The Rainy Season Begins (2)
The moment Patrick realized that not being able to touch the ground did not mean freedom, he finally grasped reality.
“Aaaagh!”
A shrill scream burst from his throat, but as expected, no one heard it. The thought that no one would come to help flashed through his mind like lightning. If no one was watching, there was no shame in spouting nonsense. In a room by himself, he would strike model poses in front of the mirror, act like an actor in front of ten million spectators, or even channel Kim Na-bak while showering. So he shouted. In that brief instant.
“Let’s go, third life!”
If there was a god somewhere, he poured every ounce of hope into wishing that the next life would be one overflowing with money and power, free of duties and responsibilities. But perhaps even the gods thought, “Ah, that’s a bit much.”
Thud—!
The sound of falling through the roof along with rotten wooden planks was quieter than expected. ‘Soft?’ It wasn’t as luxurious as his number-one treasure, the high-end bed, but it was definitely different from the feel of bare dirt—strangely familiar, even.
“……Straw?”
Patrick had landed on a pile of hay.
— Teacher, I heard you received a goat? I wonder if you have any hay.
— Hay? No?
— Heh heh. I figured as much and brought some over.
The village chief must have had the foresight to see the future. Otherwise, why would he have brought over the straw that was no longer needed after Patrick bought the fancy bed?
“……Next time I see him, I should brew him some medicinal tea.”
His third life had taken an unfortunate turn, but since he had been thinking that this life was pretty decent so far, Patrick was the type to feel grateful he hadn’t died a sudden death.
‘What now? Fix it again? Or just give up?’
After nearly going through something huge, one should know when to quit, but stubbornness crept up from the most useless places. If the gods had sent him back from the River Jordan, he should have been grateful, gone straight home, washed his feet, and gone to sleep. But instead—
“Even if I can’t eat it, I’ll still have it!”
When the table looked unappetizing, the proper response was to flip it over even if it meant making a scene. Yet Patrick, still lacking in life experience, was steadily sprouting the qualities of a pushover. In short, he climbed back up the ladder.
“It was around here……”
Still, having done it once, he had gained a bit of experience. He found two more rotten planks. This time, instead of tearing them off recklessly, he first removed the rusty, wobbly nails and then carefully disassembled them. Thanks to that, even though he got rained on, he avoided the danger of tumbling off the roof again.
“……Ah, damn……”
That didn’t mean the work flowed smoothly. He had removed three planks, but only brought up one new one. He had to climb the ladder again to fetch more planks. Then he remembered he hadn’t brought extra nails and climbed again. Then again for the wood resin used for waterproof finishing. In a world where the human effort of inventing elevators to avoid climbing stairs had come to nothing, Patrick once again felt the terror of stairs.
By the time he finally finished repairing the roof and came back down to the ground, he was completely exhausted. On top of his already weak constitution, he had caused a ruckus while getting soaked in the rain—how could his body not feel like it weighed a thousand pounds?
“Still, I did it! I’m the kind of guy who gets things done when he says he will, right? Right?”
The sense of accomplishment turned into excessive confidence, and with his shoulders still raised high, Patrick went inside. Now all that was left was to wash in warm water, boil a hot pot of soup, and enjoy some cultural life by reading the trashy drama—wait, The Chronicles of the Empire’s Noble Houses—he had been hooked on lately. That would make for a perfect start to his vacation. Yeah!
“Where did I leave off last time? I think I got to the part where the viscount had an affair and an illegitimate child was born? No, I even read up to the part where the illegitimate child approached the viscountess and seduced her! Man, Korean drama writers better watch out, seriously.”
Grinning, Patrick stepped inside and froze on the spot.
“……Parasite?”
Why, of all places, was the scene from that movie that had drawn ten million viewers by vividly depicting the wealth gap being reenacted in his house? If it had to be reenacted, he would have preferred it to be at the rich president’s house rather than here.
Seeing his home flooded up to the ankles, Patrick’s mind came to a complete halt. They said that when people received too great a shock, their bodies would stiffen and they wouldn’t even be able to scream or be surprised—and now he understood exactly what that meant.
‘I fixed the roof, so why……?’
I went through all that trouble to repair the roof, so what the hell is this? The cause and effect don’t match!
At that moment, the image of himself thirty minutes ago floated in his mind like a movie.
— He tore off the plank and whoosh, up into the sky!
— Coming to his senses and climbing the ladder again
— With the roof that should have blocked the rain now gone, the downpour came pouring in
— And him wandering around looking for another rotten plank, completely unaware
“XX.”
Who else was there to blame? It was all because of his own incompetence.
“Did you think I was going to get all depressed?”
But when pain exceeded its limit, it stopped being felt.
“When things aren’t going your way, accidents tend to happen everywhere!”
That’s why they say misfortune comes in droves. Once he grabbed hold of the urge to run away from home, the fighting spirit of a K-office worker blazed to life. In his previous life, projects falling apart and breaking down had been the default.
“Yeah, compared to back then, this is practically paradise.”
He was the same person who had endured that hellish life where his juniors were clueless, his seniors had no solutions, and the executives had no thoughts. ‘Ah, strictly speaking, he hadn’t endured it. He died of overwork.’
Anyway, the important thing was that Patrick had chosen to move forward rather than despair. He rolled up his sleeves and pant legs, and grabbed a basin to scoop out the water.
“Wind!”
He even fired off magic as he began scooping out the water. He felt a sense of pride at having discovered yet another use for magic.
“Even a high-ranking mage probably didn’t know Wind could be this useful for bailing water. Does that make me a grand mage?”
While spouting nonsense to cheer himself up, he even changed the lyrics of trot songs and idol songs as he mindlessly bailed water for a while. After washing the dirtied utensils with Waterball magic and drying them again with Wind magic—
“……It looks like I did a deep clean.”
As if by magic (well, technically it was magic), the house had become cleaner than before it got flooded with muddy water.
‘From now on, I should use magic for cleaning too.’
The problem was that his body was far too tired. After physical labor times two plus mental labor on top, his already frail stamina was on the verge of total depletion.
“……Still, everything feels fresh and clean. The bed is the best……”
Patrick fell asleep as if he had passed out. A smile filled his face, as if he were having a good dream. Well, as long as he himself was satisfied, that was enough.
***
“Uwaaah! I slept well!”
Sleep after physical labor was in a league of its own. Even if he hadn’t woken up to warm sunlight. Outside, the rain was still pouring down steadily.
“First, food……”
He could have slept a bit longer, but his stomach had started making a fuss. Last night, after going through every kind of flood-related disaster imaginable, he had fallen asleep without even thinking about cooking anything. Naturally, he hadn’t eaten dinner.
‘I’m seriously craving cup ramen.’
He had never missed a 24-hour convenience store as much as he did today. Ah—perhaps retort foods were the very embodiment of divine mercy?
“……Fire.”
If he wanted hot soup but didn’t have time to make broth? Then clams were the answer! Clam stew that could chase away even the alcohol he had drunk a week ago after just a few minutes of boiling was simple enough to cook that it boosted Patrick’s confidence despite his lack of culinary skill.
He finely chopped some shepherd’s purse roots and green onions, then generously added large clams similar to Manila clams. While the soup was boiling, his eyes landed on the smaller clams that would lose their flavor if not eaten soon.
‘No need to force Manila clams into clam stew.’
In that case, this would be stir-fried clams. Chinese-style with chili oil would be nice and spicy, but he didn’t have oyster sauce, let alone doubanjiang or chili powder. But if you didn’t have it, you didn’t have it—winging it with whatever was on hand was the fate of someone bad at cooking, wasn’t it?
“Should I throw in some ginger, green onions, and cabbage too? Let’s see, soy sauce, sugar, salt, butter…… Would cheese work? Or not? Eh, why not.”
The mindset that throwing in everything delicious would somehow turn out okay. Leaving half of it to luck, he stir-fried everything over high heat until—
The soup was bubbling away, the clams opening their shells to reveal their chewy meat.
“He really said he’d get me chili pepper seedlings, so why haven’t I heard anything?”
If only he could slice up a few spicy peppers and toss them in right now, it would be perfect. Promising himself to try again next time—whenever that might be—he picked up his spoon.
The cooking……
“I knew I had talent after all!”
They say even a blind squirrel finds a nut sometimes—someone bad at cooking could succeed once in a while too. Now misfortune would be followed by happiness.
“Ah, should I open one of those fruit wines I made? I should still have some stashed in the storage shed.”
Nothing beat daytime drinking on vacation. He had given away all sorts of alcohol to the villagers, but of course he had kept some for himself. He even had a few bottles of wine he had received from Benne’s parents.
“Let’s see, is it still raining hard?”
To decide whether to use a raincoat to fetch the alcohol from the shed, he opened the window that had been covered by the curtains.
Whoosh—
The rain was still coming down hard.
“……Maybe I should just not drink?”
If he went all the way to the shed in this rain to get the alcohol, he would have to wash up again afterward. While mulling it over and continuing to eat clams, he suddenly felt that the scenery outside looked somewhat unfamiliar.
“What? Something feels off.”
The fruit trees were fine even though some fruit had fallen. The table was still in its place, not blown away, so that was okay too.
“The rice paddies look fine too.”
The rice paddies were fine?
“……?”
He closed the curtains again, thinking he would just go back to reading, but then hurriedly reopened them and pressed himself against the window.
“Rice paddies? Since when did I have rice paddies at my house!”
Indeed. Water had begun to pool in the field because the drainage ditches hadn’t been properly maintained.
“Ah, damn it!”
Without even grabbing a raincoat, Patrick ran toward the field, shouting “Dig!” from afar.
***
“Teacher! I missed you! ……Teacher?”
A few more days passed, and the sun finally came out after a long time. It didn’t mean the rainy season was over. Once the early part of the season, which brought the heaviest rain, passed, frequent showers would still occur, but the sun would shine brightly. The children came rushing to Patrick’s house as if they had been waiting for this moment.
“Teacher, what’s wrong? Are you sick?”
“……I need…… some water……”
The children burst noisily into the house, excited to see him. What greeted their eyes was their teacher, looking haggard and half-dead.
“Are you sick?”
“A co……cold…… *cough, cough!*”
A small whispering voice reached Patrick’s ears as he lay there with an obvious fever.
“My grandpa said only idiots catch summer colds.”
“Shh!”
It was a sad day—his body ached, but his ears still worked perfectly.