Chapter 39
I'd suspected as much ever since they mentioned the middle of the Pacific, but the coach and I ended up boarding a boat at the harbor. I wanted to try flying... Still, I was reasonably satisfied. Gazing at the overwhelming expanse of ocean—nothing but water no matter how many hours passed—I felt with every fiber of my being just how small and insignificant I was—
“What're you spacing out about?”
“...Just marveling at the grandeur of nature.”
“Jeez! I'm already missing solid ground, and here you are acting like the swimmer you are. Even with that aptitude of yours.”
“Yeah, tell me about it.”
The coach, who kept striking up conversations out of boredom, seemed to be fraying at the edges day by day.
“Moon-soo.”
“Yes?”
“No ghosts on this boat, right?”
“Out of nowhere?”
Has she really lost it?
“I thought I knew everything about you, but I've never actually seen you do your shaman thing.”
“Wasn't that what you wanted?”
Didn't she beg me not to chase off that water ghost during regular training?
I was baffled.
“That was back during regular training! This is just eat, sleep, eat, sleep. I feel like livestock!”
“Hmm...”
She had a point. The cramped two-person cabin with its single bunk bed, the salty excuse for meals, the public restroom that got filthier by the day... It was straight out of a 20th-century prison.
“You holding up okay?”
“It's tough.”
Truth be told, it wasn't tough at all. The food was overly salty overall, but aside from that, no complaints. It wasn't like I was pulling all-nighters at a part-time gig. I could sleep as much as I wanted.
“Haa...”
“Coach, just hang in there a bit longer. We'll be there soon.”
“Don't get cheeky. I'm still the adult here. You think I'd whine over this?”
“......”
After griping all day, she had the nerve to say that. Unbelievable.
At that moment, the announcement blared.
(Attention passengers.)
(We will arrive at our destination in approximately 15 minutes. The boat may rock, so please return to your cabins and wait.)
“Oh!”
“Coach, looks like land's in sight for real.”
“Where?!”
“Over there!”
I pointed toward something hazy on the horizon.
“Oh!”
“...But Coach, didn't you say we'd be training on a luxury cruise ship?”
“Yeah. So what?”
“That's an island. Doesn't quite match up.”
“Excellent question!”
“Is it?”
“The luxury liner where the first team is training is 10 kilometers off that island.”
“No way...?”
Not 5km, not 8km, not 20km—exactly 10km, she said.
Which meant...
“Once we hit the island, drop your bags at the reserved hotel, then you swim out to the luxury liner. Call it a 10km marathon training session.”
“You're insane...”
It was the only thought in my head. She really was.
* * *
I half-suspected the coach of embezzling transportation funds—the lodging was that nice. Spacious bed, plush sofa, stunning views, shower, bathroom, open-air bath... If not for that insane training, I'd be in paradise.
“Get some rest. See you tomorrow morning. Call if there's any issue.”
“Huh? What about you, Coach?”
I'd assumed we'd share the room. Where was she crashing after just dropping her bags?
“......”
“Coach?”
“Meeting up with some other coaches to catch up all night. Might have a drink or two.”
“...I see.”
It made sense, but the suspicion lingered.
“Ahem! Anyway, tomorrow at 6 a.m. local time. Breakfast at the hotel buffet, lunch and dinner as packed meals for diet control.”
“Got it.”
“...Oh! Almost forgot—big mistake! Security outside the hotel's bad, so absolutely no wandering alone.”
“Damn.”
I'd been looking forward to strolling the exotic streets. Major letdown.
“See you tomorrow!”
Slam.
The coach waved and shut the door behind her.
Was she the only one excited?
That's too much!
The scheduled 10km marathon swim got postponed due to bad weather. But if the coach was right, we'd be holed up in the hotel until the typhoon passed—no sightseeing for us.
I checked the guidebook on the room's dining table.
“Let's see...”
It was in a foreign language, but as a tourist spot, the bottom had English translations—easy enough to read.
To think I'd ever use the foreign languages from school!
I'd figured I'd never leave the country my whole life. Yet here I was with a passport, reading a foreign guidebook? The changes over just a few days felt unreal, but studying those vocab lists and grammar rules had paid off.
“Golf course, billiards, gym, outdoor pool, bar, restaurant, convenience store...”
The hotel had every amenity imaginable. And that was just the start—concerts every night at 8, circus shows at the outdoor pool on weekends... Though they auto-canceled in bad weather!
“Sigh...”
Disappointing, but plenty else to do besides concerts and circuses. Strolls through the gardens or beach? Free entertainment galore!
Might as well.
I slipped on the sunglasses the coach had given me and headed out.
* * *
After wandering the gardens lush with exotic trees and flowers, then stepping on the deserted beach sand under typhoon warnings for about two hours...
Still time to kill, so here I was at the swanky top-floor restaurant, sipping iced coffee.
Money for iced coffee? I'd learned hotel guests got one free per day—no way I'd have bothered otherwise.
“...I get why it's free now.”
The coffee was meh, but the typhoon-lashed view from the restaurant was stunning. So I zoned out, admiring it, losing track of time...
“Excuse me.”
“Oh, sure.”
A foreigner—no, a fellow Korean speaker—pushing a wheelchair asked politely. I scooted my chair aside for her and glanced at the woman.
Fifties, maybe mid? In the wheelchair sat what I guessed was her daughter, early twenties.
Autism...?
Her unfocused eyes stared straight ahead, drool trickling from slightly parted lips. A bib-like cloth around her neck wiped away saliva and snot like for an infant.
Odd detail? She clutched a novel to her chest like treasure—cover art of a medieval 2D beauty.
I Became the Count's Youngest Daughter.
The title gave it away.
Rags-to-riches tale of getting adopted by nobility, huh?
Not my thing—interest waned fast.
Thud.
The mom parked the wheelchair by the prime-view window and sat beside her. Utterly exhausted face. Human empathy kicked in; I couldn't help feeling sorry for her.
“Ready to order, ma'am?”
“Yes. This and this...”
She ordered from the approaching server, then ignored the view to focus solely on her daughter—who didn't even glance her way.
Thud.
“Hm?”
An uncalled server set pricey ice cream and a spoon in front of me.
“Enjoy.”
“W-Wait! I didn't order ice cream!”
Startled, I grabbed the server's retreating wrist in protest.
“That lady over there ordered it. Already paid for.”
“Her...?”
Our eyes met; the mom smiled reassuringly.
Why buy it for me? No clue.
“Hmm...”
I don't believe in free lunches, but I couldn't think of any debt I owed her.
Screw it—eat first, think later!
Ice cream doesn't wait. Waste not.
If she stuck around till I finished, I'd ask why.
* * *
“Wow...”
Free iced coffee was a letdown, but this ice cream with cookies and marshmallows? Delicious.
Clink.
Spoon in the empty glass—perfect cleanup. Bliss.
“Thank you so much—it was delicious.”
I conveyed my gratitude with feeling.
“Traveling alone?”
She leaned back in her chair, relaxing. I answered honestly.
“No, here for training camp.”
“Like a retreat?”
“Yeah. Swimmer.”
After the typhoon, swim 10km from the island to the luxury liner. Round trip, even. Depressing just thinking about it.
“Sounds fun every day. Training in a beautiful resort.”
“Ha, ha...”
If you ignored the killer regimen, maybe? Made me realize how tough it was to become a national team member, reserved for the elite.
“How long you staying?”
“Not sure.”
“Personally, I'd love if it was a while. As you see, lots of foreigners here—hard to find someone to chat with.”
“Why's that?”
“Can't speak the language... Just basics for daily life, orders, greetings.”
“I see.”
Couldn't fathom enduring the language barrier for long-term stay abroad.
“Curious?”
“Huh?”
“Why we live here.”
“...A little.”
She seemed starved for conversation. I hadn't asked, but after scoring pricey ice cream, I wanted to repay the kindness. Nothing waiting back in the room anyway.
Scrape.
I grabbed a chair and sat near the wheelchair. Spotting my intent? Her face lit up noticeably as she continued.
“She begged for it as a birthday gift before... this happened. Said she wanted to live on this island.”
“Ah!”
Seemed like rare acquired autism.
“Of course I said no. It's been nearly a year since then. Her birthday's the day after tomorrow...”
“Hang in there.”
Nothing else to say to her wistful gaze at her daughter.
Time to head out?
Stick around longer, and her gloom would drag me down too.
“Want something to drink?”
“Uh... not really...”
“The tropical fruit soda's refreshing and tasty. Highly recommend.”
“...I'll have one, thanks.”
Weak to food offers—I gave up escaping.
“My daughter...”
The mom rambled nonstop about her pre-autism days: habits, hobbies, personality... Not all good.
“Once she hit puberty, she started resenting her dad a lot. Blamed him for looking like him, said that's why no boyfriend.”
“Oof...”
Too sensitive? My biased take, but she wasn't ugly enough for no boyfriend.
Of course, compared to Song Seon-yeong...
“Got a girlfriend?”
“Cough! No.”
Her ambush question made me choke.
“Picky?”
“Nah. Never even thought about dating. Too busy with part-time work, no time.”
“Aw... Still a hundred times better than my girl, who chased only Prince Charming.”
“Ha, ha... Thanks.”
Mom badmouthing right beside her, yet the girl in the wheelchair showed zero reaction. Closer to a vegetable than autism? But clutching that book tight suggested some will remained...
“That book's her favorite romance novel. Hates letting go—bath time's a nightmare.”
“Figures.”
I Became the Count's Youngest Daughter.
Did she dream of becoming the silver-haired beauty on the cover? And maybe the flower boy gently hugging her from behind as her ideal type...
“Tired?”
“...Yeah, suddenly sleepy. Guess I'll head out—”
* * *
My view shifted in the blink of an eye. Mid-conversation at the luxury hotel's top floor, now I stood in the middle of a blue meadow.
What the—?
Whoosh.
A cool breeze blew; I turned instinctively and nearly choked on a hollow laugh.
“Heh, heh, heh...”
Off in the distance, faint medieval European-style castle walls and village—stuff you hardly saw in the modern world.
“This is nuts.”
Sleepiness vanished.