My alma mater is unlike other schools in that it does not aim to socialize individuals.
The only thing taught there is combat skills for dealing with monsters.
Therefore, graduates from the school struggled to adapt when thrown into society.
In societal terms, graduates from the school were merely aging boys, nothing more.
I was no different.
When I retired from the front lines and returned to civilian life, I knew less than someone fresh out of high school entering the workforce.
I didn’t even know that when you move, you have to register your address, or that you need to visit a dealership to set up a phone.
The only thing that helped me in that situation was the internet.
There, I was able to learn the basic social duties and how-to’s for adult men in South Korea, even the places to go for them.
Even if times have changed and new schools have been created, the ignorance of students wouldn't differ much from the past.
They just learn different ways of hunting monsters compared to us old-school hunters.
Thud! Thud!
I knocked on the pipe and found the blockage by the sound.
Thud!
This seems to be the spot.
I tightened the valve with a monkey wrench to stop the flow of water, then detached the blocked pipe.
“Ugh!”
As soon as I detached the pipe, a rotten smell filled the air.
An unidentified black foreign substance, mixed with hair, had flowed into the pipe and appeared to be the culprit behind the blockage.
The stench quickly reached the children watching.
“Ugh!”
“What’s that smell?”
“Disgusting.”
Although they had eyes that glowed faintly, the children didn’t seem much different from any other normal kids I knew.
If I had to pick out a difference, it would be that they spoke with a heavy North Korean accent?
But even that was just the accent, none of them actually used North Korean words. It was clear they were trying to speak in Seoul’s dialect, albeit clumsily.
It’s not hard to understand why.
Who would want to speak the language of a poor, backward, and failed nation?
I shoved a blackened and yellowed toilet brush into the pipe, scraping away the foreign matter, then used diluted bleach to wash away the stench through multiple rounds of cleaning.
After finishing the cleaning, I reconnected the pipe to its original position and addressed the children.
“Step back.”
The children didn’t say anything but just stared at me quietly.
“If you don’t want to get wet.”
Only then did the children step back.
Now, let’s begin.
Whether the rusty pipe, which hadn’t been supplied for years, could withstand the water flow depended on the durability of the Chinese-made pipe.
Still, Chinese pipes were better than North Korean ones.
Whoosh—
The dry showerhead released a strong stream of water.
“Wow.”
No matter what else, the water pressure was something I liked.
Apparently, people from the Eastern Bloc prefer high water pressure, and North Korea, having inherited that preference, also prefers showers with high water pressure.
Watching the pouring water, the children stood there, initially unsure, gazing at the water as it hit the floor and scattered, before suddenly erupting in unison with excitement.
“Wow!”
“Water! Water’s coming out!”
“We don’t have to go to Moran-dong anymore!”
“I want to wash up quickly! Girls, get out!”
“Girls go first!”
It felt rewarding to see the children so happy, but there was a slight sense of doubt creeping in.
This was such a simple repair.
Why hadn’t they done something so minor before?
Leaving the shower room, a stranger stood waiting for me in the middle of the hallway.
Unlike the children from the Revolution District, these were well-dressed boys and girls, wearing neat uniforms.
Seeing them, the girl briefly spoke.
“The teacher is calling for you.”
“Who’s the teacher?”
“Teacher Jeong Ho-kyung.”
Teacher, huh.
I didn’t think that was an official title.
I looked up at the CCTV cameras installed throughout the hallway and answered the girl.
“Lead the way.”
The boy and girl led me along the concrete walls, marking the boundaries between monsters, farms, open spaces, and piles of garbage, to a place I hadn’t been to.
Moran
It was almost identical in design and structure to the Revolution District, but this area seemed much cleaner and better maintained.
The children passing by, observing and watching, looked far better off than the ones in the Revolution District.
Well, objectively speaking, they still fit into the category of being pitiful.
The so-called teacher was waiting for me in a cramped room in Moran-dong.
“Park Gyu!”
He didn’t call me by my call sign or as a Hunter.
A stubborn trait typical of a proud “new school graduate.”
“I just heard from the kids! You fixed the shower, right?”
Only a few hours ago, he’d shown clear disdain for my presence here, making it obvious he didn’t want me staying, but now, he greeted me with a bright smile.
“...”
Personally, I think there’s a big difference between being honest and being transparent.
“When I saw you driving the forklift earlier, I thought you were being careless, but you actually have some skill! I hear your old school even taught little skills like that?”
From his expression and tone, it didn’t seem like he was mocking me.
It just seemed like his unfiltered thoughts were spilling out, offering half-compliments while still holding back a full one.
“No.”
I answered firmly.
At the same time, I was sure of it.
This person was definitely younger.
Objectively speaking, they weren’t very old.
He was younger than Defender.
But when it came to maturity in terms of character, comparing him to Defender would be an insult to Defender.
“I’m sorry if I made you feel bad. I didn’t mean it that way.”
He at least had some self-awareness.
It was probably that very awareness that allowed him to rise to a high position in the Gukwiwon.
I examined his room.
“Isn’t anyone else here?”
The room was modest, containing only a mattress, a small desk, and some clothes hanging on a wall hook.
If he had wanted a bigger, fancier room for North Korean nobles, he could have easily taken one, but the fact that he chose such a simple space made me think he wasn’t the type to crave luxury or greed.
“People?”
“You mentioned it was a simple repair, but I don’t understand why it wasn’t done.”
“Ah, well...”
Jeong Ho-kyung scratched his head.
As he looked at me with a sad expression, I was reminded of the scene when he was twisting his body and shouting next to me while I was driving the forklift.
“People don’t have the drive. I don’t expect passion, but they don’t even have a sense of duty! What we’re doing is so important!”
“Are there people?”
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“Yeah. I brought a few security personnel and service staff. There are people working on the facilities, but that person said they couldn’t do it. They don’t know how. They’re asking to be sent back to Jeju.”
After a lengthy and exaggerated speech, Jeong Ho-kyung slumped his body like a dancer, letting out a sigh that seemed like it would tear the ground.
“I can’t believe they don’t understand how important the work we’re doing is!”
“Why did you call me here?”
I didn’t want to talk for long.
I wanted to talk, but I didn’t want to watch this person overreact.
As a result, my tone turned colder, even to myself, sounding formal.
Slowly, Jeong Ho-kyung raised his head, his glossy eyes now focused on me.
“There’s a lot to fix.”
“I didn’t come here to fix things.”
“Then why did you come? Were you just here to visit the lighthouse for no reason?”
“I wanted to see something.”
“What?”
"Really, do monsters gather here?"
"Why are you curious about that?"
"It's a curiosity from my time as a Hunter."
At the mention of "Hunter," Jeong Ho-kyung briefly showed strong dislike, but it seemed that I was needed here, so he managed to hold his emotions in check.
Letting out a shallow sigh, he spoke.
"What exactly are you curious about? Do you want to see the monsters gathering at the lighthouse? Or do you want to understand the principle of why monsters gather here?"
"Both, but if I had to choose, I’d prefer the latter."
"Then let’s do this, Park Gyu."
Jeong Ho-kyung spread out a large structural diagram of a beehive on the desk.
The peculiar North Korean style of writing, where "ㅇ" is written as "ㄹ," caught my attention, and the awkward contrast between light and dark when the colors were converted to black and white suggested it was a photocopy.
After marking various spots on the map with a highlighter, he handed it over to me.
"The Gaeseong Lighthouse is like North Korea’s version of a world-class starfish that they squeezed out their last strength to create."
"Starfish?"
"Is there a problem?"
"No. By the way, it's a bit hot in here."
"Yes, it should be that way."
Jeong Ho-kyung suddenly unbuttoned a few buttons of his shirt.
The temperature in the room was high.
It was mid-May, and the sunlight was growing stronger.
With no windows in the room, it was only natural.
Jeong Ho-kyung wiped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief and continued speaking passionately.
"Anyway! Please fix the points marked here! If you can’t fix them, leave them, but only fix what you can! The kids are suffering. They can’t even meet the basic conditions needed for a comfortable life!"
"I'm not the apartment maintenance office."
"The only person who can do it is you, Park Gyu. From what I see, you seem to have more passion than anyone else!"
"Passion?"
"Yes! You came here because you want to know why monsters gather at the lighthouse, right? Just that shows your passion! The other committee members from Jeju won’t even dare to see the monsters in person!"
"Since we’re on the topic, about the room you gave me..."
"Ah, that was an administrative mistake!"
Suddenly, Jeong Ho-kyung jumped up and bowed deeply at a 90-degree angle in front of me.
"I am truly sorry!"
Looking at the back of his head, I gently bit my lip.
"..."
I dislike people who don’t apologize, but I also think that those who apologize too easily are dangerous.
Naturally, I didn’t react when ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) receiving an apology like that.
Let’s see how long he can keep that head down.
About ten seconds passed before Jeong Ho-kyung lifted his head.
I deliberately looked elsewhere.
"Park Gyu?"
"Yes."
"I mean, when someone apologizes..."
"I think I’ve said everything I needed to."
I could see him trying to control his expression.
He must have been really angry.
In fact, I had done this to provoke him.
But this guy still had something to gain from me.
"...The principle behind why monsters gather at the lighthouse, right?"
"Yes."
"I’ll give you the materials."
"Good."
It was better to do something than just sit around for the next three or four days in this miserable place.
Listening to the kids’ cheers made me feel like a neighborhood boss.
"Oh, I was thinking of changing your accommodation."
Just as I was about to leave the room, Jeong Ho-kyung said hurriedly.
"The Revolution District you’re in is severely damaged. A good room just opened up here in Moran-dong."
Without turning around, I calmly replied.
"No, it’s fine."
I would take the materials from him, but I had no intention of receiving any favors.
There was no benefit in getting involved with someone like him.
The biggest difference between children and adults is how they measure distance.
I kept a proper distance and grabbed a tool after a long time.
Though it’s far from offering new functions and convenience, a simple structure provides durability and easy maintenance.
Bang!
I fixed a generator.
It used coal, a resource that is practically unavailable in South Korea, but seems to have been commonly used in North Korea.
The old proposal to use coal instead of oil as the main fuel for generators suddenly came to mind.
South Korea may not have a drop of oil, but it’s rich in coal, which is why that idea arose.
However, the suggestion to mine coal and the black smoke from coal power plants visible miles away were enough to shelve the idea.
But in North Korea, those things wouldn’t be an issue.
By the way, I gained a follower.
"What should I do with this?"
It was a boy with short hair speaking awkwardly in Seoul dialect.
At first, this kid had been speaking informally, but for some reason, he started using honorifics and kept asking detailed questions.
Every time, I had to gather the few pieces of knowledge I had to answer.
"A generator is a machine that burns something to generate energy and move a fluid to turn a turbine, which then generates electricity. The turbine is a machine that moves magnets and coils. When the magnets and coils move, electricity is generated in response."
"Why does electricity get generated when the coil and magnet move?"
"You’ll have to get a textbook and study it yourself. It was discovered by some guy named Maxwell or something."
"Maxwell? Isn’t that a porn magazine?"
"...Anyway, if the generator has a problem, it’s highly likely the coil is gone."
He was tall and skinny, unimpressive in appearance, but upon closer inspection, he had the face of a scholarly type.
Had there been no war, and if he had been born in Korea, he might have gone to a good university and become a researcher.
The boy’s name was Hong Jong-beom.
He said he was from Seoul, but judging by his speech, I didn’t think he was from Seoul, or even from South Korea.
His thick northern accent and his innocent answer when I asked where he was from, he said:
"Saebit-dong Island!"
He was probably from North Korea.
And from the looks of it, he had never stepped foot in Seoul.
Anyway, this kid seemed eager to learn and played the role of an assistant, handing me tools.
With a bit of natural skill, he quickly adapted to tasks after just a few tries.
At first, our meeting felt strange, but soon I started thinking of him like a younger nephew or little brother. I also thought it wouldn’t be bad to hear some honest stories from the kids living here at the lighthouse.
However, I made sure to keep my distance.
I knew better than anyone that I shouldn’t save this kid, nor let him save me.
Having completed repairs on three facilities, the sun was setting.
It was time for dinner.
But...
"Mm?"
The meal was disappointing.
It was just a lump of dough steamed together, the kind of undercooked flour chunks that Chinese people sometimes eat.
"Why aren’t you eating?"
Hong Jong-beom asked me.
"Is this really what you call food?"
"Yes."
"Do the kids in the other buildings eat this too?"
"Yes. They all eat the same."
"Jeong Ho-kyung too?"
"Yes."
Unbelievable.
In the supplies I brought, there were some processed meats and a fair amount of snacks.
I stood up, leaving the dough lump on the table.
"Where are you going?"
When Hong Jong-beom asked, I answered without looking back.
"Moran-dong."
I wanted to see their meal.