GB 5

Even though the outside world had become harsh for children to live in, it was precisely for this reason that children were given special protection. Having lived in such a world, Yoon Moo-hwa felt uncomfortable watching Number 8 constantly running around taking risks here and there.

“Hyung…”

Yoon Moo-hwa, who had started to be called “Hyung,” closed his mouth.

Even estimating Number 8’s age at ten, there was still a twelve-year age gap, too much for “Hyung.”

“Mister…”

Yoon Moo-hwa closed his mouth again.

Age difference aside, even with the current average human lifespan reduced to 70 years, twenty-two was too young to be called “Mister.”

In the end, what came out was a sigh.

“No, I… I’ll go.”

To these words, spoken after much deliberation, Number 8 firmly shook his head.

“How can I let an injured person move! Don’t budge from here. You can’t die while wandering around!”

Yoon Moo-hwa was someone who had undergone training where he walked 10 kilometers daily for 5 days carrying a 20-kilogram military pack without sleeping. Swimming to the base camp with nothing but his bare body after being dropped into the sea was routine.

Having been trained to push his limits further and further, going beyond the point of near-death and returning alive, it was strange to be an object of concern, supposedly at risk of death from a mere side injury.

Yoon Moo-hwa asked, genuinely curious:

“I’m much bigger than you and surely much stronger, so I should protect you. It’s not right for you to protect me.”

However, Yoon Moo-hwa’s common sense didn’t apply to Number 8. Rather, to Number 8, it seemed Yoon Moo-hwa was talking nonsense.

“I picked you up,” Number 8 asserted his ownership.

“If I picked you up, you do as I please. And since you’re the first living spoils I’ve picked up, if you die, my pride will be hurt.”

The mispronunciation of “pride” and “hurt” revealed that the child was imitating words he’d picked up somewhere.

Yoon Moo-hwa let out a wry laugh.

“Spoils are what you get from fighting. So I’m probably not spoils.”

“…Then?”

Yoon Moo-hwa estimated the time until the main ship arrived. He had allowed a maximum of 48 hours, and about 18 hours had passed, so around 30 hours remained. That meant only about thirty hours remained for the child to consider him as something he possessed.

Yoon Moo-hwa leaned against the wall and muttered languidly:

“Call it a souvenir.”

It wouldn’t be difficult to give the child a memorable experience during that time. The child had saved his life, so giving him memories was the least he could do.

As if saying “do as you please,” Yoon Moo-hwa let Number 8 go out into the forest. Watching him turn back several times to emphasize precautions as he left, it really felt like their ages were reversed.

“Don’t go outside, and even if someone comes, even if they seem human, absolutely, absolutely don’t come out!”

“I got it. Don’t come out unless it’s you, right?”

“That’s right! That’s it!”

Number 8 clapped happily at the smart response.

“I’ll come right back here when I catch the first fish, so wait. You’re hungry, right? But you can wait a little, can’t you?”

His questioning eyes sparkled like stars. Instead of saying he didn’t need to eat, Yoon Moo-hwa knew how to please the child. He rubbed his stomach, feigning:

“Yes, I’m hungry. Very hungry. So come back quickly.”

Apparently, Yoon Moo-hwa wasn’t talented at acting. Or he lacked sincerity. Still, it worked well on Number 8.

Nodding vigorously, Number 8 hurriedly made his way through the forest to the beach.

He didn’t notice at all that someone was following him about 300 meters behind.

Number 8 came to the beach with Yoon Moo-hwa trailing him and dug up a hole he had marked for himself to know. Inside were a harpoon and a net. Yoon Moo-hwa followed the child as he waded into the sea with these. Chewing on small fruits he had harvested.

Hidden in the dense shade of a tree, he watched the child’s bean-sized head disappear into the undulating waves, then shifted his gaze to the horizon.

This was originally pirate territory. It seemed that fog might form every dawn, and thinking back now, it appeared they had hung something like wire mesh near the coastal mangrove roots. He recalled that the survey ship’s direction hadn’t easily changed.

Both before and after the so-called flooding period, ships were a crucial means of transportation. Piracy was considered the top criminal act under newly defined international law, and pirate groups were violent criminal organizations. They often heavily armed themselves with seized weapons and frequently made illegal modifications. Depending on their scale, battles large and small had infiltrated their lives.

People’s solidarity grew stronger when they had a common enemy, and this hostility was even more intense in the chaotic early days of the new era. Now, as rehabilitated maritime criminals return to society and innocent children emerge into the world through purification processes, remaining prejudices and conflicts with pirates in daily life were becoming obstacles to improving perceptions. So even if they were young children, if they were raised under pirates, it would be difficult to shed that stigma even after going through shelters.

That stigma would follow them wherever they went.

Having finished eating all the berries and quenching his thirst, Yoon Moo-hwa frowned.

Quite some time had passed, but the child hadn’t come out of the water.

Even if the child had been navigating the sea like his own backyard since he started growing up, it was still a vast ocean full of endless dangers. Moreover, it had now become even more expert at swelling its volume, making a hobby of flooding to steal and damage land. Before he knew it, Yoon Moo-hwa was running into the water.

He too was familiar with the sea. But the difference between him and Number 8 was that Number 8 regarded the sea as some kind of intimate presence like a friend, while Yoon Moo-hwa saw it as a massive body of water.

He entered swiftly. If the child had really disappeared here, he couldn’t be found. Regrettably, that was the truth. But he dove in up to the position he remembered. And Yoon Moo-hwa discovered.

Without a single bubble, the child was swimming in the sea. Skillfully avoiding jellyfish that looked fantastical like clouds, he was gathering seaweed that had grown as persistently as mangroves, holding them to his chest. As if they were a bouquet of flowers.

The child turned his head, saw Yoon Moo-hwa, and smiled faintly. He pointed his finger upwards repeatedly. It seemed to mean “let’s go up,” so Yoon Moo-hwa also slowly ascended.

“Puha!”

Number 8 exhaled refreshingly.

“Why did you come in?”

Yoon Moo-hwa let out a wry laugh at the question that seemed genuinely puzzled.

“You weren’t coming out.”

“Did you think I was dead?”

Number 8’s eyes were round with genuine surprise.

“I fell in here before I even learned how to swim.”

His giggle was innocent. It sounded like tickling and popping bubbles.

“The adults dropped me here and left. To see if I’d survive or not. I learned to swim faster than I learned to walk.”

The content was too cruel to be a boast. Yoon Moo-hwa found it hard to even give empty praise to Number 8, who was proudly stating something that was neither an achievement nor a fond memory.

Number 8 glided forward smoothly, leaving Yoon Moo-hwa behind. Of course, “forward” by Yoon Moo-hwa’s standards meant towards the beach. The child might consider the deeper sea as “forward.”

As they moved on, Number 8 suddenly changed direction.

“Want to see the ship? There should still be some left.”

“Whose ship.”

“The abandoned ship! The one you came on. It’s a new ship, right? There might only be a shell left, but I’ll show you anyway.”

Thinking it was a good opportunity, Yoon Moo-hwa nodded.

Number 8 swam towards the patrol boat Yoon Moo-hwa had come on.

He looked just like a jellyfish. That’s how natural he seemed in the water.

As Yoon Moo-hwa was moving forward, he suddenly heard a sound and plunged back into the water. Number 8, who had also detected the sound, was about to tell Yoon Moo-hwa to go in. Number 8 looked around, confused by Yoon Moo-hwa who had already disappeared. He saw a boat approaching the derelict ship ahead, which was no longer useful as a vessel.

“Number 8!”

The one calling out cheerfully while waving his hands was Number 3. Number 8 splashed anxiously, certain that the man couldn’t stay underwater for that long. If he stayed a bit longer, he would approach his own diving time limit. Number 8 had never seen anyone who could dive longer than him. If the man had swum away into the sea, he wanted to at least hide the traces.

“Big Brother Number 3.”

Number 8 smiled awkwardly. Meanwhile, Number 3, who was on the boat with the chief and the chief’s sister, said boastfully:

“Look at this! I’m on a boat?! They say we’re going to set sail early this time. I think I’ll be on it too!”

Number 8, who would normally feel intense envy, just nodded vaguely, thinking about the man.

Disappointed by the lackluster response, Number 3 pouted.

“What are you doing? Come up here.”

It was okay to ride small boats. Only the large iron ships were forbidden to young children. Number 8 hesitated at the sight of the boat he would have quickly boarded under normal circumstances. Seeing this, Number 3’s eyes widened, then he laughed loudly.

“What’s this? Are you peeing or something?”

Number 8 got upset at the giggling sound.

“No!”

“Then come here quickly.”

Number 3 reached out his hand. Number 8 glanced back briefly before finally taking the hand and climbing up.

The leader, who had been watching, gruffly asked:

“You’re empty-handed again today, huh.”

Number 8 flinched.

“I was just about to catch something… And look, I’m not empty-handed. I have seaweed.”

Number 8 hesitantly showed what he was holding. The leader clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“Do you want to be unable to drink water? If you want to die drinking seawater, keep this up.”

There’s no idiot who doesn’t know that drinking seawater out of thirst is tantamount to suicide. 

At least not on this island. The leader’s words meant he’d kill Number 8 if he kept this up. The leader’s sister handed a water bottle to the dejected Number 8. As soon as he received it, the leader roughly lifted Number 8 up. Grabbing and shaking the child’s hair as he flailed in the air clutching the water bottle, the leader yelled:

“I’ll decide whether to give you more water or not based on what you bring back this evening. Get your act together.”

Then he threw the child aside.

Meanwhile, thanks to the motor engine that never stopped, the boat had passed quite far beyond the wrecked speedboat. Number 8, not even thinking about his stinging scalp, checked that the water bottle was tightly sealed and hurriedly jumped back into the sea, swimming towards the wreck. His mind was filled only with thoughts of the man who was his trophy, no, his souvenir.

What if he died from suffocation? What if he sank?

He dipped into the sea and resurfaced several times. He had long lost his composure. As his anxiety grew, his breathing became labored. By the time Number 8 approached the wreck, he took another deep breath and dove deep underwater.

And then, a strong hand pulled him out.

“I’m here.”