Chapter Text
Kim Rok Soo raises his arms, covered by the long sleeves of his black shirt, above his head and stretches his sore back and neck. The last week had been complicated at the agency and after several days in which his team was called out almost constantly, the tired team leader finally finishes the reports of all the missions previously carried out.
Kim Rok Soo looks around, realising that he is once again the last one in the office he shares with his teammates (subordinates). It's not a surprising sight since the workaholic usually works overtime, not only because he's the leader, but also because unlike the others he doesn't have anyone waiting for him at home.
It's better to do the work myself than have others do it when they have family waiting.
After a few minutes to stretch all his aching limbs, both from battles and from sitting and writing reports, Kim Rok Soo gets up from his chair. As he passes the coat rack by the door, he picks up his jacket but leaves everything else for another day.
Not tomorrow. If all goes well, I'll have the day off tomorrow.
Due to an extremely busy week, his teammates insisted that he take the next day off with the assurance that they would call him if there was an emergency.
Kim Rok Soo agreed, after they insisted a lot, and he thought it was the perfect opportunity to go to the underground library and find some books to read.
Rok Soo could easily spend all his free time just sleeping or staring at the wall, but lately, every time he passes the door to the archive, he feels that he needs to go in and have a look.
Kim Rok Soo likes to read, one of his hobbies before the apocalypse was reading web novels on his mobile phone, a hobby he still does from time to time, but which has lost its charm in recent years.
I hope I'll find an interesting book.
Kim Rok Soo passes through the familiar grey corridors, observing the few people who pass him who are still on duty. In a world plagued by vicious monsters that kill everything that moves, agencies like his, responsible for killing them, or at least protecting civilians, never really close down. There are at least five teams on active duty every day at all hours, but unfortunately, they are not always enough.
The agency's building was once a skyscraper full of ordinary salaried employees working on mundane matters, where the bosses sat on the top floors having meetings with important investors while enjoying the view of the city. Now, like everything else, the building is practically a ruin. Or more accurately, a ruin that was quickly repaired to serve a new purpose.
The grey walls with more cracks than Rok Soo cares to count, exposed bricks, and light bulbs that still work but occasionally come loose or fall on a person's head. The top floors that weren't destroyed are empty. It's hazardous to have buildings with more than three floors. Like all the buildings rebuilt after monsters invaded the Earth, the luxury now is underground floors. Everything important is stored three or four levels underground.
Kim Rok Soo takes the stairs, because lifts are very risky when the electricity fails at least five times a day, down to the second underground floor. The archives, or rather, the library, occupy the entire floor, with shelves full of books, from literary classics to children's picture books. One of the many collections scattered around the world, built just a few years after the apocalypse began, at a time when humans were beginning to adapt to being hunted and becoming the hunters themselves. In this space that preserves stories of a past world not ruined by mortal beings, Rok Soo wanders among the bookshelves and at a slow pace curiously observes the choices offered to him.
He first disregards any educational or classic books.
Too complicated and boring.
Then he disregards romance, which isn't exactly his favourite genre, and horror simply because nothing written can scare him as much as reality.
For a second, he feels the air change, as if it has become heavier, before a chill runs down his spine and raises the hairs on his neck. Rok Soo looks around at the unpopulated, silent place before putting on his jacket confident that it's only cold.
The air conditioning hasn't been in its best condition lately.
Wrapping himself up, the man turns back to his search. His reddish-brown eyes scan the piles of books until one name catches his interest.
[The Birth of a Hero]
The title doesn't say much, but it sounds like fantasy, a literary genre he's a fan of. Rok Soo picks up the first volume, noticing the simple cover, just black with the letters of the title in silver and the author's name [Nelan Barrow] underneath.
Not even a summary on the back cover...
Even without any indication of what the story is about, Rok Soo finds himself interested and flicks through the first few pages.
I think I've chosen what I'm going to read this morning.
Nodding to himself, Rok Soo picks up four more volumes of the collection. Since he doesn't want to use the [Record] for leisure reading, five books are enough for one day.
With his reading of choice in hand, he stops at the desk near the entrance door, or the exit door, depending on the situation. Next to it are bags that can be used by the people who request the books, and as he places the volumes inside, Rok Soo takes the paper file and writes down the name of the books he has taken out, the date, his name and work number. With everything done, he leaves the archive without realising that the words he has written on the sheet have started to disappear as if the ink from the pen had been absorbed into the paper.
On arriving home, Kim Rok Soo puts his book bag down on the kitchen counter, before opening the mini fridge to check that he still has enough leftovers for a few days. In this world, money has fallen in value, at least for people who didn't have it before. Most jobs pay with food, water, hygiene products and in his agency's case, housing.
His house is a small flat with a kitchen, bathroom and living room that also serves as a bedroom. It doesn't have windows because it's four floors underground, but it does have the necessary plumbing, clean running water, more or less reliable electricity and limited internet access. It may not be the best, but at least it's not the worst. When he was hired, the agency was still a small and poorly formed thing, so Kim Rok Soo, like many others, lived in bunkers with rationed food and water, with one cold-water shower for several people and no electricity. A few years later the company built some flats underground for its employees, and Kim Rok Soo found himself sharing a room with four other people, one of whom was Choi Jung Soo. After becoming team leader, he was given an individual "house" as part of the payment.
Kim Rok Soo shakes his head to rid it of unnecessary thoughts and memories and moves on to the task at hand. He reheats one of his pans with food left over from previous meals on the gas hob and leaves it unattended while he goes to the bathroom to change into more comfortable clothes.
On his return, he removes the hot food and switches off the flame. He picks up a fork and knowing it's his last portion and not wanting to wash any more dishes, he just eats straight from the pan. Having eaten his dinner and done everything that needed to be done, Rok Soo settles into his bed and is taken to the world of dreams.
The next day he wakes up to the sound of his alarm at his usual working time. Rok Soo stares blankly into his bedroom/living room for what seems like hours before getting up and preparing to spend the day at home and reading.
After a light breakfast and a quick shower, Rok Soo, dressed in a baggy grey long-sleeved shirt and black sweatpants, sits on the floor against the bed and picks up the first volume of the book.
The hours quickly pass, with Rok Soo reading without distraction, only taking brief breaks to go to the toilet and eat. The story is gripping and very detailed, giving the reader the feeling that they are in that world alongside the hero and fighting together with his companions against evil. [Choi Han] is a flawed and volatile protagonist, with traumas but the ability to have a good heart and help people, even after his horrific experience in that world where he was thrown without warning. Volume 1 is finished and Rok Soo moves on to the next one, and when he finishes that one, he continues reading the one after that.
Hours after his last meal, and knowing that it must be past midnight, Kim Rok Soo struggles to keep his eyes open. He's at the last volume he requested, just as Henituse territory is invaded by [Clopeh Sekka]. It's exciting and he finds himself interested to see how it ends, even though he's sure it won't end very well.
His eyelids are heavy, and the letters blend together. On the floor of his bedroom/living room, having already been to other reading positions, Kim Rok Soo finally gives up and puts the book down. He lies down on the cold floor of his flat.
Just a few minutes to rest my eyes.
Kim Rok Soo closes his eyes and his body relaxes. He is carried away by the darkness and falls asleep.
-Oppa wake up!
Kim Rok Soo hears something in the distance, like an echo in a tunnel. The voice is unfamiliar and the words tickle his ears. Familiar, recognisable, but still strange in a way he can't understand. It seems like an eternity, but suddenly his drowsy consciousness violently returns to his body and Kim Rok Soo realises that something isn't right.
It's extremely wrong.
His body is heavy and his muscles ache as if he had been used as a monster's chew toy. His head hurts and is foggy. His mouth is dry and his whole-body shivers with cold. It feels like the flu, but in the midst of his slow, throbbing brain he remembers that the surface he's on isn't the floor of his house, but a bed, slightly more comfortable than his own, with warm sheets and blankets that don't help pass the cold.
Where am I? Have I fallen ill and been sent to the infirmary?
Small, cold hands touch his warm skin. Sweat collects on his temples and his mind goes blank with the sharp pain that runs through it.
-Oppa, you are too hot. I'll call Mum.
The words are assimilated. He realises their meaning, but it hurts too much to think, to understand what's around him.
Long moments of silence pass after the cold hands leave his forehead and light footsteps are heard until they disappear. Rok Soo's rapid, noisy breathing echoes in his own ears.
He realises that someone is entering, with heavier footsteps. The person approaches hurriedly and a hand that is larger, rougher and warmer than the other touches his forehead gently. Kim Rok Soo finally opens his eyes. His headache becomes more painful and his vision is slightly blurred by the tears flowing from his eyes.
In front of him stands a woman, not too old but not young, her skin is tanned and her long brown hair is tied up in a practical plait. Her light brown eyes pierce Rok Soo's glassy ones with concern, but also resignation. She very calmly runs her hand over Rok Soo's face and says softly:
-Sleep, my son. Don't worry about anything.
My mum is dead.
This is Rok Soo's first thought when he hears the sentence, but something about this woman relaxes him, as if she really were his mother. The pain becomes unbearable and Rok Soo gives up on being awake and is lulled into a feverish sleep.
The second time Kim Rok Soo wake up, the pain in his head changed from a sharp incessant pounding to something quieter. An annoying tingle, but not painful. His head seems less cloudy and his thoughts clearer. His body is heavy and weak, but not as debilitating as before. He's still in the unfamiliar bed and the blankets are starting to get too warm.
When he opens his eyes, Rok Soo notices that he is alone, but what worries him is not that fact, but that he doesn't recognise the room he is in.
It's not the infirmary.
The room isn't big, perhaps just a little smaller than his living room/bedroom. In addition to the bed he's lying on, which is against the right-hand wall, there's another bed made up against the left-hand wall. Between the two beds and below a window that emits sunlight, there is a wooden table with a chair in front of it, full of disorganised papers, pencils and a small knife that looks sharp.
Noticing the overused table, something awakens in Kim Rok Soo. An unknown memory.
He finds himself sitting at the table, his body small and weak, with a nagging headache, and a blanket wrapped around his back.
His hand grasps the sharp knife and with practice, even trembling, passes over the tip of the pencil to point it. There is a sense of urgency. His body, which is not his, but is, at the same time, rushes through its task as if seconds were the difference between life and death. And suddenly the headache increases and a grotesque, horrible voices pass through his brain like an avalanche.
Symbols and words that he has never seen in his life, but that he swears he understands. And his body, on autopilot, writes. He writes on the sheets spread out on the table without stopping. And the voices, symbols and letters blend together and the only thing he knows is that he has to write. Get the information down on paper or he'll go mad. The force of the pencil is strong, the information passes irregularly, but never stops. Until the pencil breaks and the pain increases, the voices seem even more angry and violent.
His body irregularly picks up the knife and a sudden thought of sticking the sharp end in his head and ending it all, comes.
For seconds, before all thoughts pass and only the voices and symbols remain, his body moves as if on autopilot and he sharpens his pencil and starts writing again. He doesn't know how long it takes, but the pain finally eases and the voices calm down, the unrecognisable symbols that he thinks he should recognise, but he doesn't, flash across his vision for a few seconds before everything stops.
His breathing quickens and someone walks up behind him and puts an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into their slightly larger chest. His voice is low and he comforts him, running his hand over his back affectionately.
As quickly as the memory comes, it goes and the irritating tingling passes into a more palpable, more painful pressure, but it's still not horrible. The memory isn't his, but he feels it is. Kim Rok Soo has known that something isn't right ever since he woke up. Not just because of the illness that haunts his body, but because he doesn't feel like he's in his body. The illness from before clouded the feeling, but now, more awake, he realises. His hands and arms are skinny, thin and small. Pale, but without scars. His muscles, which he gained after many years of training and fighting monstrous beings, have disappeared and are now non-existent. His hair, which has always been short, now falls to his shoulders.
This isn't him, but at the same time it is. His brain floods him with short, basic memories that aren't as exhausting as the others. Memories of him with his family, with his father, mother and siblings, memories of places he's never been and people he's never spoken to.
On the wall opposite the table, right next to a door, is a wardrobe. He knows that it contains his clothes and his brother's clothes, and he knows that there is a mirror on the inside of one of the doors.
Carefully he moves his body, which apart from the fact that it's sore and weak from the illness, doesn't feel any different from his previous body. He retreats into the covers and shudders at the cold, then stands up, leaning on the table. The distance is not big, but Rok Soo feels tired when he reaches the wardrobe. His legs are very weak and he supports himself on the bed so as not to fall.
He opens the door and looks in. The sight shouldn't be surprising since he's already established that this body isn't the one he had before, but he's still slightly surprised as he stares into the mirror.
The first thing he notices is that he's young. He looks no older than sixteen, although his memory tells him he's eighteen. He is thin and pale, the body of someone who has suffered from a debilitating illness since birth. His features are not very different from those of the other body, only younger. His long, greasy hair is still black and his glassy eyes are still a reddish brown, his face is slightly more expressive than before, red from fever, a pasty yellow colour and dripping with sweat. He's also shorter. What matters most to him is that the horrible scars from before are nowhere to be seen. His long-sleeved shirt is baggy, too baggy, and his trousers fall slightly off his waist.
I've changed my mind, I'm not thin, I'm scrawny.
He runs his hand over his face to wipe away the sweat and remove strands of hair from his vision. The texture of his skin looks pasty, but underneath he can feel that his hand is smooth, with just a few writing calluses on his right hand.
Perhaps it's because this body is so weak that it can't do any work.
And as if the body had heard his thought, his chest suddenly tightens. A horrible pain forms in his lungs and he falls to the floor, clutching his shirt tightly. His throat closes up and the air is trapped. Then he starts coughing. He doesn't know what he's coughing up, at this point, it might even be his lungs, he just knows he can't stop.
On the floor of this unfamiliar room, Rok Soo coughs like his life depends on it. He is so disturbed by the pain, the tightness, the roughness of his throat, the violence of the cough that resonates in his lungs, that he doesn't notice people entering the room until someone pulls him gently into a warm, solid chest. A rough hand passes over his back.
The pain subsides moments later and the tightness in his chest and throat relaxes. His mouth tastes of blood and his throat is so sore that Rok Soo shudders when he swallows, just as his muscles contract with pain when he breathes more deeply. The person holding him, as gently as firmly, slips his arms around his knees and shoulders and picks him up.
Kim Rok Soo recognises this man, even though he has never seen him. He is his father, or at least the father of this body, who with practice, gently lays him on the bed and wraps him in sheets and blankets. Then the man sits on the edge of the bed and runs his strong, rough and calloused hands over Rok Soo's face, forehead and hair, a very gentle caress coming from a man with a fighter's hand.
-Roksu - calls a deep voice - it's all right, breathe.
The deep voice calms him, his brain recognises the name. Said differently, but still similar to its original. He doesn't want to think about how the language he speaks sounds strange, like hearing his mother tongue after many years of speaking other languages. He can understand it, but there's still a noise that says it's not Korean, or English. But for now, it doesn't matter, he's too tired.
A towel passes his mouth. Rok Soo opens his eyes and sees a child, a little girl, standing in front of him with a white cloth with bloody stains on it. Blood that he has coughed up. The little girl smiles at him, more like a habit than real joy. Her blue eyes water with worry and sadness for her older brother.
Rok Soo compares the child in front of him with what he saw in the mirror and with the features he remembers of the woman who appeared the first time he woke up.
His mum.
Yes, she looks like the woman, with the same straight brown hair, a healthy tan colour of a child who plays a lot in the street, cute round cheeks, but underneath the similarities to his mother, he notices points that are very similar to the face he saw in the mirror moments before. Except for the celestial-blue eyes.
-Roksu
He shifts his gaze to the man next to him. The man who keeps running his hands, which can destroy a person with sheer force alone, through his hair. He finds the same blue as the child, celestial, but clouded with worry. His face is more similar to Rok Soo's than the girl's, not exactly Korean but not foreign either, with short straight black hair. His forehead is furrowed in thought, or doubt, or worry. His large, muscular body from years of practice matches the tanned skin of a warrior. But he doesn't smell of blood. No, the smell of blood is from Rok Soo, the man, his father, smells of fire, food and bread.
A cook, a baker.
His mind provides.
It smells like home.
-Alice - the man whispers softly to the little girl - go and get a bowl of cold water and towels, please
The child, Alice, his younger sister, looks at her father and nods before leaving.
-Roksu
His name, because it is his name now, is said softly, carefully, as if he were talking to someone who is no longer here. Perhaps because Kim Rok Soo, or the body he inhabits, really is as much alive as dead. But Kim Rok Soo won't give up on this life, even if he doesn't know where he is, why or even if his illness is painful.
After all, being alive is better than being dead.
With this conviction, he endeavours to lift his arm, which seems to weigh as much as the world, until it shakes where his father's hand rests on his head. He squeezes it with the rest of his strength, as lightly as if it were a feather, before dropping it in exhaustion. But the man, who has probably watched his sick son for years without being able to do anything about it, quickly takes the fragile hand and wraps it in his warmer, stronger one. Reddish-brown eyes meet celestial-blue ones that fill with tears, now with relief that his son is still alive and more aware than usual.
Alice returns with a bowl of water, too big for his small body. When she gets close, her father helps her by setting it down on the floor and running his free hand through her hair. The little girl takes a towel she has brought and soaks it in the cold water, wrings it out and concentrates on her sick brother's forehead.
The cold water relieves the heat of the fever and Rok Soo allows himself to relax in the company of these people who are, for all intents and purposes, his new family. The tiredness is enormous and seconds later Rok Soo is asleep.
Rok Soo wakes up for the third time in this new space with the room lit by oil lamps, old things that were suddenly used once again when the apocalypse hit the earth, before electricity was established again. He's not alone this time. A boy, not much older than him, is dressing by the cupboard. He can tell from his bare torso and baggy trousers that he trains, perhaps not like the man from before, his father, but at least he's healthy and strong. He puts on a loose, comfortable shirt and turns around.
In the light of the lamps, Rok Soo can't quite make out his appearance, but the boy approaches him quickly, before kneeling down on the floor beside his bed to look at Rok Soo still lying there. He has short brown hair with a few strands that look golden in the orange light, light brown eyes that show relief, and a warm smile. He looks more like the woman from before, his mother, than the man, his father.
His memory offers a name and a relationship, his older brother by two years, Erno.
-Dad told me you had a coughing fit this afternoon. How are you feeling?
He talks as if Rok Soo is made of glass and even raising his voice would break it. But from the little information he has, this boy has always been like this with him. His brother is protective and caring.
Rok Soo tries to speak for the first time.
-Hungry and thirsty.
His voice is hoarse, but it's soft underneath and not too thin like his mother's, but not too thick like his father's and brother's either. The words flow as if the language wasn't foreign, but natural.
-I'll bring you some food and water then. Try not to fall asleep.
Rok Soo nods slowly. His mind clearer and his head less painful. His body still shivers, and sweat clings to his skin, he probably wouldn't be able to get up as weak as his body still is.
I'm not even thinking of trying.
He doesn't want to repeat the experience from before.
Minutes passed as Rok Soo stared into the flames of the lamp attached to the right wall, next to the bed, before Erno returned with a tray. His brother helps him to sit down using his arm and chest for support and places the tray on his lap. The food is nothing special, just a soup that seems slightly watery and a glass of water.
Carefully and slowly, Rok Soo picks up the spoon and brings the hot liquid to his mouth. It tastes of carrot and potato. His body craves more and Rok Soo continues to eat until there is nothing left. The warm body he's leaning on picks up the glass of water and offers it to him. He accepts, being thirsty even after the soup. Rok Soo drinks slowly, but in the end, he is satisfied.
-You ate more than usual, I'm happy. - says Erno
- Thank you
Rok Soo thanks you for your compliment, for your care, for supporting him.
Kim Rok Soo was an orphan, his parents died early enough for him to have only vague and blurred memories, his uncle was cruel and violent, the orphanage he was taken to was poor and cold, the staff was always tired and the children traumatised, violent or apathetic, like him. The only family Kim Rok Soo had was with Lee Soo Hyuk and Choi Jung Soo.
Kim Rok Soo was thirty-six years old and his life was monotonous, as he just survived each day because dying wasn't an option. His family in Korea was dead, he had no one. In this house as Roksu, he has a father, a mother and four siblings, even if he doesn't know where he is, even with his illness, he prefers it here, with this family.
He relaxes against Erno who removes the tray. And once again he is swallowed up by sleep.
Rok Soo, still sleepy, realises that small hands are touching his face.
-Oppa. - Calls a childish voice
Rok Soo opens his eyes and faces a pair of familiar celestial eyes, pleased that he has woken up.
-Are you better? - Alice asks softly
Rok Soo feels his new body is still quite weak and sore, but the headaches and fever that plagued him the day before seem more under control today.
-Yes - he replies in a hoarse voice.
-Good - says the smiling girl - I'll bring you some breakfast.
-Thank you. Be careful. - The boy adds, afraid that she'll hurt herself bringing him some food.
-Yes, Oppa. See you soon.
Alice excitedly, in a way that only young children can be, leaves her brother's room and closes the door. Rok Soo is left alone in the same place as yesterday. He uses this time to analyse some of the memories he received from the body's previous owner. Apart from the basics like name and age, he has some knowledge about his family and health condition.
Roksu has always been a sickly child. Ever since he was born, something was wrong. From high fevers, to body weaknesses, fainting spells, coughing fits, disturbing headaches and moments of dissociation, he suffered from a bit of everything during his eighteen years of life. His parents sought out doctors, not priests because those are very expensive, to help him with little success.
Roksu has a weak body, but more than that he suffers auditory and visual hallucinations that cause a lot of pain and suffering. As a way of minimising these attacks, he writes down what he hears and sees, and although this has resulted in reducing the duration of the attacks themselves, it has increased their frequency.
Except for his illness, Roksu leads a normal life. His father, Seojun, was a mercenary until his early twenties. A strong, cruel man who would do anything for money. Until he met Tyyne, the daughter of poor peasants who had a dream of opening a bakery. Tyyne wasn't extremely beautiful or had an absurdly different personality from all the other women, but Seojun still fell in love and left his profession to help his wife achieve her dream. They succeeded and as well as opening a bakery they had five children. The eldest, twenty-year-old Erno, the ever-sickly eighteen-year-old Roksu, the first girl in the family, seventeen-year-old Rhee, the middle child, eleven-year-old Aulis and the youngest, just seven-year-old Alice.
This was some of the information that the memory of this body gave him and that Kim Rok Soo found very useful, especially as he intended to live on as Roksu. Which wasn't too difficult, both Kim Rok Soo and Roksu have similar personalities and because of his illness, Roksu has no one close to him apart from his family.
In addition to the necessary information, Kim Rok Soo, or Roksu, searches his mind for where he is. He knows he's not in Korea, or even on Earth, because even if he was ill he would recognise his apocalyptic world. Kim Rok Soo has also read enough books to know about transmigration, so with this information, he tries to find out more about this world. Whether this world is like the previous one, before the apocalypse, or an even older version.
His answer is none because suddenly a familiar name comes to mind.
Henituse County
The territory his parents chose to build a bakery and raise a family in was Henituse County, more precisely the town where the Count live, Rain City.
In the book, [Birth of a Hero], after killing the murderers who killed the villagers who took him in as a family, Choi Han, distraught, sets off to inform the Count of the attack on Harris Village, having taken three days to travel to Rain City, when a carriage would take about a week. In the city, the protagonist meets Cale Henituse, the minor villain, who drunkenly disrespects Choi Han's dead family and ends up being brutally beaten.
This is the same territory, which before Rok Soo fell asleep in the book, was being invaded, with little hope of emerging victorious.
Roksu hears footsteps and the door to his room opens, letting two girls in. Alice is holding a glass of water and Rhee a tray with a bowl and a plate. Rhee is a version of Alice ten years older, with long straight light brown hair, tied up in a high ponytail, tanned skin, an elegant and strong body from working in the bakery and celestial blue eyes that are wiser, more mischievous and less innocent. The two are a perfect blend of their mother's and father's characteristics.
Rhee helps Roksu to sit on the bed by adjusting the pillows, after putting the tray down on the table already occupied by scribbled papers. Alice, seeing her brother in a better position to eat, offers him the glass she brought and helps her older sister put the tray on his lap.
-Today I made oatmeal and stole some of Dad's cinnamon to put on top - conspires Rhee with Roksu as she sits on the end of his bed with a proud smile.
-Thanks- says Roksu with a slight smile.
He takes the hot bowl and eats it slowly, enjoying the slight flavour that the spice brings to the oatmeal.
-I helped spread the butter on the bread- says Alice, who sits in the chair at the table with a happy expression.
-Good job -compliments the boy
-You look better than usual, Oppa - says Rhee with a calculating look.
-I am. What day is it?
-The 28th, Monday. You've been ill for two days. - replies the oldest of the girls
-What month and year? - Roksu asks casually as she eats her oats
-Did your brain finally fry from the fever? - asks Rhee sarcastically
Ahh yes, Rhee is also an idiot most of the time.
Roksu vaguely remembers that his sister seems very mature and responsible on the surface, but in reality, she has a sharp tongue and loves sarcasm. Roksu, then as the former owner of this body, ignores the statement and just stares at her waiting for an answer.
-January of the year seven hun- hundred and ei-eighty-one of the calen-calendar Felix - replies Alice with some difficulty.
Rhee snorts because Alice has answered for her.
-Thank you, Alice. - Roksu thanks her externally calmly
Internally he's resigned. If he remembers correctly, [The Birth of a Hero] begins on 28 March in the year 781 of the Felix calendar.
It's just too many coincidences. It feels like I'm really inside the story. But the attack on Harris Village won't happen for another two months. At that point, Choi Han is supposed to show up and beat up Cale before leaving with Ron and Beacrox to seek revenge on Arm.
-Now that you know the date and have your food, I'm going back to work - says Rhee before smiling mischievously and adding - Some people have to work for a living, unlike sick idiots.
She also loves to rub it in my face that I'm so weak that I spend most of my time in bed. Although if I'm right, Rhee does care about her brother, she just has a strange way of showing it.
-Take care of Alice, I'm going back to the bakery and help Mum with the customers - She finishes the last line without waiting for a reply and leaves
Roksu looks at the seven-year-old who stares at him. Because of his illness, unlike all the other siblings, Roksu doesn't help his parents in the bakery, yet the former owner of this body felt bad about doing nothing while the whole family helped. As a compromise, his mother decided that he could look after Alice until she was old enough to work, as long as he was fever-free and conscious.
Roksu, receiving this information from his memories as well as some recollections of how he used to entertain the child, realises that it's not too difficult, so he relaxes and goes back to his food. Alice stares at him silently until he finishes everything and puts the tray down on the table.
-What do you want me to teach you today? - asks Roksu, as his former body owner did for more than three years
-Today I want to draw. - says Alice seriously
-Get your things while I go to the loo. - Agrees the boy as he removes the warm blankets from his legs.
-Don't you want some help, Oppa?
-I think I can manage.
She looks at him with scepticism atypical of a child, but leaves the room in search of her drawing materials. Roksu puts his bare feet down on the cold wooden floor, before noticing the slippers by the bed. He shivers with cold.
As a test, he supports himself and tries to get up, keeping his hands close to the bed just in case. When he realises he's not going to fall, he tries walking. His muscles tremble with the effort, but with the help of the bed and then the wardrobe, which Roksu opens to take out a dressing gown, he escapes from the bedroom into a corridor with several windows on one side and doors on the other.
The door on the left is my parent's room, the one on the right is Aulis's and the door after that is Alice and Rhee's room. At the end of the corridor on the right, there's a door that leads to the living room and kitchen. At the end of the corridor to the left, there are stairs to the ground floor, where there is a bathroom.
Roksu follows the path that his mind indicates and walks down the stairs, leaning on the bannister before opening the door. Roksu's family isn't rich, they're not poor either, but unlike the descriptions the novel gives of Cale's room and bathroom, this one is definitely much poorer and corresponds to what Roksu expected.
The bath is a large basin under a tap, with no hot water option, the sink is a cupboard with a bowl and above it is a square mirror that reflects how disgusting Roksu feels because of the sweat that has accumulated on his body while he was ill and because of his greasy hair. The toilet is a bucket with a hole that leads to the cesspit under the house. In short, it's an old bathroom.
Even if I have to use cold water, I'm going to have a bath today, I look awful.
After doing his business and trying out the temperature of the water, Roksu looks at the bath contemplating whether he should get into the cold water. He really wants to take a bath, but he doesn't feel like freezing in the process.
He hears a knock on the door and opens it to find his brother Aulis. He's tall for an eleven-year-old boy, about as tall as Roksu, with the same black hair colour but light brown eyes. His features are very similar to his father's but still retain a softness left over from childhood.
-Hyung, are you up yet? - asks the surprised boy
-Yes.
Aulis looks at the bathroom and the bathtub that Roksu has started to fill before realising how cold the water is.
-I'll heat some water for you Hyung! - says the boy suddenly
-It's okay
-It's not, the water's freezing. Hyung, you can't take a cold bath or you'll get even sicker.
Aulis helps her older brother back to his room and tells him to sit on the bed.
-When there's hot water I'll let you know, just sit there and teach Alice how to draw. - orders the younger brother with habit
-All right - agrees Roksu, not angry at being reprimanded by a child.
Aulis is very keen to help me. And it's not as if he's wrong.
Aulis is the youngest boy in the family, and unlike Rhee, who treats her sick brother with sarcastic words and rare acts of affection, he practically idolises and pampers Roksu. This isn't surprising, since he spent his childhood being looked after by his brother, who is seven years older, just like Alice. It was supposed to be Rhee's job, as the girl of the family, but with her outgoing, rude and sarcastic personality, her parents thought it would be a more suitable job for the quieter, sicker member of the family.
In this world slightly similar to Earth before the age of industrialisation (if you exclude magic, aura, ancient powers and races of magical creatures), the children have the same upbringing as their parents. With a father who was a former mercenary and a mother who was the daughter of farmers, learning to read and write was never on the agenda as it was practically useless. So Erno, Rhee and Aulis learnt to fight, with their father, with, their bodies, swords and knives. Intensive training, so that if they found themselves in danger, they could save themselves, since unless you hire mercenaries, which is impossible with the family's finances, a person's safety when leaving the city depends on themselves. As well as physical training, they also learnt how to cook, bake bread and cakes, farm and serve customers from both their father and mother. Everything necessary to help out in the bakery and inherit it in the future.
Erno, as the first son, helps his father in the kitchen, makes bread with the skill of years of training, helps with the baking of cakes, and decorates them with a delicacy that doesn't come so easily to his father. The bakery is mostly frequented by ordinary people who are simply looking for bread (it is a bakery, after all, not a pastry shop), because everything with sugar is expensive. But a few years ago, Erno asked his father to try making some simple cake recipes. It was a bit of a gamble, if it didn't sell the cost would be extremely heavy on the family's pockets, but contrary to the gloomy forecast, Erno managed to gain the attention of the wealthier part of Rain City's population. There is now a small group of wealthier merchants, knights, guards, the Count's vassals, and some of the noble family itself, who have become fans of the cakes they sell. Even so, he's not interested in taking on the customer service side of things, which is at odds with his outgoing, friendly and charismatic personality; his talent lies in baking bread and producing some sweet products.
Rhee, the first daughter, like her mother, works with customers, which also contradicts her personality, as she is more intense than most people think a woman should be, as well as being rude, confident and sharp-tongued. Even so, it is she who wants to inherit the bakery, it is she who shares the dream with her mother of a family bakery. The customers they serve certainly don't mind Rhee's rude and sarcastic personality, but the new ones are always surprised, some even asking the mother to "control the daughter", "teach her to be a good woman, or she won't have any grandchildren", or that she should "lock her in the kitchen" to which the mother always ignores and asks her daughter to "take the rubbish out of her shop". Rhee always loves to use her strength to throw rude people, usually men, out of the door. That's not to say she's bad at her job, as long as they let her work and don't bother her with inane comments, she's nice in her own way and can make the most taciturn person laugh with her dry humour and straightforward personality.
Aulis is different from his two brothers. As he is much younger than them, his upbringing has been slightly altered. Unlike Rhee and Erno, who had no one to look after them, so they started working as early as the age of seven, Aulis had Roksu, who couldn't accompany his older brothers to work. So, he started at the age of ten, and since he doesn't have a favourite place to work, he goes wherever he's needed most, whether it's in the shop or the kitchen.
Like the others, he learnt to cook, fight and talk to shoppers from his mother and father, but he also received an education that none of his siblings, apart from Alice, received, all on Roksu's behalf.
Roksu is weak, that had already been established. Of the 365 days that make up a year in the Felix calendar, Roksu spends at least 200 of them in bed with a high fever, coughing up blood or having attacks of debilitating hallucinations. He didn't learn to fight or defend himself; he wasn't taught how to cook, farm or even serve customers. As a child, he felt useless for not being able to have the same education as Rhee and Erno, for worrying his parents and making them spend money on doctors and low-level healing potions (which are still too expensive for a poor family to afford) and for not being able to help with the family business. But this illness gave him an opportunity that his siblings didn't have.
His parents, burdened with feeding and caring for three children, one of whom was extremely ill, couldn't neglect their business, their source of income, so they left the children to their own devices, with the eldest looking after the youngest, only being called in when Roksu's illness became very serious. When Erno was old enough he started helping out in the kitchen, with Rhee looking after Roksu, even though she was a year younger, and when she was old enough to help too, Roksu was left alone, often in bed with nothing to do or entertain him.
In the midst of all this, he was visited by many doctors, to observe him and alleviate some symptoms, and in pity for the sick child they would stay for a while and keep him company, tell him stories, and above all show him books and teach him to read. This is something his parents didn't know how to do, something they never passed on to their other children. But they saw Roksu's dedication to learning to read and write, so with their meagre savings, they bought him paper and pencils to practice with and books that travelling merchants sometimes brought for him to read. When the hallucinations started, it got worse, reams of paper and numerous pencils were used up, Seojun and Tyyne cursed the doctors for teaching Roksu to read and making him learn to write, until they showed the doctors the writing and were surprised to see symbols that even they ( the doctors) didn't recognise. Roksu's hallucinations are not transmitted in his own language, but in a lost one that, apart from him, nobody knows what it means. The doctors advised hiring a priest, but with no temple in Henituse territory and only temples to the God of Death in the capital, they couldn't do it.
This slight instruction was enough to arouse curiosity about the wisdom transmitted by the books, and even with only a few copies, Roksu became cultured. Roksu may not be strong, but he can read and write in several languages, draw, and has mathematical, historical, geographical and biological knowledge.
This intellectual wisdom attracted Aulis, who unlike his family doesn't think he's useless. So, the eleven-year-old is, of the three working brothers, the only one who can read, write and do maths. He's the one his mother takes to the market when Roksu has a high fever and she needs to negotiate prices. He's the one who helps his father with the family accounts or with legal and documentary problems when Roksu is unconscious. Even so, these moments are rare and could be dealt with in other ways. So, his other skills are still much more advantageous than the ones he learnt from Roksu. But even so, Aulis idolises this sickly older brother in favour of the others.
He grew up with him, being taught every day that Roksu was in stable health. And when he wasn't, he looked after him or went out to play with the other children, although he never stopped worrying.
Aulis is also the only one who doesn't share a room, although he used to. When Erno turned fifteen, his parents decided to build a wall in the boys' room so that he could have his own room, leaving Roksu to share with Aulis. A year later, Roksu, who was thirteen, woke up in the middle of the night with hallucinations, violent voices and strange symbols echoing directly in his brain. It was one of the strongest hallucinations he'd ever had, lasting almost an entire night.
At the age of six, Aulis saw his brother get out of bed as if he had been possessed, scream in pain and tell the voices to shut up. He saw his brother sharpening his pencil with trembling hands, he saw him writing without stopping until he broke the point, and then sharpening it again, all the while trembling, with tears running down his eyes. And hours later, Aulis saw the tears turn to blood, he saw the pencil turn red and Roksu's hand turn to living flesh from writing so much, he saw the pain he was suffering, but it didn't stop.
Aulis heard Roksu asking to die, for it all to be over, and saw him pick up the knife and try to stab himself in the head to take the pain away, only to be stopped by his father. And then he saw him fighting his father like an enraged demon, begging him to kill him, to make the pain stop, screaming in despair. And when the hallucination passed, Aulis saw him coughing up blood, so much blood, before passing out. Six-year-old Aulis saw his brother, small, thin and pale, with blood dripping from his mouth, eyes and nose, his hand in living flesh and spasms of pain even when unconscious.
Roksu didn't wake up for two months after the attack and Aulis wouldn't leave his brother's side apart from going to the toilet. Aulis hardly slept either, with the nightmares that haunted him, and when Roksu woke up he became very dependent on him, practically following him everywhere.
When his mother saw another of her sons sick, not physically, but mentally, at such a young age, having to watch something so horrible happen to his brother, the same brother who looked after him every day, she decided that he should have his own room, after all, Erno was older and more mentally prepared and able to deal with Roksu's attacks. So Erno, without complaint, accepted his parents' suggestion straight away, unlike Aulis who screamed and fought not to be separated from Roksu, and even though he moved out afterwards, for years, even with his own room, he would still get up at night to look at his brother sleeping, to confirm that he was alive, or even get into bed with him and sleep cuddled up.
Aulis loves Roksu very much and although he has started working with his parents and other siblings, whenever Roksu is recovering from days of illness he does everything he can to help him get better, even temporarily. Unfortunately, after he saw an attack of hallucinations from Roksu followed by a cough, Aulis was forbidden to be near him if it happened, the only time, apart from the first, that he witnessed it, he panicked and had to be taken to the doctor. Aulis was once again deeply frightened and didn't sleep in his bed for months.
-Today I want to draw a cat- says Alice as she opens the door to Roksu's room and sits down on the bed next to her brother with a notebook and pencil in hand.
-A cat? - Roksu asks curiously
Alice, unlike Aulis who learnt only because he wanted to spend more time with his brother, really enjoys learning everything that Roksu teaches her. She's also very intelligent, having quickly learnt to read and can write easily, and in recent months she's been learning maths, so Roksu didn't find the request to draw strange, since she usually always asks if she can draw when she wants to take a break from her studies. What is strange is the fact that she has something to draw in mind.
-Yes, yesterday when I went to play with Ava, we found a very cute red kitten. - says Alice excitedly
-I see. - replies Roksu, satisfied with the answer
The older brother then takes the girl's pencil and notebook, sketching easily because of his muscle memory. Kim Rok Soo didn't know how to draw, but Roksu did, so it wasn't difficult to draw a simple cat while explaining to Alice how to do it. Just as Roksu was about to ask Alice to copy his drawing, Aulis knocked on the bedroom door.
-It's already warm Hyung. - says the boy as he approaches the bed
-Thank you. You can keep drawing Alice; I'll be right back.
The girl nods and begins her work, while Aulis helps Roksu out of bed and onto his feet while he picks out some clean clothes to put on later. With the help of his younger brother, Roksu leaves the room and goes downstairs to the bathroom, where the basin of hot water is waiting for him.
-Do you need help? - Aulis asks
-No.
The eleven-year-old, a little annoyed, leaves the eighteen-year-old alone and gets back to work.
Roksu quickly removes his dirty and smelly clothes, before stepping into the basin, shivering with cold. It's not very big, but Roksu isn't very tall either, so it doesn't bother him. The red-eyed boy looks at his body immersed in the water, before grabbing a bar of soap and starting to wash himself. When he gets to his hair, he uses the same soap because there's no shampoo.
When he's finished his quick shower, Roksu gets out of the basin and dries his skinny body with a towel before putting on a warm grey jumper, and long, loose trousers before wrapping himself in his dressing gown so he won't get cold. He dries his long black hair with the same towel and looks in the mirror, noticing that his appearance looks healthier.
At least I'm less disgusting.
Roksu takes his dirty clothes and wet towel as he leaves the bathroom and crosses the corridor to the door that separates the bedrooms from the living room.
The living room is small but cosy, on the right side of the door there is a fireplace, and in front of it, an old brown sofa covered in a blue blanket, which sits between two black armchairs, each with a brown blanket, and on top of a dark blue round rug. On the left and right-hand walls, there are windows and on the front wall, there is a door on the left-hand side next to a small cupboard containing Roksu's books and some trinkets from his parents and siblings. Roksu crosses the room to the kitchen, a rectangular space not much bigger than his kitchen in Korea, with a worktop on the left and cupboard doors underneath where the cooking utensils and food are kept. A window above it, in the middle. On the wall in front of it is a cooker and a window. On the right is a table with five chairs and a space covered with a curtain. Roksu heads towards it, where there is a shelf in the corner with folded laundry on top and unwashed clothes underneath. Roksu leaves the clothes there and looks at the stairs next to him, which lead down to the ground floor, more precisely to the bakery's kitchen. Roksu thinks about going downstairs for a few seconds to see the rest of his family, to observe them with clearer eyes and less fever, to confirm that everything is really the same as the memories he received, but gives up as he feels tired even though he has only been standing for a short time. So, he goes back to his room, where Alice is still drawing, although this is her fourth attempt.
- What do you think Oppa? - asks the excited child as she shows her drawing
The cat has a very thin face and its body looks smaller than it should, it doesn't look much like a cat, but it's still progress.
-You're doing well. - replies the boy as he sits down next to her
He offers to help her improve her art until they hear a loud sound, like a horn. This sound is repeated twice in a long way, then stops and sounds again, several times in the same order.
The Count is calling the citizens!?
The horn is blown when the Count wants to convey a message to his people. One, means they're being invaded, two, means it's important, three, means it's just interesting information. Two times is rare. Roksu remembers hearing the horn blow twice only once, at the age of eight, when the Count's first wife died. Even the announcement of the Count's second marriage was with a three-time call.
Alice jumps out of bed in a hurry and goes out of the room into the corridor, Roksu following more slowly behind. He approaches his sister, who is leaning against one of the three windows in the corridor. He looks down to see the bakery's customers, his mother, father and siblings leaving through the main door to the market square where the messengers will be communicating the Count's official announcement. Twice means that everyone over the age of ten, without serious health problems or extremely urgent and delicate matters, is obliged to stop work and head for the square as quickly as possible to hear the announcement. Alice and Roksu belong to those who don't need to go.
Roksu then runs his left hand through Alice's straight hair as she looks at the figures of her family heading towards the square.
-It's okay, let's get back to the drawing? - asks the boy
-What's going on?
-The Count has an important announcement, when mom and dad arrive, they'll tell us, okay- Roksu explains to the child.
-All right
Alice takes one last look around before returning to her room and sitting down on the bed again. Roksu goes to her side and entertains her by teaching her how to draw various cute cats in different positions.
When Alice manages to draw a cat, which really does look like a feline, noises start coming from the corridor. Quick footsteps sound and the bedroom door is opened. His mother, paler than he remembers, opens the door urgently, and looks at her children worriedly before calming down slightly. Without saying a word, she approaches and slips her arms around Roksu's shoulders, bringing his head to her chest. Roksu just obeys and lets the woman stroke his hair and kiss his forehead, even though he doesn't understand what's going on. When she lets go of him, she moves over to Alice, taking her in her arms and hugging her tightly. Roksu looks at his father standing in the doorway. He looks shaken, but not as much as his mother.
-Father, what's wrong? - Roksu asks worriedly
His father runs his hand over his face thoughtfully, before going in and sitting down on Erno's bed. He sighs.
-Count Henituse's messenger has announced that his eldest son Cale Henituse has been found dead.
What?