Chapter 27: A New Companion

“You want to live, right?”

Then, the middle-aged woman asked in a level voice. Yeosu pressed her lips together at the question. ‘Live… That’s what Cheche said.’

“Then you should ride. What’s lost never comes back.”

Why did those words hit her so hard? Yeosu bit her lip hard and moved forward one step at a time. Even as she climbed into the cargo bed, her gaze was fixed behind her.

“My coat is under that can. It’s thin, but it’ll still cover your body,” Shalbi said, looking back at Yeosu. It looked like a pair with the black leather pants she was wearing.

Yeosu reluctantly put on the coat. The coat, which reached Shalbi’s waist, came down to Yeosu’s hips.

Shalbi burst into laughter when she saw it, but Yeosu didn’t find that laughter as unpleasant as the laughter of the children who used to tease her by calling her Kuchanti.

A moment later, with a loud engine sound, the two-wheeled vehicle started. The rain that had been stinging Yeosu’s injured cheek stopped. Instead, she hugged her knees and buried her face in them inside the rattling cargo bed, exposed to the chilly wind.

‘Li-ve…’

Tears dripped down her bony knees. No matter how much she closed her eyes, the scene from then was vivid. The overwhelming guilt of being the only one who survived again caused sobs to erupt from her chapped lips.

She wished her mother’s body had sunk into the ground by now. So that Cheche wouldn’t have to see her daughter’s face, leaving her side, even in a nightmare.

“Whew, I think we’re almost there?”

Shalbi dismounted from the saddle and took off her hat. After riding until the sky cleared, her hair, which had been neatly tied in two braids, was damp with rain and sweat. It felt incredibly sticky.

Shalbi’s mother, Tama, who had been driving until now, surveyed their surroundings, comparing her map with the map on the back of the flyer.

Shalbi stretched, and her stomach rumbled just in time. She mumbled, “I’m hungry…” like a sleepy child, then rummaged through her bag and pulled out a ‘lump’ with pieces of grass embedded in it.

It was a food mainly eaten by registered individuals living in lower residential areas. It was made by dissolving an unknown edible plant powder in water, adding weeds, and steaming the mixture over fire.

It tasted literally like nothing, and sometimes, depending on luck, if the weeds were bitter, it could make one frown. So the price was cheap, and it was commonly found everywhere in the lower residential areas.

Therefore, Shalbi, being unregistered, could pick it up without much difficulty. It wasn’t as good as proper bread, but it was certainly better than stone cookies, wasn’t it? Moreover, it could satisfy hunger.

But Shalbi, inadvertently looking back at the cargo bed, had no choice but to close her mouth, which she had opened wide to bite into the lump. A child, looking much hungrier than herself, was clutching her stomach and groaning.

“Tama! Tama!”

Shalbi urgently called her mother. Tama hastily folded the map and checked Yeosu’s condition.

“Ugh, ugh…”

Sweat poured down Yeosu’s forehead like rain. Yet, if she touched her forehead, there was no fever. Tama checked the area where Yeosu was in pain. It was precisely her upper abdomen.

She had a hunch. The child who had walked alone in the rain had sunken cheeks, as if she hadn’t eaten for days. It was unlikely she had eaten anything in the wilderness, where there was nothing but sand and stones. If she had been fasting for a long time…

“Her stomach has weakened. When this happens, you have to feed her something soft.”

Tama rummaged through the cargo bed and took out a small water bottle. After pouring a little water into the cap, which served as a cup, she gestured towards the lump in Shalbi’s hand.

“Th-this? Will it be okay?”

“It’s fine. Just cut a little bit off the corner.”

“Okay.”

Shalbi handed Tama a piece of the lump, torn off to about two finger-lengths. Tama put it in water and let it swell. She shook the lid slightly, and soon the lump dissolved in the water like white dough.

Tama gently shook Yeosu’s shoulder.

“Child.”

“Ugh…”

Yeosu, who had been burying her face in her knees, opened her eyes and looked at Tama. She still thought it was pitch black night, but the sunlight was already shining on her forehead.

Yeosu stared blankly at the water bottle cap Tama was holding. Tama brought it to Yeosu’s lips, as if telling her to eat it.

Her stomach hurt. At the same time, she was incredibly hungry. She had completely forgotten she hadn’t eaten anything because her chest hurt. Her vision was dizzy. The bumpy road had ended, and the tension had eased, and now the pain she hadn’t felt before rushed in all at once.

“Ugh…”

Yeosu slowly swallowed what Tama gave her. She felt her aching stomach ease, even if just a little.

“Drink some water too.”

Tama frowned, watching Yeosu, who couldn’t even gulp down water. The small scratches all over her body caught her eye.

She vaguely guessed that she was a shelter child. But what in the world had happened there for her to be in this state without a guardian?

However, she was constantly wary and hunched her shoulders, making it difficult to ask for her story. For now, it was best to only ask necessary questions.

“The screening center is a little further east from here, child. You want to run the Human Run, don’t you?”

Yeosu, her stomach soothed, recalled her situation. She had climbed into the cargo bed hoping her mother wouldn’t be found, and arrived right in front of the screening center. But she had never once thought she wanted to participate in the Human Run.

At first, she didn’t want to be separated from her mother, and now…

‘What was it?’

She didn’t know. Why. But now, even if she knew, it would feel useless.

Yeosu got out of the cargo bed. And unconsciously, she dropped the flyer she had been clutching onto the ground. Her eyes looked into the air, as if she would soon depart. It was the opposite direction from where the screening center was.

It was then. Suddenly, she felt a gaze. She turned her head, and Shalbi was staring intently at her, crumpling and straightening her hat. Her lips, gathered in waves, looked just like a disgruntled three-year-old’s.

“You… you! You’re too small! You’re skinny! To run with that body, a strong kid like me would have to help you!”

It was a statement that could be either an insult or concern. But for some reason, Yeosu didn’t find that voice unpleasant.

Usually, children that tall, absorbed in their own strength, would tease Yeosu more aggressively. But this was more like…

“You! You don’t have a cool guardian like our Tama, do you? That’s why you were alone in that empty field! And you’re going to be alone again?”

“…”

“I’m sorry, but! I’m going to the screening center. It’s close, but I’m 14! And Tama, Tama is…”

Tears welled up in Shalbi’s eyes and spilled over. Yeosu, who had been staring blankly, flinched. Shalbi, as if trying to hold back her overwhelming emotions, sniffled.

“Tama got sick. So she can’t take you. Mom needs to rest. She can’t be a guardian anymore. She’s too… too tired.”

Was that the story? The reason Tama wanted to send Shalbi to the screening center. She couldn’t leave Shalbi, who was just a child, alone in a lawless land. Especially if she was unregistered.

Yeosu understood Shalbi’s words based on the conversation Cheche and Researcher 38 had. But they didn’t sink in. Everything was just blurry, as if in a fog.

“Hey. Why don’t you just come to the screening center with me? If you pass the screening, you can enter the stables. You can get nutrition there and rest. For the first time in a long time.”

‘Rest…’ Yeosu didn’t particularly want to rest. Her dull, clouded eyes negated everything Shalbi said. It was like looking at a scrap metal doll without emotions.

However, Shalbi thought that face resembled her own present self. Perhaps it was because she had felt that way from the beginning that she had risked it and stopped for a moment in the rain.

“The only way for unregistered minors like us to survive, unfortunately, is this, isn’t it?”

Shalbi let out a hollow laugh and shook the flyer in her hand. This seemed to be Shalbi’s true feeling, more than the words about getting nutrition and rest.

Yeosu looked down at the flyer that had fallen at her feet. Cheche had once said that going here was the only way for Yeosu to be well.

Her mother’s words must have been true. Even seeking help from that old man…

Yeosu picked up the flyer she had dropped. The screening center in front of her had not yet been closed. But there was no time. Because soon, this place too…

Bang, bang, bang!

For a moment, Yeosu’s shoulders flinched violently as if gunshots were heard nearby. Reality rushed in before her eyes.