Click-clack, click-clack.
Behind him, the sound of ceramic plates clinking echoed.
Though he wanted nothing more than to get out of there immediately and take a quiet walk in a park to calm down, Raimund forced himself to sit still.
After a moment, the white-haired man returned carrying two steaming cups.
Instead of clearing the messy table, he set one mug atop a tall stack of books and flopped down on the sofa opposite Raimund.
“Here, let’s drink.”
“......”
Without saying a word, the man began sipping from his cup.
Raimund watched him cautiously before taking a sip of the warm, dark liquid inside his own cup.
First, a rich floral aroma greeted him. Then, a slightly bitter aftertaste washed over his tongue, and the liquid sliding down his throat warmed his stomach.
It was a perfect welcome for England’s chilly weather.
No, more than that — this isn’t artificial tea. Could it really be genuine black tea?
The white-haired man spoke first as Raimund eyed the cup suspiciously.
“You’ve managed to escape the brain storage container and get a new body. It proves my eyes didn’t deceive me.”
Of course. Raimund had his doubts, but this man was the same person who had put his head into that container.
Realizing this, Raimund sprang up and hurriedly greeted him.
“Thank you for what you did back then. I don’t fully understand what happened, but I’m immensely grateful you took me—well, more precisely, my head—with you.”
“How did you get out?”
“Huh?”
“I asked how you got out. I heard you were moved to the quarantine facility.”
“They just... let me go and asked if I wanted to sign a contract?”
“A contract? What contract? A contract to be my personal assistant?”
“An external service contract.”
“Why?”
The man grimaced as if this was absurd. No, why?
Only then did Raimund realize this man had quite a fierce expression. He looked like someone with a strong personality.
Suddenly, Raimund recalled Cozet’s displeased expression.
Could Cozet know something about this man?
No, no. He shouldn’t jump to conclusions.
The man had seemed calm when bringing the tea but now suddenly started pressing him hard—there must be a reason.
Raimund tried to interpret the man’s behavior positively and reconsidered what he had said, but
No matter how he thought about it, he didn’t believe he had said anything offensive. They hadn’t even exchanged many words.
Still, the man narrowed his sharp eyes like a venomous snake and interrogated him.
“So, why exactly did you sign an external service contract? Won’t you answer? Should I ask again?”
“Even if you ask, the Foundation Union made the offer first...”
“Weren’t you assigned number 101 in the quarantine? And you don’t have the capability or knowledge to sign such a contract—how would the Foundation offer it to you?”
“My name is Raimund Geppert. Not number 101. And I was forced to sign it. The Foundation lent me a large sum of money.”
“You borrowed money too?”
“Mr. Yocanan said since it’s a large sum, maybe I should pay it back with my body.”
Raimund insisted firmly, and the man suddenly lost his temper.
He muttered something like a complaint, but Raimund felt it was more like a rejection of himself.
After venting alone for a while, the man stood up coldly and spat out:
“I think the Foundation Union wants me to team up with you, but I have no intention of doing that.”
“Huh?”
“What I wanted was an assistant who listens to me well. After I requested someone from the Foundation Union, you came—so I hoped, but I got stabbed in the back.”
“No. Wait. What request did you make?”
“What I wanted was my assistant, not an external contractor of equal standing. We’ll share the lodging, but privacy must be respected. Don’t interfere with each other. That’s all.”
“Wait! Hey, now that you say that—”
The man abruptly left for the upstairs, without even exchanging names.
Startled, Raimund jumped up, but the heavy door upstairs slammed shut loudly moments later.
Standing dumbfounded, he thought of Cozet in the living room filled with the fragrant aroma of black tea.
-If they don’t open the door, contact me.
So Cozet already knew the temper of the person I’m supposed to live with. But why only vaguely told me?
Raimund gave up and glared at the mug in front of him.
As if the person upstairs might come down to apologize.
What is the first thing to do when thrown into a strange environment?
Explore the surroundings.
Just as when Raimund left the orphanage and entered Sector 5 for the first time, he decided to carefully inspect this three-story mansion.
Tiptoeing stealthily, he came to one conclusion.
This house is a dump.
No exaggeration. The poster read “Number 36,” and it was spacious enough for one person to live comfortably. It had three floors, after all.
But trash overflowed everywhere.
Dust billowed every time he stepped on the carpet. The living room table was piled with stained books and breakfast plates crusted with dried jam.
The antique kitchen sink was covered with unknown black stains, smelling strongly of rotten eggs.
In the cupboard, there was a pack of cereal expired seven months ago and milk that had turned into cheese.
Instead of glasses, dishes, or a small vase, the dining table was covered with cutouts of shelter news headlines, fitted together like a puzzle.
The fridge held only a frozen slice of bread, one egg, and a nearly empty jar of marmalade.
Ah, and he nearly forgot seven transparent cups filled with strange liquids, plus a dead rat with a syringe stuck in its head.
The basement storage held nothing but a buzzing eco-friendly fuel boiler.
The three bedrooms on the third floor were piled with heaps of clothes, underwear, and over thirty pairs of men’s shoes left wherever.
After seeing all this, Raimund quietly closed the door.
‘If one person uses the house however they please, such a disaster can happen.’
He couldn’t even imagine the state of the bathroom and toilet.
His home in Sector 5 seemed better by comparison. At least there, the milk was not naturally aging into cheese!
Raimund had to make a decision.
Contact Cozet to request moving to another house and escape this dump,
or accept it as fate.
Wait a second. Is this really something to decide?
“Fate sure suits you.”
Fuck that!
Raimund shouted inside his head and made his decision in two seconds, rushing down to the first floor.
He remembered there was a phone in the entrance hallway.
Almost slipping, he grabbed the sticky black receiver and hurriedly dialed the number.
Cozet’s number—what was it? No need to use a payphone anyway.
2, 4, 5, 5, 7, 7, 8, 2, 1.
His heart pounding, he put the speaker to his ear. No sound came through.
No busy signal or “number not found” message either. He just waited.
Then, after a brief pause,
-Connected to codename Cozet line...
“Cozet!”
-You scared me, Mr. Geppert. That number belongs to Friedrich. Looks like you got home safely?
“That’s not the problem. Something really, really serious is happening.”
-Serious?
Raimund gripped the receiver tightly and took a deep breath.
“My house is filthy.”
A brief silence.
Then, laughter burst from the other end, slapping his ears.
-Ahahahahaha! Your house, cough ahahahahaha!
“Cozet, this is no time to laugh. I’m serious. It’s really dirty. I’m not joking—I honestly can’t live here. And about the person in the same industry you mentioned, the atmosphere is impossible to have a conversation with.”
-Sorry, sob, I’m sorry. chuckle Are you having trouble with Friedrich? It seems you made it home alright from the line.
“He looks like he doesn’t even want to see me. Now he says let’s just work separately. Can’t I just move somewhere else? It’s my lifelong wish. If I stay here, I’m sure I’ll get food poisoning, respiratory disease, or some kind of epidemic. I swear.”
-That’s unfortunate. I haven’t visited Friedrich’s place either, so I didn’t know.
“Is there really no way?”
Please, please. Raimund shut his eyes tightly and prayed desperately.
He could go anywhere as long as it wasn’t this damn dump. He’d rather sleep on the streets than here!
But the world wasn’t that easy. Cozet answered energetically, but regretfully.
-But what can I do? I heard there’s nowhere suitable at the moment.
“What? Why? They said the Foundation Union cares about the safety of its workers!”
-It’s the Foundation Union, Mr. Geppert. This is already decided and approved by higher-ups, and managing external contractors isn’t my responsibility. Of course, if Friedrich won’t open his door for you, I can come and kick it in for you, but moving residence is difficult.
“What if I collapse from food poisoning here?”
-Well, then we’d probably send our medical team! ...Oh, but actually, there might be a way.
A way! Raimund cheered silently.
“What way? I’ll do anything!”
-There’s a vacant house in Sector 4, but there’s a minor issue.
“A problem?”
-The Foundation Union members who moved in there tend to meet an untimely, unpleasant death within three months. Some say it’s a curse, but it’s unconfirmed. If you don’t like Number 36, would you go there temporarily?
Not minor at all!
He wanted to slap the self who cheered forty seconds ago.
No use begging anymore. Clenching his teeth, Raimund spoke quietly.
“You might as well wish that I don’t die from eating cheese-made milk in contaminated dishes. Thanks, Cozet.”
-I was just listening to your complaints, no need to thank me. Anyway, I hope you adjust well to the new place. Oh, the phone inside the house is a secure line, so call anytime. Bye!
The lively, cheerful voice cut off abruptly.
Raimund glared at the phone making a dial tone sound and slammed it down hard.
Fine. Good.
There’s nowhere left to go.
Turning away, any longing or hope for the three-story house was gone from his eyes.
Instead, only the resolute determination of a man stepping into a gloomy, musty, smelly, damp, messy, polluted, moldy, rusty, dusty, foul, and filthy den of demons shone through.
Raimund strode across the dusty carpet and threw open the living room window.
In the late morning sunlight, amidst the floating dust particles in the air, his resolve solidified.
“Watch over me, Fioni.”
The cleaning skills you taught me—I’m going to put them to use right here, right now…!