Nantigar, Kelun's Story - 2
"Aren't these guys totally insane? Hey, you bastards! The world outside the barrier looks like that, and you're out here collecting taxes?"
"Please step back. We're coordinating with the provisional military, so support is on the way."
"What coordination are you even doing? The provisional military's already set up this thing called the Management Bureau. It's all over the broadcasts—do you think people are idiots?"
Nantigar's provisional government. But despite the "provisional" name, the building was larger and more ornate than any other. Built right when the barriers went up, it had served as the barrier management office and was now occupied by the remnants of the vanished nation-state's soldiers and officials. Another scuffle was breaking out in front of it.
The provisional military led by Mikhail Chernenko had begun replacing currencies with credit coins for unification. But in deference to Nantigar's independent provisional government, they'd left distribution to them—which had sparked all the trouble.
Kelun's father, who had ventured out into the streets, now gripped his son's hand tightly amid the rising shouts and hurried away.
Credit coins. Not long ago, he'd tossed his wallet—stuffed with credit cards and ID papers—into the trash. It was a shame, but now it was just a reminder of the old days. Useless junk.
Throwing things away always left a lingering attachment. Was that showing on his face? Kelun glanced up, looking a bit anxious, and his father thought, This kid worries too much for his age, and tried to reassure him.
"Kelun, this is all new to us. Isn't it kind of exciting?"
Kelun's father was doing his best to embrace the changes. Life inside the barrier wasn't easy even for an adult like him. He'd leveraged his construction skills for maintenance alongside other technicians, and those three grueling days of survival had honed his instincts. He'd moved quickly and seized his chance.
While citizens clashed with the provisional government, the provisional military—visiting to discuss front-line coordination—had been stunned by the sight. These were soldiers, not politicians. They'd felt the Dists' loss of control more viscerally than anyone, and the provisional government's mess disgusted them. The shift happened fast.
They acknowledged the treatment of the provisional government's soldiers and officials but declared Nantigar would operate under military command like the other barriers. Officials would be reassigned to the Management Bureau, and the military absorbed into the regular army.
And so, during the regular army's temporary recruitment after the union-led provisional military took over, Kelun's father caught their eye by sheer luck. That's how he joined the regular army.
The transitional military, preparing for any contingencies, pushed the outer front lines near the barriers forward bit by bit. In case Aria launched an all-out assault on the barrier cities with every Dist, they thickened the outer defenses, deploying every last resource.
The remaining soldiers were veterans, so Kelun's father improved daily. Still, he came home injured sometimes.
Watching his father lace up his military boots at the inn door, Kelun asked worriedly, "Dad, are you heading out beyond the barrier again today?"
"Almost done out there. Don't worry. The Dists only charge at people they spot—they don't approach the barriers. Pretty lucky, huh?"
Kelun's father found it odd. Why didn't they breach the barriers? Even with front lines established, if Aria was commanding, it could just slam every available weapon into them. Was Aria thrown off by the military's persistent pushes and expansions?
Such unresolved questions faded with his son's words. "Maybe it's because of the proxies."
"Could be. Aria might've hit an unexpected snag."
Those eye-catching uniforms made them look like saviors in the current chaos. That day, Kelun's father felt a spark of hope amid his worries.
Once his father left, Kelun tidied the inn room so he'd have nothing to fuss over on return. Then he stepped out, heading to Stefan's flower shop like a flower shop clerk. No more school, but playing with peers couldn't compare to a place where he could truly relax.
The faint floral scent. Kelun's treasure trove in Nantigar's barrier. "Stefan Flower" was the most eye-catching shop around.
In the heart of this turmoil, a flower shop filled with scents that tickled the nose softly and warmed the heart. Discovered while strolling past nearby shops like the inn, it had become a spot where refugees paused for a moment's solace. For Kelun, it had long been a special escape from reality.
"Kelun, come on in."
A gentle young man holding flowers in his arms smiled warmly at Kelun. Isaac Stefan's soft brown curls suited him perfectly, along with his soft-spoken tone. He felt like a mom to Kelun.
With fewer varieties now, he still blended seamlessly among the blooming flowers—a kind young man who comforted many in Nantigar. The aunties adored him, of course.
"Yeah, Isaac hyung. Anything to trim today?"
Isaac, filling baskets with flowers out front, replied, "Haha, nah. Nothing today—just keep me company."
"I'll help with anything!"
Kelun jumped in to help arrange the front. Isaac watched with a mix of joy and concern.
Even Isaac struggled to believe they were trapped in the barrier. His shop, once ignored by busy passersby, now drew crowds buying flowers. His father—retired from a back injury, tending a nearby private flower field—had fretted that they'd run out, half in panic.
An unthinkable boom. With external trade cut off, varieties dwindled. His father had suggested hiking credit coin prices to slow sales, then backed off seeing customers' comforted faces as they left. Deep down, he was thrilled. Ironically, only now did people appreciate his lifelong devotion to flowers.
He just suggested to Isaac that they might need to turn it into a resting spot rather than a sales hub. But even his kind nature soured toward Nantigar's leadership—holdovers from the provisional government who wouldn't change despite the Management Bureau. They'd revived talk of total asset redistribution, having seen credit coins activate elsewhere and other barriers stabilize swiftly.
Once they learned Kelun's father was in the regular army, his father had snapped, "Tell your dad those bastards are all nuts!"
Isaac had gently shielded Kelun. "Dad, the citizens did nothing wrong. With the military stepping in, things'll get better."
But mistaking the military for their backing, the holdovers ramped up the chaos.
Redistribution policies turned to outright threats. The city's mood soured instantly. Even regular army troops clashed with divided opinions at the town square. Kelun's father stood against his old faction.
As tension etched his father's face, Kelun could barely offer comfort, fearing he'd snap. He just fled to the flower shop to escape the adults' mess.
One particularly gloomy day, Kelun's mood showed. With Stefan Flower no longer selling much, he looked ready to cry at a nudge. Isaac gently stroked his hair as he sat.
Knowing Kelun's fear of the changes, Isaac hugged him quietly. "It's okay, Kelun. This'll pass. Chaos like this can't last forever."
Stefan's tender words were a huge comfort. Kelun held back tears maturely, leaning into the peace.
And Isaac was right. Central command quickly dispatched squads as unrest peaked. Well-equipped, unfamiliar soldiers appeared in the city. Rumors swirled of proxies too. Kelun would chat with Isaac at the shop, then peer intently down the street.
"You like proxies that much?" Isaac teased.
Kelun grinned. "Of course! They're like characters from old comics come to life."
He always brightened talking about them. "Yeah, like movie heroes. The military wouldn't lie, but the footage looks straight out of a film."
Isaac laughed aloud. Then he stared straight ahead intently, but Kelun was lost in proxy tales.
"Dad says people who've seen them in person are even more amazed. Some say they're scary, though."
"Scary? Wonder why."
Isaac tilted his head while bundling flowers. Kelun shrugged like a kid sharing a fun fact. "They say people feel fear when facing something they can't understand."
"Smart kid, Kelun."
Isaac tied a blue ribbon on the bouquet, smiling. "We might get to go outside the barrier again soon. The Grand Marshal and military are leading well, and more proxies keep showing up."
Kelun beamed with hope. Stefan smiled faintly, holding the finished bouquet.
"Yeah, it'd be great if it happens like you say, Kelun."
A delicate girl's voice cut in. "I'm looking for the Management Bureau. Think I got lost."
Kelun finally turned to the young-sounding girl beside them. Her voice brimmed with pluck and confidence.
He gasped, mouth agape. The pitch-black uniform from military broadcasts. Silver hair gleaming against it.
"A... a gun."
Kelun suddenly got why some called them scary. Just like he'd said—something incomprehensible hit you right away.
The sniper rifle slung on the petite girl's back didn't suit her at all. Isaac felt sorry for her. Without the world flipping, she'd have lived ordinarily.
Before giving directions, he thrust a bouquet at her. "Thanks for your service, proxy. A gift."
The girl took it reflexively, staring up at him in surprise.
The spirited girl realized she'd accepted the flowers, then awkwardly mumbled, embarrassed, "Uh, th-thanks?"
Isaac stifled a laugh. To him, the proxy wasn't so scary after all.