The City Where Gray Rain Falls Chapter 20

The basement. Among the many places in the Public Security Bureau, the basement was so close to taboo that citizens were reluctant to even speak of it.

Claims of innocence or injustice held no currency there. The moment you set foot inside, you were guilty, even without sin, and there was no hope of survival even if you spilled everything you knew.

In a place where statements and confessions were easily fabricated and then denied, truth and innocence mattered little. It was better to die early than to endure brutal torture with no end in sight, forced to confess information you didn’t even know.

Waaaaah. The blaring siren cut through the heavy silence that choked their throats.

To receive the report on the previous night’s patrol status and instructions for today’s work, the neighborhood watch members forcibly moved their feet, which had been reluctant to leave, lined up, and marched briskly out to the training ground.

Here and there, spaces stood empty—those absent due to the disgraceful incident, witnesses to the event. In the gaps created by their absence, anxious premonitions, worst-case futures, and tangled emotions pooled, quickly swirling into a fierce torrent.

Isaac was no different from them. Even as he consoled himself that he had perfectly hidden his clumsy steps within their orderly march, even as he felt relief at having somehow gotten through the worst crisis, he couldn’t completely shake the anxiety that prickled the top of his head.

In the midst of all this, the only thing he could rely on was Vincent, diligently keeping pace beside him.

∞ ∞ ∞

‘H-how…’

A few hours earlier, the one who had intercepted Isaac’s wrist as he crept out of the records room on the third floor, holding his breath, was Vincent—the very man he had thought was asleep at the end of the corridor.

Even while limping on his arthritic right leg, he swiftly dragged his partner into a corner out of sight.

He didn’t run to the watch members patrolling other floors, nor did he report him to an officer. There was no scolding for not having stayed out as he was told, no sign of surprise at the reckless behavior that courted danger. It was as if he had expected Isaac to enter that room from the very beginning.

‘You mustn’t act rashly. Don’t even think about moving alone. You haven’t forgotten where we are, have you?’

Only after firmly cautioning his partner for his reckless, indiscriminate actions and confirming that he nodded in understanding did Vincent get to the point.

‘…Ha. I’ll help you.’

‘Pardon…?’

‘I said I’ll help you find that person. Isn’t that why you came to the city?’

That alone wasn’t sufficient explanation. A citizen born and raised in the city would never go so far as to sacrifice himself to help someone else.

‘Are you perhaps…’

Isaac’s lips quivered, hesitating over whether to voice his suspicion. It could put the person offering to help in an awkward position. But Vincent seemed to already know what his partner wanted to say.

‘I’ve lost many things in this city too, things I could never find again. It’d be more accurate to say I never even dared to try. City people don’t understand goodwill. For instance, volunteering to partner with an older man with a bad leg, or sympathizing with someone who’s suffered a similar loss.’

‘…’

‘…In the end, repaying a small kindness with great loyalty is the righteous path. Isn’t that so?’

After that, they hadn’t been able to share the details because the assembly time was near. But his last words gave Isaac certainty.

Vincent was someone who had come from outside, just like him—a rebel who had been selected as a comrade and settled in this city decades ago.

∞ ∞ ∞

The tremendous incident—that rebels had been mixed in among the Public Security Bureau’s neighborhood watch—was concluded so anticlimactically that it made the terror and trembling of the dozens gathered on the training ground seem pointless.

After completing an internal investigation overnight, the higher-ups had decided to take into account that the other members had no particular connection to the two rebels whose identities had been exposed.

Since the rebels didn’t appear to have acted in an organized manner, they judged it a waste of time to disband the neighborhood watch, revived specifically for the Public Security Bureau’s positive image, or to investigate everyone individually.

Thus, the Chief Commissioner’s final message was that he hoped the neighborhood watch members would keep their mouths shut about the rebels as if they hadn’t heard anything, and simply carry out their assigned duties at their posts.

The moment they heard the order delivered in Sera’s clear voice, everyone collectively clutched their chests and let out relieved sighs. But Isaac felt a dizzy sensation, as if he had stepped into a quagmire of unfathomable depth.

Though he feared torture and death, and was indeed terrified of his identity being discovered, it was because he had never imagined things would pass so nonchalantly.

Sera, their superior and the Chief Commissioner’s adjutant, neither requested additional reports nor asked questions about anything unusual. She simply finished what she had to say and immediately instructed them to resume patrolling in shifts, just as before.

Isaac had been looking for an opportunity to report the man and woman he had seen, but ultimately decided to keep his mouth shut.

The fact that they had reached the third floor without any hindrance meant they were people with the authority to do so.

Furthermore, since even those patrolling the first and second floors had said nothing about unfamiliar visitors, it seemed better not to run his mouth carelessly, so he changed his mind at the last moment.

He didn’t know who the visitors to the records room were, but they must have stumbled upon it while looking for a place for a secret rendezvous. Thinking back, the man had spoken with an air of knowing the Public Security Bureau quite well.

And besides, unlikely as it was, the last words the man had left for the ‘little rat’ had sounded like a warning meant for him.

The man’s identity—with his black, gleaming shoes, white trousers, and a voice that was cold to the point of being acrid. Various questions pressed in on him, threatening to split his head open, entangled with the sudden emergence of Vincent, who had proclaimed himself an ally and revealed his true colors.

Who was that man? Had he noticed my presence? Is the rebel incident truly over? Can I rest easy? Since when, and how much, does Vincent know? Can I honestly confide my circumstances to him? No, can I even trust him…

“What are you thinking about so deeply?”

“Ah…”

Exactly one full day had passed since the rebel incident, and the neighborhood watch’s duties had returned to normal as if nothing had happened. Patrol duties carried out in pairs also continued, with those who had lost their partners forming new pairs.

But Isaac was only confused. Disjointed thoughts chased each other in circles without finding a single proper answer, and the inability to even describe the indescribable ominousness in concrete words—let alone find any trace of Asel—tormented him.

The greatest pain among these stemmed from his inability to trust even Vincent, who had offered to help him.

Even listing everything he knew about the middle-aged man walking alongside him now provided no grounds for trust.

Someone who knew his identity. A fellow rebel who had entered the city at some point on some mission—that much was undeniable. A man in his fifties who had offered to help him under the mere pretext of a small kindness.

And still, Isaac didn’t even know Vincent’s real name or his true circumstances. He couldn’t be sure how much of their conversations so far had been true, or what he was hoping to gain by volunteering his help.

“Ha…”

On the way back after finishing their patrol to report for the day, Isaac was so anxious that he unconsciously let out a sigh mixed with unease in a quiet alleyway.

“You look like you have a lot of questions you want to ask me.”

That was true. His mind was such a mess that he didn’t even know what to ask first.

Isaac combed his tousled hair back neatly with his fingers and straightened his cap. After a long, deep breath, he finally managed to force out a single question.