Chapter Thirty-Two: Old Acquaintance — Maren

The newcomer stepped fully out of the shadows.

Under the flicker of intermittent streetlights, his appearance was revealed. He was a middle-aged man, perhaps around forty, wearing a worn but immaculately clean oversized coat that wrapped tightly around his frame. There was a natural gentleness on his face, though perhaps it was just an illusion, there seemed to be a hint of imperceptible fatigue underlying that kindness.

At this moment, the man frowned slightly, staring at the two would-be car thieves. Seeing the broken baseball bat in their hands, he took a step forward, shielding Song Shi, and spoke slowly:

"What are you two doing?"

*Damn it, there are two of them!*

And this newcomer looked like someone not to be trifled with. The man who had been standing felt his heart jump, and his companion, unable to continue picking the lock, scrambled to his feet.

As the atmosphere grew increasingly tense, they heard the middle-aged man say slowly, "It’s so late, and you’re out here in such a remote area picking up scrap. Don’t you think that’s dangerous?"

"Uh... huh?"

The one responsible for picking the lock was stunned, but his companion reacted quickly. "Right, right—we’re just picking up scrap! Hey! Thanks for the heads-up! It really is getting late, we should head home!"

As they spoke, the pair kept their eyes on the middle-aged man while slowly backing away. Once they were at a safe distance, they turned and sprinted off, vanishing in a blur.

Watching them disappear into the distance, the man withdrew his gaze and turned to Song Shi, his tone gentle. "Are you alright?"

"Ah... I'm fine, really."

Song Shi studied the man before him. Up close, he could see him more clearly. The man’s gray hair was slightly wavy and long enough to cover his neck; it looked a bit messy but was clean and not greasy. Because of the heavy coat, the only visible sign of augmentation was on his left hand, which appeared to be partially cybernetic. The rest of his exposed features, including his face, showed no signs of implants.

Yet, the feeling the man gave Song Shi was subtle, something he couldn't quite put into words.

"But you must know they weren't exactly picking up 'scrap,' right?" Song Shi said. "They were trying to steal the car, or whatever was inside it."

Hearing this, the man admitted it quite readily, then paused for a moment. "But... I had no choice."

"There were two of them. If I had pushed them too hard, I couldn't be sure I’d be able to stop both, and you might have gotten hurt." While Song Shi observed him, the man was doing the same—assessing a young man with low-level augmentations who looked as though he had just come of age.

"Besides, pointing it out directly doesn't do much good." The man's speech was unhurried, his enunciation clear. "Things like this happen too often. Even if we caught them, the Security Bureau wouldn't necessarily bother with such minor cases."

"A person’s power is limited; one cannot change much," the man said with a tired smile. "Besides, they didn't succeed in the end, did they? That’s enough."

"I see. I understand." Song Shi nodded. "By the way, I still don't know how to address—"

His words were suddenly interrupted.

"Wait a moment..." The man’s expression shifted, and he said with some hesitation, "...Song Shi?"

"Hm?" Song Shi was startled.

"I am Maren. We should have met a few times." The fatigue on the man's face softened into a smile. "Do you remember? At the support meetings at the Lomond Orphanage, and when I came to substitute teach."

Then, Song Shi remembered. He had indeed met this person. Or more accurately, his "original self" had.

This middle-aged man, Maren, was a volunteer who frequented orphanages—though that particular orphanage was not the "Lomond Orphanage." There was more than one orphanage in the Deep Moss District.

The situation at Lomond Orphanage had been difficult for years, but it was, at least in name, a public facility under the United Government, which allowed it to receive some support, such as heavily skimmed funding and expiring supplies. However, the non-public orphanages were in a much more precarious state, relying primarily on social donations, volunteers, charity markets, and contributions from adults who had grown up there.

Maren was a volunteer who had appeared six years ago. Song Shi’s original self had first met him at a mutual aid exchange held between various orphanages, and later met him three or four more times when he came to give classes—mostly basic cultural subjects. Because Lomond Orphanage was relatively better off, Maren rarely visited; he spent most of his time running between other orphanages. Thus, they had only ever been "nodding acquaintances."

"It looks like you’ve remembered," Maren smiled, then seemed to recall something else. "And... calculating the time, you’ve indeed come of age."

"How long has it been since you left Lomond? Are you facing any difficulties?"

"I've been out for a while now." Song Shi thought for a moment and offered a smile of his own. "Things are actually alright. At least I can afford to eat. Speaking of which, Uncle Maren, what brings you out this way? It’s quite remote here."

"The Sprout Home needs to file a temporary proof of assets. Melissa was too busy, so she asked me to help take care of it," Maren said slowly. "It took a bit longer than expected, and there weren't many vehicles around when I left, so I just decided to walk back."

"Sprout Home" was a small orphanage in the Deep Moss District, and Melissa was the director, a woman in her fifties.

"I see..." Song Shi replied with a look of realization.

"Are you truly not having any difficulties?" Maren thought for a moment and pulled a personal terminal from his coat. "Oh, I just remembered, I still owe your director some money. Why don't you take it and pass it along to them for me?"

Song Shi was surprised. He could tell, of course, that the man didn't owe the director any money; he was saying this simply to find a way to give him some help—in a sense, he was the first kind person Song Shi had met since his rebirth.

But if it required a transfer... he couldn't let the man know that he was currently a "person of compromised credit."

"Uncle Maren, please hand it to the old director yourself," Song Shi said firmly.

Their eyes met for a few seconds. Maren was the first to look away and sighed, understanding what the young man meant. "Very well. I shall deliver it myself, then."

After a few more brief words, Song Shi politely declined the man's offer to walk him part of the way and took his leave.

After some time had passed, Maren rubbed his head, a look of confusion surfacing in his eyes.

"Why did Song Shi feel... so strange just now?"