A young man in a bright red uniform vest—the sort that might easily bring to mind a die-hard Republican supporter—stood before a refrigerated beverage display, rubbing his smooth chin. He studied the jumble of drinks in front of him, considering the best way to arrange them.
Naturally, the milk closest to its expiration date had to be moved to the front. Unfortunately, its packaging featured the all-too-familiar—and all-too-unwelcome—face of Bobby, grinning mockingly back at him.
Penny and Pound Farm had taken the dairy industry by storm, turning the established order of convenience-store products on its head. Like its competitors, Hamon Convenience Store had begun stocking the famous Pound Milk, easily recognizable by the cheerful red balloon printed on its carton. Its rich, creamy taste had made it extremely popular with the locals. More importantly, it was affordable.
Unfortunately for Seojun, the owner of Penny and Pound Farm had made the surprising decision to recruit an ordinary member of the public as the milk’s promotional model.
Of all people, why did it have to be Bobby?
The sight of Bobby holding a red balloon and flashing a broad smile was profoundly unpleasant to Seojun.
A competent employee should never allow personal feelings to interfere with his work. But in the small town of Wraithwood Warren, tucked away in a remote corner of California, such boundaries had a tendency to blur. Even the convenience store’s owner, Fred Frank—a man known to neglect his duties from time to time—held a surprising degree of affection for Seojun, despite the fact that he was not even a full-time employee.
Seojun quickly reached a decision.
All right. Let’s turn Bobby’s face to the side.
Once Bobby Thompson’s wide grin had disappeared from view, all that remained was the dull nutrition label, its tiny numbers printed in neat rows. Seojun gazed at the slightly damp carton and dusted off his hands in satisfaction.
The usually monotonous convenience store seemed a little brighter today. The squeak of latex gloves rubbing together was irritating, but it was a small price to pay.
Situated beside an isolated stretch of road, the lonely convenience store at least paid Seojun a decent wage. He could hardly call it an excellent job, but its relaxed pace—fewer than ten customers on an average day—was an undeniable advantage.
After crouching for so long, Seojun rose and massaged the stiffness from his legs. His gaze drifted toward the motionless hands of the clock. Above the store’s fogged glass door hung a round clock that had stopped five days earlier. A layer of gray dust covered its face, and Seojun had no intention of touching it unless the owner specifically told him to fix it.
And so the clock remained frozen in its own private moment: three minutes to twelve.
By coincidence, that was almost the current time.
Seojun quickly glanced at the digital watch on his left wrist to confirm it.
It’s almost time.
They’ll be here soon.
His heart pounded as he stared at the motionless clock. He tore off his gloves, wiped his damp palms against his vest, and strode briskly toward the counter.
Surely they would not pass by the only convenience store on the road to the campsite. Seojun knew all too well how careless and thoughtless they could be.
There was another reason for his certainty.
He had already seen it.
Their arrival here was inevitable.
The digits on his watch changed. He pulled his gloves back on. Normally, they felt suffocating, but today he barely noticed them.
[11:58]
Seojun fixed his unblinking gaze on the worn face of the clock.
The seconds crawled past.
[11:59]
His bloodshot eyes shifted toward the tightly shut entrance, where a faint shadow had begun to gather beyond the glass.
At last, the sun reached its zenith.
The instant his wristwatch chimed, the front door opened. Despite its battered appearance, it slid aside without a sound.
“Why didn’t we just buy everything at the mart earlier?”
The first person to cross the threshold was the unmistakably striking Christina. Her thick blonde hair cascaded down her back, while a pair of cobalt-blue sunglasses rested casually atop her head. They lent her an air of maturity that contrasted sharply with her youth. Yet the scattering of freckles across her right cheek gave her an innocent charm.
Christina’s contradictory appeal filled Seojun with a strange sense of reassurance.
More precisely, it put his doubts to rest.
Her radiant beauty proclaimed her the heroine—the unmistakable protagonist of any story in which she appeared.
The second character entered soon after.
“What’s the big deal? We’re at a convenience store now, aren’t we? Besides, beer tastes better cold.”
The girl who brushed the complaint aside with a cheerful smile was Airi, Christina’s mischievous friend.
Her laughter rang through the store, filling the cramped space with infectious energy. With her chestnut hair tied in a high knot, Airi radiated vitality. She wore a white tank top, shorts that barely covered her thighs, and a light summer jacket, making her the very picture of youthful liveliness.
Her outfit stood in stark contrast to Christina’s more conservative combination of long jeans and a short-sleeved shirt.
Airi spun around, a broad smile curving her lips.
“But seriously, Johan, how did you even know there was a convenience store out here? Honestly... this place is in the middle of nowhere.”
At the sound of Johan’s name, Seojun swallowed involuntarily.
Johan Gentil, the towering 194-centimeter quarterback, was practically a household name in the small town of Wraithwood Warren. Every young man in the area knew who he was, and naturally, the captivating Christina was no exception.
As Johan stepped into the store, he dipped his head in a casual greeting. Rather than answering Airi’s question, however, his gaze settled on Seojun.
The look lasted only a moment, but it was uncomfortable all the same.
Instead of turning away as Seojun had hoped, Johan’s eyes—deep blue, like a winter sea beneath a storm—brightened with a friendly smile.
“Working again today? You really are a hard worker.”
Johan’s voice was deep and resonant, carrying effortlessly across the store.
At once, every eye in the room turned toward Seojun: Bobby and William, who had followed Johan inside, as well as Christina and Airi, who were already standing among the aisles.
Being scrutinized from head to toe by the school’s popular crowd was unsettling, to say the least.
For the record, Seojun would have preferred not to include Bobby in that category. Unfortunately, thanks to the damned Pound Milk craze, he no longer had any say in the matter. The campaign had thrust Bobby into the spotlight.
As a silent act of protest, Seojun resolved not to drink Pound Milk for the foreseeable future.
Meanwhile, Bobby Thompson—who probably had both a refrigerator and a freezer overflowing with the notorious milk—rudely jabbed a finger in Seojun’s direction.
“So you work here, huh?”
Bobby pulled his narrow shoulders as far back as they would go and puffed out his chest, apparently determined to assert himself beside William, the rising football star, and Johan, the school’s heartthrob.
But with his naturally scrawny build and unfortunate distribution of body fat, the display resembled nothing so much as a frilled lizard spreading its neck.
Then again, even a frilled lizard could bite.
Hoping to keep his face intact, Seojun answered in a low murmur.
“Yeah.”
“Is that how you talk to a customer? Well, actually, I guess it suits you.”
Bobby seemed ready to start a scene, but changed tactics when he noticed the girls watching. He leaned across the counter and clapped Seojun on the shoulder.
Seojun grimaced and slapped his hand away.
Neither of them was especially muscular, but Seojun’s larger frame gave him the advantage. Bobby let out a startled yelp.
“Ouch! Is that any way to treat a customer?”
“It smells like tomatoes in here. You haven’t showered since yesterday, have you?”
“What the— Hey!”
Bobby’s face turned as red as a ripe tomato.
Only yesterday, he had tried to humiliate Seojun and ended up embarrassing himself instead. Now, suddenly made to look filthy in front of everyone, Bobby glanced around uneasily, his awkward laughter doing little to hide his discomfort.
“Unlike you, my friend, I’ll be splashing around in the lake and living it up. I’m going to get soaked to the skin anyway. Still, I have to admit, there’s something charming about seeing you slave away on such a beautiful day. Planning to work as a store clerk forever? Or are you hoping to strike it rich on a home-shopping network like Stefan? Of course, you could never dream of enjoying yourself the way we do, could you? Oh, and Tina! You packed a hot swimsuit for the campground, right?”
“Cut the crap, Bobby. If you want to see a sexy swimsuit, wear one yourself. And seriously, have you really not showered since yesterday?”
“Stay away from me, Bobby. And during the drive, you’re riding in the trunk, not the back seat.”
“D-did you just... Christina! Airi!”
Airi raised her middle finger at him with an indifferent expression.
Bobby, usually quick to lose his temper, soon stopped sulking and began to snicker instead. The sly glances he cast at Seojun made it obvious what was going through his mind. He could barely contain his excitement.
Surrounded by Christina, the school’s crowned queen; Airi, the irresistible cheerleader; William, the rising star; and the flawless Johan, Bobby had become drunk on borrowed superiority.
He reveled in the disdain directed toward Seojun, the outcast. His smug satisfaction was impossible to miss beneath his crafty gaze.
But in truth, Seojun did not envy them in the slightest.
Their inevitable suffering and uncertain futures were already far too vivid in his mind.
Thinking of the future that seemed designed to favor an underdog like him, Seojun kept his temper under control.
As always, the life expectancy of a fool who spent his time ogling girls was tragically short.
Fed up with Bobby’s antics, Christina and Airi carried an armful of beer and snacks to the counter. Clearly, they wanted to pay as quickly as possible and leave with their supplies.
“Did we get the barbecue skewers?”
“Do we have enough batteries for the lantern?”
“We bought a new one, so we should be fine. Besides, the campground will probably have spares if we need them.”
While Johan and William continued their easy conversation, Seojun scanned the items with practiced precision. Even the carton of Pound Milk Bobby had secretly slipped into the pile was rung up.
“That’ll be $56.31.”
“Any cigarettes you’d recommend, Jun?”
“......”
At Johan’s friendly use of his name, every pair of eyes in the convenience store turned toward Seojun once again.
The towering Johan rested his elbows on the counter and leaned forward, his broad frame seeming to fill the space between them.
Despite his imposing appearance, he possessed a peculiar talent for making himself seem as harmless as a puppy.
Ignoring the prickling sensation crawling over his skin, Seojun reached behind the counter and selected a pack of the least popular cigarettes.
“That’ll be eleven dollars.”
The corners of Johan’s mouth lifted faintly as he pulled a crumpled bill from his back pocket. Bobby complained under his breath about the price, though Seojun was hardly the one who had set it.
Seojun swiftly handed Johan the receipt along with a lemon.
Johan tilted his head.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a fruit. It’s called a lemon. Very sour.”
“Ah, so this is a lemon? Thanks for letting me know.”
Despite his sarcastic reply, Johan cradled the lemon in both hands and examined it as though it were a precious gemstone.
His intense gaze was somewhat intimidating, but Seojun managed to continue.
“See the cigarette pack? It’s part of a promotion. Buy a pack, get a lemon. Citrus-flavored smoke. Lemon Cigarettes.”
“Interesting.”
Without even bothering to open the cigarette pack, Johan slipped it into his pocket and turned back toward Seojun.
“Hey, Jun. Why don’t you come camping with us? It’s not as though customers are lining up outside. Why stand around doing nothing all day when you could hang out with us instead?”
“What?”
Sometimes, stating the truth aloud could be an offense in itself, but Johan delivered it with fearless sincerity.
Seojun was not the only one startled by the invitation.
Christina, Airi, William, and even the ordinarily loudmouthed Bobby stared at Johan in disbelief.
Unable to contain himself, Bobby interrupted.
“What the hell are you talking about, Johan? He isn’t even a Rompelschtizen baby!”
In other words, Seojun was not a local.
Seojun shot Bobby a contemptuous look. Fortunately, his expression did not appear noticeably different from anyone else’s.
And to call him a baby, of all things.
At his age, Seojun had absolutely no desire to be referred to as one.
Christina sighed. Then she apologized on Bobby’s behalf, since he lacked not only tact but several other essential qualities as well.
“Sorry, Jun. And like Johan said, don’t you want to come with us? Assuming, of course, that you can take a break from the convenience store.”
Unlike Johan, Christina was not suggesting that he abandon his responsibilities entirely, merely that he take some time off.
It made no difference.
Seojun had already decided on his answer.
He rejected both Johan’s brazen invitation and Christina’s sincere offer.
“No. I’m not going.”
But his refusal did not end there.
His voice heavy with foreboding, Seojun delivered a cryptic warning.
“I suggest that all of you be careful. When the sky weeps tears of blood and the lake churns in anguish, yearning for the water it has lost, beware the damp, many-legged creature that emerges from the place where a pig narrowly escaped death. When that moment comes, throw a yellow fruit at it. The wisest choice would be to stay away from Hamon Camp altogether. Aren’t we all far too young to confront the brilliant, noble, and profound mysteries of life?”
Seojun’s ominous declaration plunged the entire convenience store into silence.
Disbelief was written across every face.
“Seojun, are you talking in your sleep? Snap out of it.”
Soft-hearted Christina was the first to voice her concern.
“But the forecast said the weather would be clear today, didn’t it?”
Airi glanced toward the brilliant sky visible through the store windows.
“Look at this freak! He probably thinks he’s some kind of psychic!”
Bobby twisted his face into a mocking sneer and angrily herded his friends toward the exit.
Christina and Airi, visibly displeased by his rudeness, quickly gathered their purchases and followed the others out.
Only Johan remained behind.
He studied Seojun with an unreadable expression, but Seojun merely waved him away, fixing him with a glare that plainly said, Scram.
He was determined to keep his distance from Christina’s group.
Becoming involved with her was out of the question.
Why?
Because this world existed inside The Murderer of the Bloody Lake, a horror film that had premiered in 1999 and vanished from theaters in less than a week after becoming a catastrophic box-office failure.