PAX 3

The owner of 101 opened the mosquito net through a gap in the wire mesh and handed out the remaining balance. I took it and counted it.

“Yes. I’ll be going now.”

“Thanks for the hard work.”

The remaining half of the reward for finding the missing cat. I tucked it well into the corner of my bike’s luggage box and set off. 10:00 AM, 10:30 AM, 11:00 AM, 11:50 AM, 12:10 PM…. I continued to handle my tasks, following the addresses in my head one by one.

Once the work was finished to some extent, I went to Zone 6. Elderly seniors mainly live in this area, and because they prefer to recognize the sound of my bike and call me over to make requests directly rather than calling Pachulso, I roam through the alleys slowly and scan my surroundings.

“Hey.”

The elderly man at 6-3 opened his front door and gestured. I parked my bike and followed him inside the house.

“Water is leaking here.”

The old man leaned on his cane, walked to one side of the kitchen, and pointed under the sink. I knelt down and peered underneath.

“It looks like the drain is clogged and backing up. I’ll send someone tomorrow, so don’t use the water here until then.”

“Do I have to pay? It’s not a big deal.”

“You have to pay. Just half for today.”

“I don’t have any money.”

“Don’t you have any items?”

“Look around and see what there is.”

I searched around the house, but there didn’t seem to be anything of particular value.

I also scanned the old man’s body. He was wearing a gold ring on the ring finger of his left hand, which was missing its index and thumb.

“Is that real?”

The old man looked at his own ring and then curled his finger in.

“It’s my wedding ring, would it be fake?”

If it’s real gold, it’s too expensive to receive as payment for clearing a drain.

“Don’t you have anything like fake jewelry?”

As I asked, I discovered a bag on the dining table. It contained three or four types of nuts, and it was a brand-new, unopened package.

“I’ll take this.”

“Hey, I bought that to eat every morning.”

He doesn’t even have many teeth left, so I don’t know how he intends to eat something so hard.

“You said you didn’t have any money.”

“I don’t have any because I spent it buying that….”

“I’ll send a cleaning helper at 2 o’clock tomorrow. Is that alright?”

“Yeah.”

“I will come the day after tomorrow to collect the other half of the payment.”

“Sigh, alright then.”

I took the bag of nuts, walked out, and put it in the luggage box. He definitely has cash; he’s just saying he doesn’t. Still, I don’t pay it much mind, as taking items like this is enough.

After circling the Zone 6 alley a couple more times, I went to the Guardians’ headquarters. Although there are very rare occasions when the Guardians call Pachulso to make a request, I still have to stop by in person once a day to ask.

In front of the headquarters gate, a jailer wearing a matching red Adidas tracksuit sat alone, drinking a soda. That kind of outfit is trendy among the young jailers in their early 20s these days.

“Is there anything to request from Pachulso?”

I asked the jailer. The jailer stared at me and sipped his soda for a long time. I just stood there watching him drink.

Once he finished the soda, the jailer gestured for me to get lost.

“Clean up the flyers, you Pigeon bastard.”

I nodded, turned my bike around, and headed toward the square. The tour had already ended, so the bus was long gone.

I parked my bike under the shade next to the square and sat down to rest for a moment. I’ve been to all the places I needed to go and collected all the money I was supposed to, so my external schedule for the day is finished. My duties will end once I return to Pachulso and report to Mom and Dad. Mom and Dad decide which cleaning helper is sent where.

“Hyung.”

Jongyoon rode his bicycle over and stopped in front of me. He must be on his way back from painting the exterior wall of the house at 5-5.

“Is everything done?”

“Yeah.”

“Good work.”

The rope securing the luggage on the back of his bike looked a little loose, so I retied it tightly.

“Are you going to Pachulso?”

“Yeah. You?”

I pondered for a moment.

“I have a place I need to stop by, could you go and report to Mom and Dad for me?”

“Sure.”

Jongyoon pulled a small notebook and a pencil out of his pocket. I rattled off the things to report, and Jongyoon giggled as he took notes.

“Hyung, how do you remember all of this just like that? It’s amazing every time I see it. You haven’t even been wrong once.”

Dad passed the Pigeon job to me because I can remember all of this. Like all the cleaning helpers, I started working as a cleaning helper when I was eighteen. Then, around the time I turned twenty-five, I inherited the Pigeon job and stopped doing the cleaning helper work. Now, I go around the Nageon District and take requests from the residents.

Remembering isn’t difficult. When I think of a client’s house or face and picture a clock next to it, the information—who lives where and what time they need help—gets inputted. Next to that, items related to the request and things like how many people are needed are added, just like drawing a picture.

I finished speaking and checked what Jongyoon had written down.

“Just report it like this. Thanks.”

“Yeah. See you later.”

Jongyoon’s bicycle moved away. It would be easier to send the balance or advances I received with Jongyoon now, but rules are rules. Only the Pigeon can possess or transport compensation received for requests made in the Nageon District.

Anyway, feeling much more relaxed after passing on the report, I got on my bike with a lighter heart. I plan to return to Pachulso a bit late.

I exited the entrance to the Nageon District, which is guarded by jailers, and rode along the wire fence that circles the perimeter. The wire fence, which is about 3 meters high, is something that has been there since the days when the Nageon District was a massive quarantine facility, and we have kept maintaining it ever since. Back then, soldiers guarded it 24 hours a day to prevent the infected inside from getting out, and now, jailers guard it 24 hours a day to prevent outsiders from coming in carelessly.

As I rode, I collected flyers and letters stuck to the wire fence. These are the “flyers” the jailer was talking about. People from the Nageon District Anti-Discrimination Alliance usually come, avoid the jailers’ eyes, and stick them on the fence or push them inside; cleaning these up is the job of me and the cleaning helpers. Whoever among us sees them collects them immediately. The Nageon District residents are forbidden from even touching them.

The Nageon District Anti-Discrimination Alliance, composed of second-generation residents, has been treated as the main enemy of the Nageon District since they were expelled from here a long time ago. Besides them, “outsiders” like reporters, lawyers, broadcast PDs, and human rights activists also occasionally come by, hang around, and push business cards inside.

I took the collected items to a nearby waste disposal site and threw them away. This is also a workplace for Nageon District residents, so I have to be careful even when throwing things away.

The waste disposal site and the meat processing plant on the eastern outskirts of the wire fence are the workplaces for the majority of Nageon District residents. The purple-skinned infected never go outside the Nageon District, and the only place they go is their workplace. The factory bus picks them up at the Nageon District entrance and brings them back.

Originally, it was barely more than a dirt road for the factory bus, but as the Nageon District began receiving tourists, the surroundings were improved little by little.

In fact, even if it has been “improved,” it’s all the same. Within a 30-kilometer radius of the Nageon District, the buildings and roads are all ruins covered in weeds and monster-like trees. The state it fell into during the year the cannibalistic virus spread has been left neglected and ignored.

There are many rumors that dead bodies are hidden in abandoned villages we call the “ruined villages,” or that ghosts appear, but I don’t pay attention to such talk. To me, they are just places that are good to go when I want to be quiet.

🎈🤍

As I entered an intersection with a broken traffic light, the sound of a hornet echoed. I looked in the side mirror and reflexively frowned. The Porsche that had pulled up behind me was purple.

A purple car….

A sigh escaped me without my knowing.

I’m not trying to demean someone’s taste. They must have had an unavoidable reason. There must have been a lot of events that led to the decision to cover a car in such a color.

Since it came so close as if to ram into the back of my bike, I sped up slightly and moved aside. I gave a friendly wave to signal for them to go first.