You go down the mountain, the wind gently pushing at your back as you descend. The path is uneven, with stones scattered beneath your feet, but your eyes remain fixed ahead. As you near the country, you spot a figure—a person resting by the roadside.
It’s a short man with messy black hair, goggles perched on his head. His motorcycle, a well-worn machine, is propped up beside him, gleaming under the fading sun. He’s a traveler, like you, seemingly taking a break from his journey.
[I'm not sure I can tell him I just got resurrected here... I'll just ask him about the town I'm headed to.]
"Hello, are you also headed towards that country? Can you tell me more about it? I don’t know anything about this place."
The man stretches and offers a casual smile. “Oh, that country is called the Country of Indifference.”
[I've never heard of a place like that. I did think that there was a chance I was resurrected into another world, but now that I realize I'm never going to see any of the people from my previous life again, it's hard to believe.]
"Apparently, the previous king of that country was so scared of not being loved back by people that he didn't try loving anyone himself."
[That sounds a lot like my previous life...]
"He must have led a sad life."
"Yes, he took his own life in the end because he couldn't keep living like that. The story says the rest of the people in that country are the same as the king."
"I see. Well, thank you for telling me an interesting story. I hope we’ll meet again."
You say goodbye to the fellow traveler and start to walk away, but you hear him call out behind you.
"My name is Gambo! What is yours?" the traveler shouted.
"I am me," you reply, the words slipping from your mouth without thought, leaving both him and yourself confused.
[Wait, what is my name? I don't remember it, and why did I say that I am me?]
The sun is dipping lower, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange. You quicken your pace, heading toward the distant gates of the country.
[I'll think about it when I have the time to.]
By the time you reach the gates, night has fallen. The massive wooden doors loom in front of you, two guards in old-fashioned uniforms standing under dim lanterns. Their smiles, broad and strange, catch you off guard.
[I thought no one in this country loved other people or was even happy?]
One of the guards steps forward, his eyes sharp yet welcoming. "Hello, what is your reason for entering this country?" he asks, voice formal but pleasant.
"Traveling."
"How long will you be staying?"
"Three days."
With a nod, the gates creak open. The guards raise their hands in a synchronized motion, shouting after you, "Enjoy your stay!"
Inside, the town is quiet, streets lined with old stone buildings. The faint glow of candlelight flickers through the windows, but not a soul stirs. The air is cool, and the silence is heavy.
You spot a sign for a two-story inn at the end of the road and make your way inside. The wooden floor creaks under your feet, and behind the counter stands an old woman, her eyes soft and warm.
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"Hello, I need a room for three days."
"That will be 30 coins."
You glance down at your bag and see only 50 coins. Spending that much for a room doesn’t sit right with you.
"I only have 20 coins. Would you be able to accept that? This inn seems pretty empty."
The old lady chuckles softly. "Oh dear, so young but so poor. Here you go, I’ll help you out."
She gently pushes away your coins and hands you a small bag instead.
"You get the room for free. It’s the first room on the second floor. And take these coins—a young fella like yourself needs it more than me."
[What's going on? These people are not at all like the story that traveler told me. I'm too tired to think about it.]
You thank her and head up the creaky stairs to your room.
[Resurrection... new world... my name...]
The bed is simple, but exhaustion overtakes you. You fall asleep as soon as your head touches the pillow.
Hours later, a burst of laughter echoes from the street below, jarring you awake.
You get dressed and walk down the stairs. The inn is quiet, and you see the old lady sitting behind the counter again, this time reading a newspaper.
"Excuse me... I have a question."
"What is wrong, dear?" She looks up and smiles kindly.
"This is... Why are you smiling? I thought this was supposed to be the Country of Indifference."
"It still is the name of this country, but no one here is indifferent anymore."
[What could've happened to this place to change all of these people...]
"Anymore? So you were indifferent before? What changed you?"
"The new king brought together the best scientists from across the country, and they created a potion that makes us love everyone. And everyone drank it to ensure we all love each other."
[You are in shock. You don't know what to say to this old lady. How can you tell her they're living a lie...]
"I need to step outside for a moment. I'll see you later."
You step outside for a walk. The streets are alive with smiling faces, and as you walk, everyone is waving at you, greeting you warmly.
As you're walking down the road, people stop to teach you things—how to build a tent, how to light a campfire—and they even give you a motorcycle for your travels. All you feel is gratitude... and sadness.
You ride the motorcycle back to the old inn, noticing how the sun is beginning to set. When you arrive, you see another motorcycle parked outside. When you enter, you see a familiar face.
"I knew we'd meet again."
It's Gambo. His bag is still slung over his back.
[Seems like he arrived just now.]
"Did you hear the story about what happened to these people?" you whisper to Gambo.
"Yeah, it seems pretty bizarre. I don't think it's smart to get involved in a country's customs and traditions."
"I get what you're saying, but... I don’t know what to do."
Your head is spinning, overwhelmed by the strange events of the past day.
[I wanted to see and experience for myself what life is, but I don’t think these people are living either… Being forced to act a certain way by some mysterious potion is no life.]
"Anyway, when will you be leaving?" you ask Gambo.
"At noon tomorrow."
"Make sure you leave at noon exactly."
With that, you walk up the stairs towards your room, leaving Gambo puzzled.
You lie down on your bed, thinking about your plan for tomorrow, but sleep quickly overtakes you.
As you wake up, you check the time, quickly get dressed, and rush outside.
You hop on your motorcycle and ride toward the center of the city.
[I remember they have a wooden platform with a podium there, I just have to arrive in time.]
You arrive at the center and stand on the platform.
Many travelers don’t pass through this country because of the rumors, but you’ve become popular here quickly, which alone brings a crowd to see what’s going on.
“You people are slaves! This country controls you with a potion, making you believe that love can be created in a lab. But love isn’t something you can force. It’s supposed to be free! To love someone means to forgive them, even if they hurt you over and over. But with this potion, you’re just pretending, and deep down, you know it.”
You glance up at the clock tower—almost noon. As the bell strikes, a stone whizzes past your head. Then, more follow. The crowd has turned hostile.
You jump onto your motorcycle, speeding toward the gates.
[Gambo should be leaving right now…]
People are chasing you, but you spot the gates opening in the distance with Gambo riding through.
The gates start to close, but you push forward, unsure if you’ll make it. Still, you keep riding.
Somehow, you slip through just before they shut and catch up with Gambo, your heart racing.
"As I was riding to the gates, I passed by your speech—it was quite something," Gambo says with a chuckle.
"It was a stupid idea, thinking I could change a whole country. They loved me minutes ago, but their love was so artificial they turned on me as soon as I spoke against them."
"Oh, why do people call it a country? These places seem more like cities," you ask.
[Even I called it a city a few times…]
"They’re the size of cities, but since each has its own customs and traditions, people call them countries," Gambo explains.
"Honestly, it was fun meeting you. You’re puzzling to me. I can’t tell what you’re thinking behind that expressionless face, but it’s refreshing."
"It was fun meeting you too, Gambo."
"Well, I’d better hurry on to the next country. I hope we cross paths again."
You hoped so too.