“The condition for admission is just one thing: a written pledge that you’ve fully understood all the following terms. Then, those who intend to enter the Reeducation Center, please remain in line.”
Though there was some murmuring, people maintained order, filled out the pledge, and left the employment office following the guidance. Chris was one of them.
Though he was nervous while writing the pledge, no one questioned his identity. While waiting in line, Chris confirmed that his terminal was well-hidden and invisible, then boarded the vehicle brought by the center.
The interior was spacious and comfortable. The faces of the people were half mixed with anxiety and hope. Chris didn’t know what expression to make among them, so he just pulled his hat down low.
Conversation sounds could be heard from the back seats.
“You also got off in the November Continent.”
“Originally I was thinking of trying to go to the September Continent at least…”
The woman muttered lowly, “Because I could stow away that far,” and added.
“I heard that the November Continent’s Reeducation Center also helps with addiction treatment.”
The woman said, rolling her eyes.
‘Addiction treatment?’
Chris frowned. He was glad his face was hidden by the hat.
Northern Light headquarters had said that it was Yuri Sobolev’s organization that distributed drugs, yet the Reeducation Center he created helps with addiction treatment—it was completely unbelievable.
“That’s right. I heard that too.”
The man sighed deeply.
“Wh-what about you? I saw you talking to the employment office staff—why did you come to the Reeducation Center?”
“Actually, I needed quick money so I wanted to go with the employment office people when they left on the truck… but I’m tired of living day to day. If I can focus on education for just a few months and come out with at least one skill, I can live a bit more comfortably.”
Maybe I can even save money and perhaps settle down, the man added, his voice tinged with weariness.
Soon the two became quiet. It seemed everyone had boarded this vehicle with their own stories.
Separate from his distrust of the November Continent’s mafia, Chris found himself hoping that this Reeducation Center truly was a place that provided quality education.
The vehicle arrived at the Reeducation Center before long. Chris found it oddly fitting that he’d come to the Reeducation Center as recommended by the woman he’d met at the abandoned factory district.
“This quarter’s trainees.”
The staff member who’d received the stowaways’ pledges led them to a hall, introduced them to a center person who’d been waiting in advance, then they left outside. It seemed each area was clearly divided.
“Since it’s the first day, we’ll guide you through the center’s basic rules and facilities.”
A polite, if businesslike, staff member guided them through the cafeteria, dormitory, classrooms, and practice rooms. Chris moved while carefully drawing the structure in his mind.
After a roster was created, dormitory assignments came out.
The dormitory was structured for six people to share one room. As long as he wasn’t assigned with a roommate who snored, the environment itself looked comfortable. There was a communal shower room, and it seemed hot water was always available.
In some ways, it was better than the apartment he was currently staying in. After lights out, you couldn’t come and go, but basically, as long as you arrived on time for lectures, there was no particular sanction even if you didn’t return to the dormitory.
Since it would be good to stay in the dormitory to scout the center, Chris obediently confirmed his assigned room.
‘I won’t have time to read.’
Unpacking at the bottom of the bunk bed, Chris thought of the I-D-I-O-T piled up at home. To make an excuse to go to Magnolia, he’d have to read all the books he’d bought first, but there simply wasn’t time for that.
Carrying around a luxury item like a paper book at the Reeducation Center would inevitably draw attention. He’d moderately concealed his terminal when coming in. Since he’d manipulated it to only respond to emergency contacts, it would be ridiculous to pull up a hologram on the terminal just to read a book.
Chris clicked his tongue.
Since when had things outside of his mission been occupying his mind, making him think like this? He kept thinking about the bookshop owner on the edge of the shopping district rather than his target, Yuri Sobolev.
The man who played old music on a phonograph in a place with not a single customer, wreathed in cigar smoke like fog.
Shaking off his thoughts, Chris crammed his body into the bed. Though it was in better condition than the bed at the apartment, his limbs still stuck out beyond the mattress unless he curled up his body.
At times like this, he thought of Northern Light’s dormitory, where furniture was sized for well-built Espers.
Appearing to have few desires was ultimately because there was nothing to want. Chris wasn’t without desires—he was just indifferent to his surroundings.
Was it because his memories were lacking? Since awakening at Northern Light, Chris’s world had been entirely colorless. Receiving education as directed and carrying out missions wasn’t difficult, but he couldn’t find anything stimulating in his own life.
Until he discovered that bookshop, that is.
Realizing he’d returned to thoughts of Yuri again, Chris bit his lip. For the time being, he wouldn’t even have time to contact Andrea or Yont, yet it was troublesome for his attention to be distracted by matters outside his mission. Since the Reeducation Center was established by Yuri Sobolev, Chris was essentially inside the enemy’s jaws.
Since he couldn’t receive backup from Northern Light, he had to respond nimbly to all situations. Moreover, this was Chris’s first infiltration mission.
‘It is strange.’
Chris, who had flopped onto the bed, fell deep in thought while sensing the mixed scents of sunshine, bleach, and fabric softener.
It was puzzling that instead of composing a team with more experienced Espers and sending them, considering the November Continent was difficult to infiltrate, they’d specifically included him, a rookie. Moreover, didn’t Chris have the weakness of being completely unable to remember his past, unlike other Espers?
For now, he could only assume that Yont, the leader of Team Crow, had highly evaluated Chris’s performance and thus included him in the mission.
In the first place, Chris had been the hands and feet in operations, not the member in charge of the head. So there was no need to deeply examine orders from above. He simply followed when Yont commanded.
[Lights out. Please refrain from moving outside the dormitory from now on.]
The lights went out with the announcement. Chris closed his eyes while his body was crammed into a bed smaller than his height.
Despite his sleeping place having changed several times in recent days, Chris quickly fell asleep. He woke in the early morning after a sound sleep. Rising early to devote himself to training had been a habit since his time at Northern Light.
Getting up from his spot, he confirmed his roommates hadn’t woken yet and went outside. He headed to the communal shower room.
Perhaps because it was early, Chris was the only one who’d come to wash. He put his clothes in a locker and entered the shower room. Though he hesitated for a moment about removing his terminal, considering it would be troublesome if someone came in midway and discovered it, he eventually took it off.
Because he wore the terminal even during training, that part of his skin looked relatively paler.
Chris’s fully naked body felt rough and solid rather than smooth. The muscles filling him from shoulders to toes exuded a threatening presence, as if to show they weren’t simply for appearance. They weren’t refined through training but created through actual combat, filled with an intense feeling even without speaking.
If there had been an observer, they would have been suspicious beyond curious about what he’d done in the past.
He grabbed a towel and entered the shower room. The communal shower room greeting its first user was filled only with silence. Walking along with heavy steps, Chris deliberately chose a booth with a good view of the exit. Since there were partitions between each shower, it felt quite cozy.
Intending to shake off the lingering sleepiness and last night’s thoughts, he turned on the water, and hot water poured from the showerhead. Chris closed his eyes and savored the warmth.
The water that flowed down Chris’s broad shoulders traveled down his back muscles, which felt quite threatening. It caressed from his firmly raised buttocks down to his leg muscles, tense like a predator before leaping, before flowing to the drain.
Steam filled the booth. The mirror on the front that had reflected his face also became blurred, reflecting only Chris’s facial outline.
It was a truly strange sensation to have the quiet space, where nothing could be felt except his own presence, filled with the sound of water. It felt like filling an empty place, and also like washing away the silence that had occupied this space along with the water.
Chris’s wet hand swept across the mirror. His hair, wet with water, came down, creating a more youthful impression than usual.
Even aside from that, Chris sometimes felt his own face was unfamiliar. As if looking at a strange other person.
Chris’s gaze, slowly moving down past his face, turned to his chest. And there, across his left chest, was a scar.
Chris’s body had many small scars, but this one looked the most fatal and the oldest.
His finger slowly traced over the scar.
‘Who was it?’
The blue eyes facing Chris in the mirror had sunk coldly.
Because he’d lost all his past, he didn’t know the stories behind his body either. He only knew the fact that he was a reinforcement-type Esper. Though he remembered his name, unable to know his other roots, he even took Northern Light as his surname.
Thus, the emotion Chris harbored toward someone he couldn’t even remember was more curiosity than a desire for revenge.
‘You who left this wound on me.’
