The City Where Gray Rain Falls Chapter 11

The stiff faces of the neighborhood watch members, who had barely been able to exhale properly from tension, gradually relaxed in the unexpectedly gentle atmosphere, and their rigid footsteps even began to fall slightly out of sync.

To citizens who were routinely beaten by officers for merely arousing a speck of suspicion or hurting someone’s feelings, the existence of the Public Security Bureau was a vivid terror experienced daily on their skin. Everyone had at least one distant relative or friend of a friend who had been dragged here and never returned.

But what they actually witnessed with their own eyes seemed different from what they had imagined. There was no bloodcurdling silence, and like any ordinary government office, the place hummed with activity. Even faint traces of laughter spread across the faces of those passing through the corridors. It was as unfamiliar as the first time they saw life inside the gates.

Still, for citizens who had lived long in the city, especially those accustomed to life on the outskirts, forgetting order in any situation was unthinkable. Just yesterday, they might have laughed and granted leniency, only to drag someone away the next day over a trivial mistake. Carelessness was absolutely forbidden.

So, the only one breaking step in the procession right now was a single young man named Joshua from Sector 28. The way he was looking around with an entranced expression, he looked like he had come on a field trip.

‘I heard a lot of people died in the basement here.’

The rebel uncles would often scare them, saying a monster lived in the basement. A monster who tortured without batting an eye if the Party ordered it, who split open the skin of the living and chewed their raw flesh.

‘Samuel, or something. Sariel, or something.’

A cruel man they said it was far better to die on the spot when discovered than to be taken alive. For a few years, he had greatly threatened the rebels and slaughtered their comrades.

He had also, it seemed, heard worried talk that he was slated to become the new Chief Commissioner, or already had, and that if so, it would be a disaster for the rebels.

Isaac had no particular interest in city affairs, and the rebel uncles didn’t share important information unless you were a ‘comrade.’ They were usually drunk, and whenever they opened their mouths, they mostly told jokes or boasts, making it hard to tell how much was true.

So he had vaguely imagined the inside of the Public Security Bureau to be like a tightly sealed prison, without a single sliver of light. A hellish space crammed with rooms designed for efficient torture and confinement, where screams begging for mercy never ceased.

‘…Maybe the uncles were wrong.’

Could the murderer Samuel really be among those laughing, chatting, and exchanging friendly greetings? Were those people the ones capturing sinners, torturing them, killing them, and disposing of the bodies?

His head unconsciously shook slightly. Those who committed such slaughter would surely have faces like demons. Armed with a savage appearance and the brazenness not to blink an eye at death, they would be lurking insidiously somewhere.

As his vague fear melted away due to the atmosphere being so utterly different from what he had heard, recklessness naturally reared its head. His steps grew lighter on their own, and he was filled with confidence that he was one step closer to finding Asel.

Easily forgetting that beneath his feet was the basement everyone feared, and that he was standing atop hell.

∞ ∞ ∞

“From now on, please think of this room as the neighborhood watch’s office and quarters.”

Sera, the PR officer from the Public Security Bureau who had taken over guiding the procession, led the watch members to the room at the end of the second floor. Two large door panels were fitted side by side there. She grabbed both handles simultaneously and pushed the doors wide open.

The grand doors swung inward, revealing a vast room one could easily mistake for a banquet hall. Unbelievable as it was, this was the space the neighborhood watch would use from now on.

A hundred round eyes, utterly at a loss, darted wildly left and right, urgently scanning the room.

A few empty desks, sofas, and cots filled the space. On one side, caps designating them as the neighborhood watch, clubs used by officers, and portable lamps to allow smooth movement even at night were laid out.

Whether they were stunned by the mind-boggling treatment or not, the officer swept her gaze across the members’ faces, which were a mix of joy, tension, and suspicion. With a light smile, she explained the tasks ahead and the new rules.

“The neighborhood watch operates in pairs.”

Mostly, people from the same sector became a team, but since Isaac was the only one selected from Sector 28, he had no choice but to partner with someone from another sector.

Thus, Isaac’s partner became a man from Sector 26 named Vincent.

He was the oldest among the successful candidates, and his gait was unsteady, making it a mystery how he had been selected. Because of this, no one wanted to be paired with him. He might end up needing to be looked after, or cause trouble during missions.

Disliking the atmosphere of everyone eyeing each other and maintaining silence, Isaac had raised his hand first and volunteered to be Vincent’s partner, but it seemed natural to view it as the older watch member being foisted off on a naive young man who didn’t know any better.

“We carry out patrol duties in two shifts. Besides that, you just need to do the odd jobs I assign.”

The neighborhood watch’s duties were so simple it was deflating. They would patrol designated areas outside the city center, looking for suspicious persons, and do chores like cleaning or running errands. Just by doing that, they would receive not only a salary comparable to a rookie officer’s but also one meal a day.

“For today, let’s just focus on getting acquainted with your partners. The actual patrols start tomorrow.”

Such light work and excessive treatment. The city wasn’t that easygoing a place. On the surface, it proclaimed equality for all citizens and distributed free rations, but experience had taught him that nothing good was ever handed out without reason.

Resources were limited, and only a minority had enjoyed them. So it was unavoidable that the citizens from the outskirts, receiving something beyond their usual share, couldn’t easily shake off their suspicion and just stood there blinking.

For the members who looked completely unconvinced, Sera smiled and added a bit of explanation in a quiet voice, as if whispering a secret.

“…The new Chief Commissioner wanted to change the Public Security Bureau’s frightening image, so he pushed for the revival of the neighborhood watch. It’s being run as a pilot program, and if the results are good, it will be formally established then. So please, even if things are a bit loose now, carry out your duties with a sense of mission.”

Having said all she had to say, Sera left the room immediately, without taking questions from the bewildered watch members or providing any further guidance.

Thud. As soon as the door closed, the words everyone had kept bottled up inside poured out all at once.

“…Is this really okay?”

“Since they say it’s a pilot run, that makes sense.”

“I hope it goes well, and we can become permanent members later.”

The Public Security Bureau’s notoriety was only growing day by day, so it wasn’t entirely strange that they were trying to restore their image using moderate methods around the time the new Chief Commissioner was appointed. Ten years ago, the neighborhood watch had been created and then dissolved for exactly the same reason.

Those who reached their own understanding and accepted the situation diligently spent the given time, lying on the sofas or cots, or putting the caps on their heads and clicking their heels together, mimicking the officers they had seen coming and going.

Isaac also quietly listened to the scattered chatter, forcibly dispelling the small doubts remaining within himself and deciding to imagine only a positive future.

∞ ∞ ∞

The basement of the Public Security Bureau, reachable only after passing through several doors made of solid iron bars, reciting precisely three regularly changing passwords, and descending a steep staircase.

As befitting one of the few spaces dating back to the city’s founding, the dark, foul-smelling secrets the rulers wished to conceal floated there in the form of blackly blooming mold and musty air.