The City Where Gray Rain Falls Chapter 23

During that time, Isaac had explained the full circumstances to Vincent, who had stepped forward to help him, in thorough detail.

That he had recklessly stolen the identity of someone named ‘Joshua’ to search for his friend, and that, not knowing any better, he had tried to infiltrate through a sewer connected to Sector 28 and nearly suffocated in filth.

That he had been anxious there might be a real Joshua at the residence listed on paper, or neighbors who might recognize his presence—but, thankfully, the place had long been an empty house and no one had taken any interest.

Since the other man had told him his own circumstances without hiding anything, Isaac wanted to have nothing concealed from him, at least. The only thing Isaac could offer in return to his first and only ally in the city was the truth.

However, he did not specify exactly who it was he was searching for. Perhaps, even in that moment, he had been thinking of every contingency.

Afraid that the moment they were discovered, Vincent might be made to talk about ‘Asel’—that he might fail even to protect the boy. He merely added a few details about his appearance: the color of his hair and eyes, his height, and the remark that he was a beautiful young man.

After hearing the general account, Vincent, like Isaac, assumed two main possibilities first. His judgment was that the friend was either already dead and long since a corpse, or, if he had survived against all odds, he would not have made it beyond the fringe sectors.

Of course, there was also a third possibility. If the friend Isaac was searching for was, by anyone’s standards, an exceptionally beautiful young man, he might have caught the eye of someone in a high position and been brought into the inner sectors.

But in that case, rumors would certainly have spread. And even if they had been thoroughly silenced, he would still have passed through the hands of the Security Department for identity verification, or laundering. If the young man someone had taken into their home for amusement turned out to be a rebel, that was the surest path to bringing ruin upon one’s entire family.

The city’s rulers, whose caution was second to none, loved documentation, procedure, and verification—so the working-level officials under them, to avoid any disgraceful incidents, would have grown adept at producing paperwork, even if only perfunctorily.

Whether he was dead, alive, or had obtained a new identity. The traces of it would certainly remain, intact, in the Security Department archive room.

But when Isaac had actually opened the door, gone inside, and looked around, the vast majority of it was useless materials, and there was nothing relating to population or personnel records. Where on earth could they have been kept?

‘You said there was a red door inside the archive room, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, that’s right.’

‘I’ve heard that records on unidentified deceased persons or those who’ve newly obtained identities are important, so they’re kept separately.’

As expected. At Vincent’s words, Isaac felt certain once more that his intuition was right. Once he opened the red door and stepped inside, the long-awaited answer would surely be waiting.

‘…Actually, someone came into the archive room that night.’

As much as his confidence swelled, fear of that man—whose face he did not even know—rose inside his chest. Because when the complete darkness fell, the man’s low voice, whispering “little rat,” clung to his ears like an after-sound, buzzing and ringing.

Even as he forced himself to gulp down the reassurance that his presence had not been detected, he often dreamed of those black dress shoes clacking forward, stopping right in front of him, and then, barely, receding into the distance.

‘Who?’

Perhaps Vincent had seen him too, Isaac wondered, and simply hadn’t mentioned it for the same reasons as himself. But judging by his reaction, it seemed he truly had no knowledge of that presence.

‘I only saw from below, so I don’t know well. He brought a woman inside with him, and he wore a white uniform…’

‘Hmm…’

Even with just that much description, Vincent seemed to have figured out who the man was. Because his brow furrowed deeply, and the way he shut his eyes tight was far from ordinary.

‘Usually, there are very few people who can move around inside the Security Department that freely—and a pure white uniform on top of that…’

‘…Who could it have been?’

‘Have you, in all this time, ever seen anyone wearing a white uniform among the people you’ve come across?’

All Security Department officers wore black uniforms, with epaulets according to rank. If someone had been walking around in white clothes, it would have been impossible not to notice.

‘Ah, no. I just thought… he might have been some other guest who came for the inauguration…’

At Vincent’s slightly reproachful question—as if to say, did he not even know that—Isaac, embarrassed at having his ignorance exposed, hastily trailed off while tacking on his own reasoning.

At that, Vincent cleared his throat with a cough, straightened his voice, and answered his clueless partner, emphasizing each word.

‘…The new Chief of Security, Samuel.’

‘Sir?’

‘Make sure you remember this. Samuel is a man you must never, under any circumstances, come face to face with going forward—he’s the most dangerous person in this city. Blond hair, blue eyes—the moment you meet someone in a white uniform, you’ll come to think you’d rather be dead…’

The instant Isaac fully registered that he had been in the same space as that Samuel—a man the rebels considered no different from the devil himself—at a distance so close he could have reached out and touched him, his heart plummeted downward and his head spun.

Someone or other in the rebel camp where he had grown up must have gone on at length about Samuel’s distinguishing features, but since Isaac had never, until now, intended to come to the city, he had always let it go in one ear and out the other.

Based on the few stories he did remember, he had only imagined some monster of a man who lurked in the Security Department basement or on the building’s top floor, his face plastered with thick scars. Who could have known that he had already shared such a stark, naked moment with him?

“D-do you think that man… noticed I was there?”

Stammering, Isaac finally voiced the question that had been tormenting him for days.

‘No. If he had known someone was there, a bullet would have flown first and turned you into a honeycomb. That man has absolutely no mercy whatsoever.’

Thanks to Vincent’s resolute answer, Isaac felt relief wash over his chest—relief that the “little rat” had not been him.

‘So let’s both be careful not to get caught. Understood?’

Because of his dependable ally, who called the two of them “us”—two people who, just a few weeks ago, hadn’t even had cause to meet—Isaac was able to steady his heart, telling himself that rather than letting his imagination get the better of him and preemptively frightening himself over the Chief of Security, Samuel, he’d do better to focus on properly seizing the opportunity that was soon to come.

∞ ∞ ∞

The Security Department’s grand cleaning in preparation for Founding Day took place over the course of three full days.

On the first day, they removed the years-old dust from the corners of the building and polished the unseen places to a shine.

On the second day, they made the high-traffic areas—like the hallways and staircases—gleaming and slick. And on the third day, today, that is, they were to walk around and finish cleaning any spots that were still not quite clean or that stood out.

The higher-ups, mindful that there had been a rebel among the Vigilance Corps members, had stationed duty officers at the ends of the staircases and corridors. But even that vigilance had wilted by the final day, and they had concentrated their manpower only on the 1st floor and the 7th-floor security office—the areas the rebel had directly targeted—so the other floors were quiet.

Isaac and Vincent were assigned to clean the 2nd through 4th floors. Since everyone except a few high-ranking individuals, the Chief of Security included, was required to use the stairs rather than the elevator, the others had extended them at least that much consideration, out of regard for Vincent’s bad leg.

Just as they had done the day before, the two of them thoroughly cleaned starting from the 4th floor and worked their way down to the 3rd. Once the 3rd floor was done, the plan was to go down another floor and inspect for any areas that were still dirty. Though, of course, there was a place they intended to stop by briefly before that.

“Hoo-ha.”

“…Don’t be too nervous. You haven’t forgotten the signal we agreed on, have you?”

“No. Of course not.”

Cough, cough—two coughs meant someone was nearby, be careful. Ahem, clearing the throat meant it was safe and he could come out now. In case they might not be able to hear, if there was no response from inside, Vincent was to signal how much time had passed through the number of knocks.

Even though nothing of their future could be guaranteed the moment they got caught, Isaac felt an indescribable gratitude toward Vincent, who stepped forward like this to help him so greatly.

“Thank you. Truly.”