Rainbow City

Kwak Soohwan regained consciousness a week after Choi Hoeon’s death.

However, the Kwak Soohwan who woke up was no longer the same person they once knew. Even at rest, his hands trembled uncontrollably, and he could barely swallow the food someone brought him. He showed no reaction even when Seokhwa was mentioned. Everyone thought that Kwak Soohwan had become mentally incapacitated due to the severe gunshot wounds he had suffered.

Yang Sanghoon, feeling guilty for failing to properly support Seokhwa, apologized to Kwak Soohwan, but regardless of what anyone said, Kwak Soohwan always seemed to be lost in a daze.

He still couldn’t swallow even porridge properly, dribbling it down his chin, and his immobile body grew thin as his muscles atrophied. The old Russian man stayed in Rainbow City, working to rebuild the vaccine and the burned-down labs, but he clicked his tongue every time he saw Kwak Soohwan. An ordinary person would have died long ago from the amount of blood he lost. Kwak Soohwan had been brought in with a stopped heart, and after an hour-long battle, the medical team managed to get his heart to beat faintly again.

When Kwak Soohwan’s heart started beating again, the amount of blood left in his body was less than that of a five-year-old child. The old man said it was likely that the lack of blood circulation had caused brain damage, leading to his current state of idiocy.

Emperor Penguin Lee Heechan took control of the city but did not abandon Kwak Soohwan, who had become an idiot. He bestowed upon Kwak Soohwan the rank of lieutenant general and announced to the other families that Dr. Seok was dead. It was ironic. The doctor who had developed the vaccine to free people from Adam received no reward.

After one month, then two months, Kwak Soohwan’s hands stopped trembling. He then began to slowly move his body. He started eating on his own, walking outside the shelter, and one day, he even started running.

One day, he went into the training room at dawn and began working out, trying to revive his atrophied muscles. However, no matter who spoke to him, he showed no response. He seemed to focus solely on rebuilding his body and regaining his health, like a robot unresponsive to any external stimuli.

It was on the fifth month.

Kwak Soohwan was nowhere to be seen past the morning meal time. Yang Sanghoon, worried, went to check the training room but found it silent and empty. He then checked the dining area, but Kwak Soohwan was not there either. Upon inspecting Kwak Soohwan’s room, he found the closet half open, and the neatly pressed city uniform was missing. Only traces of what had been taken remained in his backpack and around his desk.

Yang Sanghoon hurried to the control room, worried that the once brilliant man who had become an idiot might be up to something, and checked all the surveillance cameras.

Seeing the empty exterior, it seemed Kwak Soohwan had already left quite a while ago. Yang Sanghoon rewound the recorded footage and finally located Kwak Soohwan.

Early in the morning, someone had confidently walked out of the shelter. His posture was straight, and his steps sure, with no hesitation. He was headed towards the parking lot where the military jeeps were kept. Yang Sanghoon made eye contact with Kwak Soohwan through the camera, though with a slight time lag. Kwak Soohwan smiled faintly, then looked down at a piece of paper he took out from his pocket. He carefully folded it back and placed it inside his uniform as if it were a precious treasure.

He leaped over the shelter’s barbed wire fence and soon disappeared, with only the image of a man with a backpack on one shoulder lingering behind.

Yang Sanghoon realized he had been mistaken all along. Kwak Soohwan had not been focusing on restoring his body to normal. From the moment he opened his eyes, all of Kwak Soohwan’s thoughts had been on Seokhwa. His physical training was merely a means to leave this place.

Yang Sanghoon soon heard that a jeep was missing but did not order a pursuit.

He simply waited for the two of them to return to their hometown of Rainbow City.

[Rainbow City – The End]

–

150 days after Master Choi Hoeon’s death, 151 days after the announcement by the Rainbow City autonomous government.

60 days since the completion of the nationwide distribution of the ‘Eve’ vaccine.

Presently, at Khasan, Russia (a cooperating nation)

White breath puffed from the lips of a person carrying firewood.

Though it wasn’t possible to carry a lot at once, the gathered firewood was enough to last through winter if used sparingly. Thanks to the diligent collection of dry logs since autumn, Seokhwa thought they might make it through this winter.

Returning to the cabin, Seokhwa placed two pieces of firewood into the fireplace. Stirring the ashes with a poker, the still-alive embers flared up.

Seokhwa opened a cupboard and took out a can. Twisting the gear of the can opener, the rich and sweet smell of corn rose from the opened can. He poured some onto a plate and ate it with some rock-hard instant rice. From time to time, he stared blankly out of the cabin window with the curtains drawn open.

Though unlikely, Seokhwa thought cold wind was coming in through the snow. His eyes stung. He closed and reopened his eyelids tightly, and the moisture that had been blurring his vision disappeared.

Seokhwa continued eating calmly and quietly. The missing tooth of the knife on the table always caught his eye, just like it did now.

“Live.”

Every time, Kwak Soohwan’s voice echoed in his mind.

After taking a long time to finish his meal, Seokhwa walked over to the old sofa. On the table in front of the sofa, there was a pile of medicinal herbs from the mountains. As he brushed off the dirt and cut the herbs with scissors, he found himself gazing out the window again.

Inside the cabin, there was enough food to last at least half a year. There was a nearby stream that made fetching water easy. However, the butane gas canisters stacked in the kitchen were starting to run low. Although he claimed to have half a year’s worth of food, given his modest appetite, he thought he could stretch it for another two months.

Since arriving alone in Russia, Seokhwa had learned to live by himself.

The most challenging part of living alone was cutting his own hair. Even now, his hastily cut bangs were bothersome, but it wasn’t yet time to tidy them up. Seokhwa got up and fiddled with the cube that Kwak Soohwan had left behind in the cabin. Had Kwak Soohwan foreseen this? Or perhaps, he had prepared for such situations at all the places they had lived, just in case. He was always well-prepared.

His eyes, which had been staring blankly out the window, suddenly came to life. A musk deer was wandering near the cabin. If he opened the door and went outside, it would dart away, so he could only watch from inside.

As darkness enveloped the cabin, he blew out the flickering candle. If the light attracted wolves, he would be trapped inside the house all day. Seokhwa kept a pistol by his bedside and curled up.

The day he was airlifted by helicopter, Seokhwa had to immediately switch to a jeep with Yang Sanghoon. The radio in the jeep kept broadcasting orders to assassinate Dr. Seok. The Owls and the Owlets had discovered through the Colonel’s transmissions that Seokhwa was the host of the mutated Adam Virus.

Although the city was burning in places, Yang Sanghoon drove the jeep upward without a word. Half a day passed, and the radio buzzed again.

“Terminate Dr. Seok on sight. He is the sole host of the mutated Adam Virus. Master Choi Hoeon is dead, and the vaccine will be developed and distributed as scheduled.”

Fortunately, rain fell, preventing the fires in the city from spreading further. Unfortunately, the radio continued to urge Seokhwa’s death. It was late at night when they reached a place close to Russia. Seokhwa gathered two pistols and some food from the jeep and left the city alone. Yang Sanghoon had helped him escape, but traveling together any further would put Yang Sanghoon at risk.

Although the Tumen River’s width was narrow, swimming across was not an option, so Seokhwa crawled across a rickety bridge by himself. Despite the bridge’s center being worn out and the rails sloping toward the river, it could still bear the weight of one person. He had crossed with Kwak Soohwan but returned alone.

On the day they parted, he and Yang Sanghoon exchanged no words. But Seokhwa felt it.

Yang Sanghoon probably believed Kwak Soohwan was dead. In contrast, Seokhwa had stopped thinking about death. He didn’t want to delve into it deeply. If Kwak Soohwan were alive, he wouldn’t stay still after hearing the radio orders to kill Seokhwa.

He was always that kind of person. He valued Seokhwa over himself, willing to lay down his life to save him. This life, lonely and solitary as it was, was a life that Kwak Soohwan had saved. So, Seokhwa couldn’t throw it away carelessly; he had to live.

Seokhwa spent the night half asleep, half awake. At dawn, he packed his pistol and changed into thick clothes. He loaded the jeep with the herbs he had cut over several days and the ointment he had made.

Out of habit, he glanced at his reflection in the jeep’s mirror, but his nosebleed had stopped long ago. His body temperature, too, was now close to normal. The bleeding that had occasionally troubled him subsided a week after arriving at the cabin. He had wished for death. Shaking his head, Seokhwa started the jeep and drove downhill.

The jeep had been taken from the buildings where he and others had lived in Khasan. The leader of a nearby gang of marauders, known as “Razboiniki,” had reportedly starved to death while tied to a car. No one had helped him despite seeing him bound. After that incident, the marauders stopped harassing people. Seokhwa traded herbs and ointments for some oil and clothing from the people living in the lower regions.

People thought Seokhwa was a mute pharmacist. He minimized interactions because he wasn’t sure about his body’s condition. Seokhwa bowed in greeting and drove back to the cabin. Some people showed kindness toward him, but his pistol made them hesitant to approach. Months ago, a Russian man had tried to assault Seokhwa and nearly got shot. Since then, no one ventured near the cabin. Even at night, wolves deterred intruders from approaching the cabin. For Seokhwa, wolves were both a fearsome presence and protective allies.

Back home, Seokhwa checked if the broken bottles were still securely placed at the entrance and windows. Then he lay down on the bed.

Another monotonous day was passing. The only difference was that it had been 151 days without Kwak Soohwan.

Tomorrow will be the 152nd day without him.

***

It was unusual, but there was commotion outside. Darkness had long since retreated, and light flickered between the curtains.

Seokhwa rose cautiously and peeked through the curtains. It seemed that the people from below had come to fetch water from the stream. Feeling relieved, Seokhwa walked to the sink. He washed his face clean with the bartered soap, brushed his teeth with a worn toothbrush, and grabbed the radio before breakfast.

Seokhwa walked to the spot closest to the city where the signal was best. He always kept the pistol at his side. Extending the radio antenna, he searched for a signal.

Rainbow City seemed to be entering a period of stability, as he could occasionally catch city broadcasts if he positioned the radio just right.

The propaganda meant to brainwash people had long disappeared from the broadcasts. Seokhwa took out the cell phone from his pocket. The battery was dead, so he couldn’t even look at Kwak Soohwan’s photos anymore.

If he hadn’t unlocked the password, if he hadn’t gone to Dangsa Road… Seokhwa thought these things every time he saw the phone. The password set by the Second Master was fitting to the end. There was no affection for his mother or remorse for his child. The password he set was “Agate,” a mineral he loved dearly. Translating the word to binary and taking the last digit gave 11101. The requirement of a six-digit password was a trap.

The Second Master was obsessed only with minerals. Perhaps that gene remained in Seokhwa, leading to his own obsession with stones. But now, he no longer collected stones.

Looking back, he thought that Kwak Soohwan’s obsession might have been with procreation. With near-perfect genes, it was his duty to evolve through reproduction. In retrospect, even when Seokhwa asked for his semen, Kwak Soohwan had just laughed it off and never actually provided it.

A perfect mutant created by the city.

Therefore, he might have recognized his obsessive traits and controlled himself out of a sense of rebellion.

Seokhwa turned off the radio and stood up. He intended to return to the cabin to make more ointment and sort the herbs. Walking unsteadily, Seokhwa was alive but felt dead inside.

For the first few months, Seokhwa dreamt of Kwak Soohwan. Waking up from dreams of reuniting with him and holding each other made him want to end his life. After that, Kwak Soohwan didn’t appear in his dreams anymore.

Live.

That word clung to him like a spell, binding him like a curse.

Seokhwa stopped in his tracks as he headed back to the cabin, hearing the noisy voices of people again. He decided to wait until they left before returning. There was nothing to steal except food. Sure enough, when he went down to the cabin much later, the place was a mess. Someone had stolen food and scattered herbs all over the floor. There was nothing to be angry about. He no longer had such simple emotions left.

Seokhwa cleaned and swept the floor, then looked out the window again. A cold wind blew through his eyes. A musk deer stood in the blurred distance. For once, Seokhwa wanted to go outside and see the musk deer. Usually, it would run away as soon as he opened the door, but today it stood still.

Wrapping a blanket around his shoulders, Seokhwa sat on the wooden terrace next to the front door. As expected, the musk deer ran into the forest. Crunch, the sound of dry leaves being stepped on was heard even though the deer stood still.

Seokhwa turned his gaze away from the deer. The deer ran deeper into the forest. In the direction Seokhwa looked, a man in uniform was walking towards him. Carrying a backpack on one shoulder, the dry branches on the ground posed no obstacle to his steps.

From the moment their eyes met, the man walked directly towards Seokhwa without looking away. The blanket fell from Seokhwa’s shoulders as he stood up from the chair. He didn’t even think of picking it up, just staring at him. Was he seeing an illusion now? Or had he come to grant him permission to stop living and die?

Kwak Soohwan stood in front of Seokhwa.

Seokhwa didn’t dare reach out. He feared that if he did, Kwak Soohwan would turn into a mirage, and he would wake up from a dream.

“I’m here, Hyung.”

He took a breath.

Was this his voice? Seokhwa remembered it as always being clear, but now it was heavy with sadness. His face was obscured by longing, blurred vision making it hard to see him clearly. Blinking to clear the tears did little; they just kept coming.

“I’ve been really sick. Can you believe it?”

He smiled somewhat sheepishly.

“Sorry for being late.”

“…”

“Sorry for leaving you alone.”

“…”

Speaking nonchalantly, Kwak Soohwan smiled, but his face soon turned serious. As if he couldn’t hold back any longer, he breathed in deeply and contorted his face like a child about to cry.

“Dr. Seok, Seokhwa, Seokhwa Hyung.”

He called Seokhwa by every name, as if every possible name for Seokhwa was his own.

Only then did Seokhwa embrace the crying Kwak Soohwan. He brushed his own cheek against Soohwan’s, cold from the Russian air, and wrapped his arms tightly around his solid body, as he remembered. Unable to hold back, Kwak Soohwan also enveloped Seokhwa in his arms.

They were wrong. Pain is not the beginning of evolution.

Even if one is free from all viruses, that does not make them the true new humanity. Viruses will mutate again, and even the one called a perfect mutant nearly lost his life. There is never perfect evolution in the world.

The beginning of evolution stems from survival.

Those who want to survive have various reasons. Family, friends, or lovers—they clung to life for them, and the people of the city also fought off death to live with them. Because I was alive, I could meet him, and because he lived, he could return to me.

For Seokhwa, Kwak Soohwan was the reason for survival. For Kwak Soohwan, Seokhwa was the reason for survival.

That’s why they could evolve once more.

“…Soohwan.”

Like a newborn making its first sound, Seokhwa called his name for the first time in 152 days.

“Welcome back.”