The City Where Gray Rain Falls Chapter 10

The woman now hanging obscenely before Samuel with her legs spread wide was the wife of the party executive who had recently rebuked him, and also the stepmother of Yoaz, a regular visitor here.

“It’s fine. It’s fine, right?”

Her husband was twice her age, so their nights must have been unsatisfactory, and with her father also being a man of great stature, no one could say a word even when she occasionally indulged herself like this, seeking another man to satisfy her.

Those who treated him with contempt and disregard during the day would, when night fell, hide their bodies in pitch-black, gleaming cars like cockroaches and come here, hoping to be his partner for the night, to be thrust into by Samuel.

It wasn’t bad. He, too, had desires he wanted to release, and he didn’t want to create a special partner.

It was just that he found it appalling when they overstepped and pretended to be his lover, or clung to him with sticky bodies, expecting afterplay or tenderness, urging him on.

“Anyway, my husband has no interest in me.”

“…”

“So you don’t have to go in.”

The woman, lifting her body, wrapped her arms around his nape and made a show of sniffling in a sulky tone. Still, when the reaction she expected didn’t come, she pushed Samuel down and climbed on top of him so that her naked body could be better revealed.

The thick, waving hair behind her delicate face, her voluptuous breasts, and her slender waist were the weapons she had used to conquer countless men.

Even with a woman actively seducing him right before his eyes, Samuel merely looked at her with a slow blink of his eyes, showing no particular interest.

As a sense of annoyance took precedence, irritation already gathered between his brows during the short moment he drew the cigarette smoke deep into his lungs, his index and middle fingers pressed close to his lips.

“You must go back.”

Hoo. The indifferent smoke, having scoured deep inside, hazed over the face of the woman who had, merely by being born, luckily obtained a lofty status and power.

“Samuel, you know well too. That man is…!”

“Must I know?”

The complaints of those who believed the multitude of things they enjoyed were their due were nothing but trivial acts of straying like this, utterly banal. The rulers of this city were tiresome beings whose grievances, even so, had to be listened to and their petulance indulged.

“…!”

The woman, who had glared at Samuel with a look mixing resentment and mortification, picked up her clothes fallen on the floor, dressed, and stormed out noisily, showing her anger.

Even so, in a few days, she would come wagging her hips, dolled up and rushing over without him even needing to contact her. It didn’t matter if she stopped coming entirely. Partners for his night games were overflowing.

After smoking the cigarette until the very end was burning away, Samuel rose from the bed and headed to the bathroom.

Thud. As soon as the bathroom door closed, the adjutant and cleaners entered from outside and quietly erased the traces of the affair in an instant. The evidence of someone’s visit was swiftly wiped away, and as always, pristine bedding without a single stain was prepared for the powerful man.

∞ ∞ ∞

Waaaah. Startled awake by the blaring siren that woke the city, Isaac opened his eyes and hurriedly picked up and put on the clothes he had shed.

If he was going to at least wash his face with the pitifully trickling water that fell like tears, or even just go through the motions of brushing his teeth, he should have woken up earlier. He had overslept because the previous night’s rest had been too sweet.

A shirt made of coarse fabric, a rough coat that covered about half his thighs, and a cap with a small brim placed on his head—he rushed out of the building.

The people who had begun pouring into the streets were all lining up to get a single piece of bread, but Isaac stood tall, gazing at that scene for a moment, then turned and walked quickly toward the gate leading into District 12.

He hadn’t really eaten anything since yesterday, so his stomach clamored with growls, but he was pressed for time if he was to get to the Security Bureau in the City Center on time. He might lose time to a body search, or be dragged off and interrogated.

For the line of people, even if someone was late, there were witnesses, so the circumstances would be taken into account to some degree. But Isaac was alone, so being late could only be an excuse that no one would vouch for.

The excuse that he was late because of the rough inspection process didn’t work in the city. That was a daily occurrence that could happen to anyone, a disaster each person had to endure on their own.

“Pass.”

Contrary to his expectations, the constables merely glanced with their eyes at the identification card Isaac held out and, without questioning or interrogating, permitted him to go into the inner district.

The process itself was smooth, but it was still difficult to adjust to the city’s landscape, which changed starkly beyond the gates. It even gave rise to the illusion that the path he had come from might have been a nightmare.

Indeed, the people inside the gates probably couldn’t believe in the existence of the cold, hard bread that tasted of nothing, or a life of lining up just to get even that. They would likely dismiss it as a terrible dream.

If only that kid, who had so fervently yearned for the city, was staying inside, and had cleanly forgotten the faces he once knew, his friends, his brother—then Isaac would be glad.

If he had gotten what he wished for and was living a dream-like life, or had found the parents he’d firmly believed would be in the city. Then Isaac could, without any lingering attachment, calm his heart that roiled with anxiety and worry, and leave far, far away for the outside world he came from, forgetting both the rebels and the city.

Sadly, the rebels were not competent enough to obtain plausible identities inside the city and provide them to their comrades. What would people living in the advanced districts lack, that they would be tempted by the lure of the outside?

The only thing the rebels could promise would be an impossible future, beginning with the assumption, ‘If we liberate the city…’

Still, as he walked, dodging the constables patrolling the streets and carefully glancing sideways to see if anyone resembled Asel, he soon reached the City Center. Here, too, ‘Crime Prevention Unit member Joshua’ passed without any hindrance.

A sudden courage welled up, making him wonder if he might look around more actively now that he had confidence, but his body, having learned that there were eyes watching him anytime and anywhere, could manage nothing more than a tiny movement of his head left and right.

At the entrance of the Security Bureau, most of the new members, highly tense, had already arrived. No one had even told them to. Under the high wall, they all lined up in two columns in the order they had come, letting out sighs mixed with tension.

He thought he had come quickly, but Isaac was in the second row from the very end among the fifty Crime Prevention Unit members. No matter how much they quickened their steps, the citizens, who had to finish their day’s work within the curfew hours, could only be swift.

A little more waiting and the assembly time of 8 o’clock would arrive. Soon, the firmly closed door would open, and the officer they had met yesterday would come out and tell them what they were to do today.

As soon as the hands of the clock in the clock tower installed not far away pointed exactly to 8 o’clock, the iron gate with several small wheels attached below slid open to the left and right with a loud clattering noise.

A constable who came out from inside the gate called the roll of the unit members. Unless their liver had jumped out of their stomachs, there would be no one absent or late on the first day.

“All present! Nothing to report!”

Having confirmed that everyone was accounted for, the constable guided the members, rigid with discipline, inside. Clomp, clomp. The uniform footsteps echoed in sequence past the training ground, the building entrance, the stairs connected to it, and into the interior.

Though from the outside it was a crude building, square in shape with square windows, as if stamped out of a single mold without any distinguishing feature, the interior, thanks to the high ceiling and large windows, poured in streams of light, offering a sense of openness that made one’s chest feel unburdened.

Here, too, everywhere his eyes landed, uniformed personnel moved about. However, they were not armed, and as they walked freely, if they met someone they were acquainted with, they would casually acknowledge each other with a friendly greeting or exchange small talk.