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Now reading: Chapter 7 from How to Live as an Immortal, a Action novel by Hellboy.

Chapter 7

vodka martini, shaken, not stirred

* * *

* * *

With that, Winter and Arnold regained their peace. Just looking at their beaming faces upon hearing the job was completed was enough to know.

Leaving the hospital, I returned ho and collapsed onto the sofa.

Then, I pulled a smart device from my coat. Even though I didn’t have a device terminal, it didn’t an I was cut off from modern civilization. There were more than enough alternatives.

Countless streams of information flashed across the hologram that floated up. Popular posts on the community were updated every minute, and urgent news was selected by the second.

Even though it was my eyes looking at the screen, it felt like even my ears were being tickled.

The Do seed lively again today.

Among the headlines, one phrase caught my eye.

[‘New Delbuyer’ announces rger with ‘Saita’]

“New Delbuyer.”

Among the gacorps based in Do No.3, it was on the smaller side in terms of scale, but it held a position as an erging powerhouse. Its main business was military supplies and defense.

Fittingly, it was also infamous for its ruthless managent.

Frequent layoffs were one thing, but they didn’t even shy away from delaying wages. In an era when the basic inco system was in place, it felt like a barbaric act. Yet, people didn’t quit. Working for a gacorp was a kind of power in itself.

A pitiful and pathetic reality.

After floundering around in that sea of information for a while longer, I eventually shut off the smart device when there was nothing else to see, and turned my gaze to the fireplace.

It wasn’t actually installed.

A perfectly rendered hologram rely dazzled my vision.

Crackle. Flas flickered irregularly, and above them hung a calendar.

At the pawn shop, Shade treated like a ghost clinging to old newspapers, but I too was a believer in analog.

It couldn’t be helped.

People always sought what was familiar.

[July 15th, 2321]

“Nineteen years this year.”

I swallowed the muttered words that escaped and looked into the mirror. My publicly known age was 39.

It had been 19 years since I left Do No.1 and settled in Do No.3.

As I’d always done, I introduced myself as 20 years old. No one disagreed back then. I really did look it.

But the passage of ti had warped that perception. Compared to back then, I hadn’t changed at all. It was getting to the point where it wouldn’t be strange for people to feel sothing was off.

As civilization advanced, so did technology related to anti-aging, but that was a luxury reserved for the wealthy. Just maintaining it cost hundreds of millions—sotis even billions.

For a fixer without a proper identity, it was too extravagant. Wealth and power always went hand in hand, didn’t they? Eventually, soone would start asking questions.

‘It was about ti.’

Twenty years.

That was the limit I had set for myself. If I stayed any longer, I’d inevitably be exposed, whether I liked it or not.

‘Should I go to No.2?’

China, Saudi Arabia, Germany, India, the United States, and South Africa.

Listed in the order in which the Dos were completed, that’s how it went. Of course, those countries no longer represented the Dos. The borders of nations and ethnicities had already disappeared during the Third World War.

The only thing that truly mattered was the identification number assigned at that ti.

China was No.1, and South Africa was No.6.

The Do I was in now—No.3—had once been Germany. If I wanted to reach Do No.2, which had once been Saudi Arabia, it would be a harsh journey. Especially for soone like , without any legal status, the obstacles were many.

More than that, failure for wasn’t really failure. Even if I froze to death mid-crossing, I wouldn’t actually die right there.

Not dying and not aging—while certainly a blessing—was also, in many ways, a curse.

In the worst-case scenario, I could end up spending an eternity conscious and aware.

And since I’d already experienced it once before, I had no choice but to remain cautious.

“Hoo.”

A sigh escaped , naturally.

This drifting lifestyle was starting to get tireso. Just as I got used to a place, I had to pick myself up and move on. No.3 Do was no different. Leaving behind ties like Arnold and Shade wasn’t going to be easy.

But even so, it was ti to wake from the dream.

Crackle.

As the fire popped once more, I stood up from my seat.

With the feeling that the end was drawing near, I suddenly wanted to see a friend’s face again—for the first ti in a long while.

* * *

Do No.3 was a massive city and a nation all in one. To support a population nearing a hundred million, it had to be superior in every aspect. That included the sheer scale of the land itself.

And yet, even after crossing a district as large as a tropolitan city, it had taken only a few minutes.

It was all thanks to the implentation of a single mode of transportation.

The high-speed train that traveled through vacuum tubes—the Hyperloop.

Designed to keep air resistance and ground friction as close to zero as possible, this system raced through the vast underground network at speeds near Mach level.

A marvel of civilization that even outpaced sound.

Before your tea could cool, you could reach one end of the Do from the other.

Stepping out of the Hyperloop stop, I saw a light rain falling.

A mont later, a flash flickered overhead, followed by lightning striking in the distance. But there was nothing to be surprised about. It was all a calculated hologram.

The do-shaped roof that covered the entire Do was another sky—one crafted by humanity.

Of course, it could replicate the four seasons without fail.

July marked the beginning of the rainy season, so the gathering of dark clouds was only natural.

What made it different from the original natural environnt was that it began at a scheduled ti and ended precisely as forecast.

That was why I hadn’t brought an umbrella.

I knew it would stop in exactly one minute.

Sure enough, the torrential downpour that had fallen like a waterfall soon tapered off.

I stepped out into the street and walked along roads engineered so precisely that not a single puddle remained.

Even though day had passed and night had co, the bustling district remained lively. A city that never slept. Unconsciously, I found a lightness in my steps, caught up in the atmosphere.

As the noise gradually faded, the seemingly eternal lights also dimd. In a dusky alleyway, I spotted a bar still open for business.

When I opened the door and walked in, the hall manager, Aria, approached .

“Good evening, Mr. Shin. The master’s back today.”

“Yeah?”

I already knew. I had tid my visit deliberately for that reason. Just the thought of seeing a face I hadn’t seen in two weeks made oddly glad.

Following Aria to the bar counter, I was greeted by a familiar face.

Pale gray hair and skin lined with wrinkles. Yet he had a body so firm that it defied the label of an old man.

All of it pointed to one person.

Thomas Russell.

The bartender and owner of this place, ‘Attitude.’

“It’s you. Co on in.”

Sitting across from him, I nodded.

“What will you be drinking today?”

“Vodka martini, shaken, not stirred.”

“I hear that every ti, but does it really make a difference?”

Thomas tilted his head curiously as he reached for the shaker instead of a spoon. Though he had only beco a bartender later in life, it didn’t an he was inexperienced. It had already been nearly twenty years. Still, there was always sothing puzzling about my usual order.

“You don’t know this famous line? Master, you’re still young.”

“There you go again. I’m old enough to have a crooked back now.”

“In front of ?”

“Point taken.”

We were two people who shared a comfortable familiarity. Our relationship had transcended age long ago.

At this point, it wasn’t an exaggeration to say that Thomas was the only person who knew my secret.

Maybe that’s why.

When I was with Thomas, my words ca more freely.

“I’m thinking of leaving. It’ll take a few weeks to wrap things up, though.”

“I see.”

Thomas replied quietly, gazing at the half-emptied vodka martini. He had sensed the signs, vaguely. Though he hadn’t expected to confess so soon.

“Where will you go?”

“Well, I’m thinking of heading to Do No.2 for now.”

“In that case, why not go to Mars instead?”

“Mars?”

The unexpected suggestion made let out a low hum without realizing. Co to think of it, I had only ever wandered across continents. I had never considered a third destination. But now that the thought had been planted, it felt like there was no better place to start anew.

Mars.

Before the outbreak of the Third World War, it had been an unknown frontier. People were aware of its existence, conscious of it, but never able to reach it.

But now, it was just another target of colonization. Mars belonged to no one, yet could belong to anyone.

It was virtually a paradise where fortunes lay waiting, and even now, countless groups and organizations were flying toward it. Status and background held no aning there. It was, in many ways, the perfect place to blend in.

All of it was thanks to humanity’s astonishing progress—or so we’d like to believe. In truth, Mars’s transformation was due to the help of the Second.

Originally, what they wanted to transform was Earth.

Apparently, the frozen ground seed like an uncomfortable environnt even to them, and they expressed a willingness to help without hesitation.

But humanity had already begun to conquer the Ice Age.

All disasters had begun with the eruption of Yellowstone, but people knew it was just a nightmare that would eventually end.

Purification efforts had reached full montum, even yielding encouraging results near the equator. It was still around -30°C, but compared to the -50°C of before, it was a massive improvent.

So the leaders of each Do made a proposal—to terraform Mars instead. At the ti, it seed so absurd that it could only be explained as madness.

It was more like a signal, a bluff to test the other party’s limits, in hopes of extracting more benefits. But surprisingly, the Second responded with boundless affection toward humanity.

By anchoring an atmosphere to the Red Planet.

There were many trials and errors afterward, but by now, those were just mories of the past. Daily life had adapted so fully that they were even selling Mars as a tourist destination.

“The world’s really changed. In the old days, only a chosen few could go to Mars.”

“Co to think of it, didn’t you say your family took a trip to Mars? That must’ve been expensive. Even if it’s open now, it can’t be cheap.”

“Didn’t I tell you? My son got hired as a personal physician for one of the moguls. They even gave him a private clinic.”

“He made it big.”

He was a child I had only seen a few tis when he was young—nothing more than a faint connection. And yet, to think he’d grown so much already was astonishing.

It was then that Thomas’s hand, which had been wiping a glass, suddenly stopped.

“I’m proud of him, sure, but at the sa ti… I wonder how long I’ll be around. I just hope I live long enough to see my grandkid grow up.”

Average life expectancy had stretched to 150, but the world had grown equally harsh. As much as there were technologies to prolong life, there were just as many reasons to die.

And Thomas wasn’t as young as he used to be, either.

He was already nearing eighty.

Suddenly, Thomas turned his head and asked,

“Since we’re on the subject… what does it feel like—never dying, never aging?”

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