any customers come. The old man just treats it like a study to soak up sunlight during the day.”

“Ah…”

The man nodded, thinking how unfortunate that deceased relative must have been, who surely knew the value of the books. When he asked how the young man knew that, the young man cheerfully said that they had communicated through gestures, surprisingly well understood, and the man looked at him with amazement.

The lodging wasn’t far. It was a small guesthouse a couple of blocks away. Along the way, the man learned that the young man was traveling without a particular destination. The young man also learned about the man’s unlucky experience the previous night. He murmured that although pickpocketing was common in Italy, he hadn’t expected it even on a train crossing the border, and comforted the man.

The more the man saw, the more he thought the young man was a decent person. Pleasant personality, witty speech, and a wonderful hobby. In conversation, the young man didn’t seem to have deep knowledge about old books, just a fair amount of hearsay, but even that was uncommon. Having hobbies in common was the best way to become friends, and the man liked this young man right away.

When they reached the lodging, the young man told the man to wait a moment inside. He was gone longer than expected. It wasn’t actually that long, but it felt that way since he was coming out carrying a book. The man thought, “He’s late,” and waited. Then the door opened again, and the young man came out holding a book in one hand and a large sports bag in the other.

“Is this what you were looking for?”

The young man held out the book. The man’s eyes lit up as he accepted it.

“Pablo Aires! I have searched so desperately for this book!”

He exclaimed emotionally, holding his books in one hand and shaking the young man’s hand vigorously with the other.

“Thank you, thank you!”

“Ahaha, it’s nothing. Well, then…”

The young man looked at his watch and withdrew his hand. The man finally noticed the sports bag tucked under one of the young man’s arms.

“Looks like where you’re headed.”

“Yes, I hadn’t planned to stay long here, but I liked the quiet and peacefulness, so I ended up staying for ten days already. It’s unsettling to stay in one place too long, so I should move on.”

He didn’t understand why the young man felt uneasy about staying in one place for long, but thought everyone must have some kind of strange quirk.

The man regretted having to part from this young man, who he had come to like so much, and said sincerely:

“It’s a shame to part after meeting like this. If you ever come to Berlin later, please contact me. Your contact info is... ah, no business card, huh...”

Habitually, the man reached into his chest pocket but found it empty, then withdrew his hand regretfully. Suddenly, he remembered the 50 euros he had borrowed earlier.

“That’s right, the money! I should return the money you lent me for the books. If you give me your contact, I will definitely return it later.”

“Eh? Ah, contact... no, that’s okay. If we meet again someday, you can give it to me then.”

The young man looked a little embarrassed when asked for contact and shook his head. As he was about to refuse, the young man seemed to change his mind, murmured “Hmm,” and then said carefully:

“By the way, do you live in Berlin?”

“Ah? Yes, I live there. I’m on my way to Salzburg now, though.”

With no money at all, the man realized he wouldn’t be able to reach Salzburg anyway.

Thinking of James and his incessant nagging, he sighed, knowing he would have to call him. Then the young man murmured “Hmm,” thought a bit longer, and cautiously said:

“Salzburg is in the opposite direction, so that’s inconvenient, but I was just about to go toward Berlin. If it’s okay with you, you can come along.”

He added, “It’s a small two-seater Ritz, so it’s a bit cramped,” while pointing at a small car parked in the lot beside his house. The man’s eyes grew wide. Considering the nagging he would get from James, he was more than willing to give up Salzburg. Actually, if he called James, Salzburg would surely be off the table anyway.

The man carefully placed the precious books he had been clutching on the nearby mailbox. Then, grasping the young man’s hand firmly with both hands, he said:

“I gratefully accept your kindness. As a token of thanks—if you don’t yet have a place to stay in Berlin—please stay at my home and let me repay your kindness a little. My house is rather spacious for the number of residents, so it won’t be uncomfortable.”

The young man, a little taken aback by the polite request—or the tight grip—smiled awkwardly and nodded.

Sometimes, one truly realizes how much a person can become accustomed to their environment—and sometimes it is almost frightening.

When he first entered the officer academy, he spent a week barely eating or sleeping, rolling around in misery. He thought he was going to die. He barely ate. Although there was no shortage of food, his body grew frail, and naturally his stomach weakened, so he couldn’t eat well. Probably, like Jeong Tae-ui, there were many who felt like they had died and come back. When he later talked with his peers, that training was the topic that came up most often—both as a painful memory and something they missed.

But that training turned out to be a quarterly event. It was not a regular course. It was unofficial. Each season, they rolled over dust, under blazing sun, on asphalt, in snowfields, all sorts of places. He lost count of how much he cursed. The real hardship was the mind, not the body. How much their spirit was crushed in that absurd world where they had to obey nonsensical orders without question.

Then he graduated. Near graduation, the training became much more bearable. Perhaps because his stamina improved and he learned some tricks, but also because he had become somewhat accustomed.

That was at least better. If that is what becoming accustomed to something is, then there is nothing to complain about. What Jeong Tae-ui truly realized what it means to get used to an environment was when he joined the military.

After graduating from the officer academy, he was assigned as an officer to a unit stationed in the countryside. There were countless poor young men dragged in without choice under Jeong Tae-ui’s command. But he had no room to be arrogant toward them. Above him were many others. The military is a rare example of a strict hierarchical society. There was no such thing as refusal. If ordered to nod, you nodded; if told to lick, you licked.

There was a lieutenant, someone Jeong Tae-ui barely knew, just by name and face. That lieutenant was a bastard. The typical type who was weak to the strong and strong to the weak. On top of that, a filthy womanizer who boasted about visiting brothels every time he went out and bragged to his subordinates about the ‘special qualities’ of certain women and how great it felt to ‘warm up’ with them. He even tried to hit on subordinates he deemed ‘so-so.’

Among those ‘hit on’ by that bastard was someone Jeong Tae-ui knew. Saying ‘knew’ is a stretch—they had only exchanged a few words during marches. That young man was gentle-looking and weak in personality, the perfect target for that bastard.

Of course, that young man hated him. He was anxious about being found out, vomited several times, cried in corners, and even one of his peers once stopped him when he saw him trembling, holding a cutter to his wrist.

But it didn’t last long. Nearing discharge, the young man sometimes lazily clicked his tongue and went to that bastard when called, mixing himself with him. That bastard was dirty in his desires and even complained bitterly to close friends about it. Rumors said he even touched other juniors, though nobody knew if that was true.

That young man did not go down that path, though. After discharge, he graduated school normally and reportedly married early.

When drinking with peers, those stories came up. Jeong Tae-ui thought then: there is no such thing as not getting used to something. Even painful and hard things become familiar. While skill may vary, getting used to something itself doesn’t take much time.

“Maybe I’ve gotten too used to it…”

Jeong Tae-ui mumbled, staring blankly at the ceiling. Before he could finish, a cold voice spoke.

“Are you talking about how I upset you?”

Startled.

Jeong Tae-ui stopped stretching and curled the arm he had thrown onto the bed. Quietly, he got up and looked straight at the elderly woman standing by the door with impeccable posture.

“No… surely not, Rita.”

“The meal is ready. The young master is waiting, so please come. If the master fulfills his duties, I hope the guest fulfills theirs as well.”

The old woman spoke firmly and turned away. Her movements were slow, but so cold that the sound of the wind seemed to howl. Jeong Tae-ui scratched his head, and when the woman’s footsteps faded down the hall, he got up, went to the attached bathroom, washed his face, and looked up. Water streamed down his face in droplets. A familiar face. Well, it wouldn’t do to feel unfamiliar after decades together, even if only a few months had passed. He sighed. Yes, even after a few months, one can get used to something. He was feeling that now.

He had been at UNHRDO only a few months but had gotten used to that life to some degree. Upon waking, he immediately felt discomfort. The sound of the air conditioning softly heard through silence, the windowless room, the odorless air—things that had surrounded him for months had disappeared. The sunlight shining through the window now, the lively outside sounds, the faint smell of life in the air—these natural things felt strange. That was because he had grown accustomed to life at UNHRDO.

Wiping his wet face, Jeong Tae-ui thought, “That makes sense.” Yes, a few months is enough time to get used to something. Some get used to things in just a few days. This was exactly that.

He dreamed again. Every day he dreamed. Sometimes he didn’t dream, but those were days when he had no dreams. People say even when they think they didn’t dream, they actually do, only they don’t remember. So maybe Jeong Tae-ui dreamed every day without realizing.

The contents of the dreams were always different, but the person who appeared was always the same. Consistent as memories of past events.

…Ilay.

Jeong Tae-ui bitterly bit his tongue. He had sworn never to see him again—if he did, the ultimate disaster of his life would happen. Why ultimate? Because it wouldn’t be just a disaster (慘事) but a tragic death (慘死). He never expected to see him even in his dreams.

Yesterday, and even just minutes ago. He had already guessed as he went to bed last night but dreamed of Ilay again. At this rate, he would dream of him tonight and tomorrow too. Maybe it would last a lifetime; who knows how long.

Before sleeping, he prayed to someone unknown. If he was going to dream of that bastard, at least to see a somewhat human side of him—like him eating, or at a instructors’ meeting, or reading a book.

“Damn. Maybe I should pray again…”

Jeong Tae-ui muttered while brushing his teeth. Maybe his prayer was too effective because he dreamed of the most humanlike Ilay he had ever seen when he changed his perspective a bit. As he recalled the dream, he shuddered and spat the foam from his mouth.

Shaking his head, rinsing his mouth quickly, he recalled Rita’s words that the house owner was waiting. He hurried to change clothes. It was rude to keep the owner waiting for a meal while he was being taken care of.

…Though the owner probably didn’t care, chatting happily with other guests, holding appetizers.

Jeong Tae-ui quickened his steps toward the dining room.