Only then did Taeui look down at his leg, swathed in white plaster. Even with the painkillers still active, he felt a faint throbbing. Once they wore off, it would hurt like hell.But the guy beside him, arm in a plaster cast, couldn’t be much better off. Serves him right, Taeui thought spitefully—then sighed. They were two dogs, one rolling in filth, the other in chaff.“How many weeks do you think I’ll be out?” he asked.The doctor flicked the file’s edge at him again. Even a plastic file stings the brow.“You, the one with the smashed knee, asking how many weeks… Take care of your body when you’re young, they said. Think the bone will heal in a month or two and you’ll be back to normal? You’ll spend every lousy cold day of your life complaining of neuralgia like an old coot. Well done, well done. Both of you are so sharp—remember what I told you when you were first brought in?”Taeui said nothing. The doctor, who never looked kindly on him, clicked his tongue and stormed off. Taeui, aching but able to move his arm, scratched his head.“You bastard—look what you did to me.”A grouchy voice came from the next bed—apparently not sleeping but pretending, so the doctor dumped all his scolding on him.“Idiot—whose fault is this?” Taeui replied in a low growl, too tired to shout. More cursing followed, but he ignored it.A smashed knee… That would be rough. With careful treatment, he’d get close to normal after a while.He’d been thinking of quitting the army anyway; that part didn’t upset him. Yet it stung—this was the life he once thought he’d bury his bones in.Wait—he still had years left to serve. Could he even be discharged early? What would he do then? They say jobs are scarce… Ah, whatever. He’d figure it out.Taeui closed his eyes.His neighbor lay silent now; the curses had stopped.Deciding to quit had, in some ways, eased his mind. At least he wouldn’t have to face that bastard again. This miserable bond would end.Yes. All the superiors who made ugly jokes and the subordinates who recoiled politely—he hated them all today.He’d done all he could. He had no fight left.…From outside came a faint but familiar voice—his brother’s. He couldn’t make out the words, but that tone belonged only to Jaeui. Perhaps they were calling the patient’s family in.Whether doctor or officer, his brother would come in once they finished. Yet the voices continued; no end in sight.Taeui ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) turned to the window. A fresh green shoot poked in through the pane. Between branches and leaves, a ripple of dazzling yellow sunlight.Suddenly, his gloom lifted. It didn’t matter, he thought, in a new mood.He still had a long future—and much work ahead. Things he must do, things he could do. Changing course for them wasn’t so bad.It’s okay, it’s okay, he whispered, gazing through half-lidded eyes at the sunlit young leaves.—May your future be filled with new, astonishing things you can’t yet imagine… And if possible, may you find a loving partner to share it with forever…He rubbed his lonely side, added the thought shyly, and, perhaps only in his mind, the breeze seemed to murmur back. He couldn’t help smiling.He felt better. “But they’re not human. They can’t grasp human wishes with human senses.”That crisp assertion came from Ching.He recalled how, as a child, he’d gazed at the full moon each month and made wishes—none ever came true. His expression darkened, pained: “In the end, Meixiang remained just a ‘girlfriend.’”Beside him, tactless—or malicious—Tou chuckled through chopsticks: “Wasn’t Meixiang the one who mailed you her wedding invitation all the way out here?” The remark stabbed, and Ching swatted Tou’s back, ignoring his protest of near-stabbing.“But there’s no helping it. Whether you wish on the moon or the stars, people often wish the impossible.”“Wishes are always like that. Ching has a point—whether it’s a star, the moon, God, or Buddha, they’re all distant from us.”Carlo shrugged, having already finished his meal: “So I made sensible wishes: ‘Please let me have meat stew tonight. Beef if possible, pork if not.’ Or, ‘For my birthday, I want that black bicycle with an extra gear released last June at Fredericosa—just one house over from Pedro’s.’ I judged what my parents could afford.”They traded childhood memories—“I must have been seven or eight”—when Tou, a heavy smoker, couldn’t light up indoors and just held his cigarette, stared at Taeui, who stirred his soup absently.“Why isn’t he eating?” Tou asked.“No idea. He said he had a rough dream last night. He’s been gloomy since morning.”“Hey, Taei, what’s up?”Alta scooped a second bowl of rice and poked Taeui’s side. Taeui shook and muttered,“If I’d known no one could understand a human wish with human senses, I’d never have wished…”“What? What’s that about? What wish?”Taeui set down his chopsticks. His mumbled “Nothing” sounded achingly forlorn.His comrades giggled as if another’s misery were their delight.“Well, it makes sense after a rough dream. I felt restless too. Today’s the day he arrives—late afternoon, I think.”Carlo checked his watch—lunch wasn’t over—and Alta looked puzzled:“Who’s arriving?”Silence fell.Taeui decided to build his strength; he picked up his spoon and ate again. In this harsh place, all he could trust was his stamina.“But, hey… are you still involved with that crazy bastard? I heard rumors.”Tou murmured between cigarette chews. Taeui refrained from asking what rumors—just ate. Rumors of living together, some tryst, or being his prey—whatever they were, they sounded unpleasant. (And likely true.)Nothing here had changed—neither the system nor the people. Amazingly consistent, even in small things.No one liked to speak of Madman Rick. Some still glared at you if you mentioned him.Some guessed at their relationship; some pitied him; some despised him; some made no connection—but none spoke the name. Too afraid the gloved hand might reach out.In this atmosphere, no one would defend Rick… No one ever had.“Come to think of it, you’re still alive? You snuck away from here once. Rick made the rounds, then vanished.”“I thought you’d finally settled somewhere,” Ching said, cruelly.Taeui thought, I’m amazed I’m still alive, and muttered, “Yeah, whatever.”His appetite gone, he set down his spoon. Yet he’d nearly finished.“Oh, that explains it. That crazy bastard’s coming as a guest instructor.”Ching snapped his fingers; Alta frowned, sensing trouble:“Who the hell is this?”Silence again.Alta stared at Ching’s lips, then eyes widened.“Could it be—Regrow? Madman Rick?! Ugh! He’s really coming? To catch you?!”“Yeah. He’s coming to kill me this time. Happy?”Taeui, out of appetite and in low spirits, tapped the table with his spoon.But the others—except Alta, who was out of the loop—chattered lightly, having kept up with the international manhunt.“Why’s he so moody over a joke?”“Maybe because there’s no romance.”“Really? Should we call Shinru?”“Don’t! Stop! Don’t add more misery!”They cast puzzled looks as Taeui clawed at his hair. They hadn’t heard of Shinru—news only went so far.Alta alone looked uneasy, shouting, “I thought this joint training would be peaceful—why’s that madman coming?!”“Well, at least he’s alone. Better than bringing those unlucky European goons.”Tou muttered around his cigarette; Taeui sipped barley tea and raised an eyebrow.“You still not on good terms?”“Traditions don’t change easily.”“What kind of tradition is that?”Taeui smiled wryly—it might truly be a tradition.Tou saw Taeui smile and cracked a grin too.“You look a bit better. You’ve been down all morning.”“Ah… I had a bad dream, that’s all.”Taeui tasted the bitterness of last night’s dream again.“A bad dream? Did Rick appear?”“No. Someone from an old bad fate before I first came here.”He trailed off. Tou nodded, murmuring,“Everyone has at least one bad fate. But why now? Have you met him recently?”“No…”Taeui sipped his tea—bitter today.He hadn’t met him recently—years had passed since he left Korea.But they were set to cross paths soon. Very soon.“Shall we get a nap? Once they arrive, we won’t rest until training ends.”Carlo stretched and rose. “I’ll do weapons maintenance.”“I’ll grab a tonic from medical,” another said. They all stood.“I think I’ll go smoke—won’t have time tomorrow.”Tou shivered with withdrawal and rose, glancing at Taeui.“And you?”“Hmm. Maybe I’ll finish this and nap too…”“Yeah, rest up. You’ll suffer most.”Tou patted Taeui’s shoulder—mocking or kind—and left. Others nodded in agreement, patted his shoulder, and departed. Taeui pressed his lips together in a bitter smile.

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