Even he himself had forgotten who he was, yet he wanted to know the story of the one who had carved a scar that followed his life even afterward.
While he stared at the scar on his body, the mirror became clouded again. Instead of wiping the mirror clean again, Chris closed his eyes beneath the pouring stream of water.
It was truly absurd to be immersed in sentiment, curious about who someone who would at best be an enemy was.
After finishing his shower, Chris came out to the locker room with a towel wrapped around his waist.
Water dripped from the ends of his hair.
A guide he’d met at Northern Light had said his hair was pretty and asked if he’d thought about growing it longer, but Chris had firmly shook his head. Keeping it cut short was more convenient to manage. Moreover, when he got caught up in fights in the field, there were often those who tried to grab his hair. Unless you were an elemental or psychic type ability user who could subdue opponents without lifting a finger, it was wise to minimize weaknesses as much as possible.
As Chris quickly dressed and was putting on his pants and threading his arms through his shirt, he sensed a presence. Checking the entrance to the locker room, he soon saw a middle-aged man walking in.
“Goodness!”
The man clutched his chest upon discovering Chris. Still holding the unbuttoned collar of his shirt, Chris nodded slightly and finished getting dressed.
“Ahem. Sorry about that. You’re the first person I’ve seen come to use the shower room this early. I was a bit startled.”
“It’s fine.”
Chris replied curtly and buttoned up. Since the man appeared to be one of the center’s trainees, he probably wasn’t related to Yuri Sobolev’s organization, but there was nothing good about letting him take note of physical characteristics.
Contrary to his expectation that the middle-aged man would immediately change clothes and enter the shower room, he hesitated and couldn’t take his eyes off Chris’s face.
“Is there something on my face?”
“No. It’s not that.”
The man waved his hands dismissively.
“There’s someone similar to you at the center. How curious.”
Chris’s hand paused as he buttoned the last button.
“You look so alike I’d think you were siblings. Is it because you have the same hair and eye color?”
The man tilted his head back and forth, then apologized if his staring out of curiosity had been uncomfortable before walking deeper into the locker room.
Someone who looks similar.
Since it wasn’t something to think deeply about, by the time Chris closed his locker door and started walking outside, he’d let the man’s words flow out of his mind.
Not having entered the center with the intention of learning anything, Chris applied for lectures in construction, which many people had chosen. Information tends to gather where many people congregate. To blend in as much as possible, Chris planned to move with the majority.
The reason many wanted to learn construction skills was simple. Though differences existed in climate, culture, and development level depending on the continent, if there was one project they all commonly undertook, it was repairing or restoring facilities from the old era. Additionally, construction of new residential areas was steadily ongoing.
If you completed the education properly, becoming a technician welcomed anywhere was a great attraction in times like these. You could choose to settle in any continent.
Moving to the practice room according to the schedule, Chris thoroughly observed the interior of the Reeducation Center and committed it to memory. The practice room was already full of trainees. Though they were gathered in small groups, there was one particularly noisy group.
Chris, who casually glanced over, discovered a blonde woman at the center of that group. She had been chatting and laughing about something enjoyable with her acquaintances when she seemed to sense his gaze and turned her head, discovering Chris.
“Oh my?”
Meeting her blue eyes, Chris immediately realized who the “similar-looking person” the middle-aged man had mentioned in the morning locker room was.
Understandably so—she had light blonde hair and blue eyes exactly like Chris himself. Since people with such light pigmentation were rare in the June Continent, Chris was quite surprised. Especially, the combination of sparkling platinum blonde hair and eyes as clear blue as if the North Sea had been placed there was a first.
Looking closely, their facial features themselves weren’t that similar, but the atmosphere was similar enough that at a glance, one might mistake them for blood relatives.
Her eyes shining with curiosity, she said something to the people around her, then separated from their group and approached Chris briskly.
“Hello, newbie. I’m Nasthenka. Close friends also call me Nacha. Whichever you prefer.”
Nasthenka extended her hand with a cheerful smile. Chris lightly clasped her hand and lowered it. He felt like he couldn’t escape being the newbie wherever he went.
“Wow, I heard from Uncle Tom, but I never thought we’d look this alike.”
Though he didn’t prefer people who approached abruptly upon first meeting, Chris politely gave his name.
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Chris.”
He had no intention of being unsociable toward someone who clearly seemed to have wide connections.
“How strange. I don’t have any lost older or younger brothers. Can’t grab my late father by the collar and ask him either.”
At Nasthenka’s words, spoken with a languid smile about how troublesome this was, Chris swallowed a bit of disappointment. Though they might have encountered blood relatives with the probability of lightning striking from a clear sky, it was more likely they were just strangers who looked very similar.
Moreover, the closer he looked, the more Chris felt a sense of discord from Nasthenka. Perhaps because his ability was to transform into a beast, Chris’s intuition tended to be accurate.
“Anyway, since we’ve met like this, it’s fate—let’s get along from now on. It’s only a few months, but I’m the senior here, so if there’s anything I can help with, just say so.”
Nasthenka spoke with good-natured ease. Since it wasn’t a bad proposal, Chris agreed as well.
After exchanging a bit of conversation, Nasthenka returned to her friends. Chris also took an appropriate seat and sat down. The instructor who appeared at the start time of the lecture began first with safety training.
He carefully watched the demonstration of accidents involving heavy equipment used on construction sites and first aid procedures. Unlike what he’d guessed when he learned about the Reeducation Center, there was no ideological education included. The instructor only spoke about the lesson content in an extremely dry tone.
Still, since this was the first class, he needed to observe a bit longer.
Northern Light had always said that Yuri Sobolev, who controlled the November Continent from the shadows, was a dangerous existence. So he might shake people up in a more cautious manner.
Chris didn’t let down his guard, but even in the subsequent lectures, he couldn’t find anything particularly suspicious.
The food provided at mealtimes was simple but of good quality.
While soaking black bread in the soup he’d been served and eating it, Chris felt fullness rising. Just as even a beast relaxes a bit when its belly is full, when Chris’s vigilance had somewhat eased, he saw Nasthenka, whom he’d encountered in the first lecture, striding toward where he was sitting.
“We meet again.”
Unlike Chris, who had bread, she brought mashed potatoes with sautéed vegetables and plopped down across from him as she greeted him.
“If this seat doesn’t have an owner, I’ll excuse myself.”
“Please sit.”
“Are you adapting well on your first day?”
“It was fine.”
“That’s good. Some people who enter the center can’t adapt and end up leaving again.”
Nasthenka said with a smile. Reading between the lines, it seemed she’d been here quite a while.
“I plan to learn everything I need to before leaving.”
In truth, for Chris, the Reeducation Center was nothing more than a stepping stone to enter the abandoned factory district. But before that, he needed to know the selection criteria for those sent from the center to the abandoned factory district.
Andrea was probably also finding out information Chris needed at the reeducation center where she’d been admitted.
“Speaking of which, is there any advice you can give me?”
Chris asked with an amiable smile. At the sight of the handsome man smiling like a picture, Nasthenka’s eyes softened gently.
“Even if you smile like that, I really have nothing to say…”
“Since Nasthenka is my senior, I thought you’d know more than me.”
Chris’s smile was part of the field training he’d received at Northern Light. He’d learned that with decent looks and appropriate manners, it was easy to draw out the goodwill of people you encountered during missions.
At Chris’s repeated request, Nasthenka went “Hmm,” paused for a moment, then readily opened her mouth.
“There aren’t any great rules. It’s not such a strict place. Not few people come in, but they leave before settling in for long. Fast is six months, long is about two years. In the end, only the rules the center side has set up matter. Everyone’s lived rough lives, so persons of interest occasionally appear, but they’re quickly isolated.”
Chris was able to obtain various information from Nasthenka.
Minor things like where you could bring in outside food to the center, that you could apply for “outings,” and major things like there was a separate section in the dormitory where addicts stayed—it wasn’t forbidden to enter, but you could see rough sights, so don’t approach that area.
Chris committed the location of the addict section to memory. It seemed worth approaching discreetly later.
“If there’s an unwritten rule, it’s not asking about each other’s pasts. What work you originally did, how you ended up drifting here…”
Nasthenka trailed off.
