When he first woke up, he thought this place was hell where the dead arrive, but seeing no blazing sulfur fire or hot cauldron, it seemed not so.
But how?
Raimund squeezed all his strength and got off the bed.
It was the first time his legs felt like thin straws.
His entire muscle system felt as if cut once then reconnected and didn't obey.
Slowly raising his body like a snail, his head spun.
His limbs didn't feel like his own.
It felt like wearing an armored suit that operated a beat late.
The floor was hard and cold.
The unfamiliar temperature sent shivers down his spine.
The space was a perfect white square.
Not narrow, but not extremely wide either.
If compared, it seemed about twice the size of his second-floor bedroom in Evie Lane.
But unlike his bedroom, this place was all white, appearing spotless with not a speck of dust or germ.
Besides the bed he was lying on, the room held nothing else.
His clothes too.
Where did his shirt and jeans go? Why was he only wearing a thin piece of cloth barely covering his lower body?
Raimund stretched his neck to look inside and involuntarily gasped.
"Huh."
Why no underwear? Isn't underwear a basic human right?
Why am I having my basic rights mercilessly violated in a strange place?
More importantly, who took my underwear?
Raimund was newly shocked.
Though unsure, if this place housed perverts who steal even underwear, he had to escape quickly.
He opened the only door in the room.
He just wanted to check if it was locked, but the door opened automatically.
Having seen only rusty locks and latches before, Raimund found this advanced system somewhat fascinating as he passed through.
Outside... was dark.
Unlike the excessively bright room.
The corridor wasn't a typical corridor but more like a kind of bridge.
The iron bridge with many holes in its floor hung from a ceiling high above.
Not exactly sure how high, as he couldn't see the ceiling.
Looking up to see how high it was and taking a few steps back, Raimund caught sight of the outside wall of the room he came from.
Containers, or marble-like blocks.
Red paint marked numbers above the door.
[ No.101 ]
Number 101? What does that mean?
But no matter how much he stared at the number, it didn't solve anything immediately.
The important thing was how to get out of here, and how to return home.
He started walking along the bridge.
A chilly wind blew up from below.
Raimund realized that, like the block he came out of, there were many other blocks.
Each block bore a number painted in red.
Not all blocks were like that.
Some were painted yellow.
Some had unknown devices plastered over the entrance.
Others had entrances sealed off like walls.
From inside such blocks, faint thudding sounds came.
Noticing the slight shaking of the blocks, Raimund finally saw thick chains connecting the tops of the blocks to the ceiling.
Only small safety lights lit the bridge floor.
Blocks hung in a vast dome where floor and ceiling locations were impossible to guess.
Raimund stopped walking.
He heard faint crying echoing somewhere.
A sorrowful "uuuuu" echoed and distorted weirdly as it reflected off blocks and walls.
Not here.
Is it coming from down there?
When Raimund peeked over the railing, he had the illusion of seeing black, shimmering waves and splashing water below.
Where could that be? Was there water on the floor for a reason?
As his upper body tilted slightly outward,
"-Be careful. One wrong move and it's a miserable death."
Someone grabbed Raimund's nape sharply.
Pulled by rough strength, Raimund turned.
His green eyes widened.
Oh, this person. He seemed familiar.
Raimund's mouth opened slightly.
The woman smiled, narrowing her brown eyes.
"We know each other, right?"
Know each other?
Yes.
Raimund remembered the woman with tied-up hair.
Probably when he was definitely inside the jar.
Instead of letting go of Raimund's clothes, she grabbed his hand and shook it firmly.
"Nice to meet you. Please just call me Cosette. I didn't expect you'd come out this far to meet me."
"Uh. Uhuh."
Do you know her?
Though they were acquainted, Raimund had no reason to expect such a friendly treatment.
While he looked puzzled, the woman called Cosette spoke cheerfully.
"By the way, I didn't expect you'd already be taking a walk.
If I knew you'd adapt this quickly, I would have visited yesterday.
It's a bit humid here, you know?
As you saw, there's water on the floor.
It's about 200 feet deep, so if you fall in, just consider yourself dead."
"Uh, uhuh."
"I heard you still can't speak. You'll adapt to the new body soon.
The research management department was very pleased, calling this a new challenge.
Are you feeling a bit better now?"
New body? What does that mean?
Raimund blinked.
The woman smiled brightly, though somewhat artificial but well-trained, and continued:
"The burned skin was treated with stem cell transplants.
Of course, since the head remained, it didn't take long.
But the synchronization of body and head takes time…"
According to the research management department's diagnosis.
They're not a medical support team, but they are the most knowledgeable about anomalies.
She kept talking, but Raimund's ears heard nothing.
He stepped back slowly.
An anomaly? Only the head left?
What did that mean?
So, it wasn't a dream that he was inside the jar?
It was all real?
Seeing Raimund pale, the woman tilted her head.
"Are you feeling unwell anywhere?"
"Ugh. Uh."
"Ah… You still have a lot to learn.
Even if you don't understand everything, it's okay.
But I must say this."
She spread her arms wide.
Behind Cosette, countless blocks seemed to float in midair, shaking with strange chain sounds in the void-like silence.
The sight would remain branded deeply into Raimund's mind forever.
"Welcome to the Humanity Conservation Foundation Union, No. 101."