Chapter 3: Hobbies

The movie ended.

The dumbbell in Roddy’s hand was soaked with sweat. He showed no intention of resting and immediately changed into his running shoes, ready for his nightly run.

8:00 PM.

The brightness on the streets still rivaled that of daytime, thanks to the dense network of streetlights and the permanent luminous panels affixed to every building’s exterior. Additionally, each street had its own team of sanitation workers on round-the-clock shifts; they wore glowing gear and patrolled the often-overlooked shadowy corners, regularly maintaining the streetlights.

Roddy put on his headphones, filled his playlist with action movie soundtracks, and started his run around a park not far from home.

His pace was three minutes and thirty seconds per kilometer.

But shortly after he began, he felt a gust of wind behind him.

Another runner had caught up, taller and bigger in build than Roddy by a noticeable margin.

They brushed past each other without a word, but a faint twitch at the corner of their mouths suggested a silent acknowledgment.

In fact, these two had known each other for some time, having met on the park’s track six months prior. Roddy couldn’t quite keep up with the other’s pace, but it didn’t affect his spirit.

Three hours later, inside the park restroom,

Roddy stood at the sink, wringing the sweat from his shirt.

When he looked up, his reflection showed a young man with a slightly aged, yellowed complexion. His short, straight black hair was drenched in sweat. Compared to a typical high schooler, he looked somewhat malnourished and prematurely weathered.

Suddenly—whizz!

Something flew through the restroom door.

Roddy’s reflexes were incredible; he raised his hand instantly and caught the object without fail.

It was a bottle of vitamin drink.

The runner from before appeared as well, squeezing in beside Roddy at the sink. He used a towel he carried to wipe the sweat from his brow. Despite the high pace, this man barely made a sound while breathing.

“Thanks,” Roddy said, gulping down the drink, which bore a German label. This new type of energy beverage was expensive, and it was rare for a high schooler like him to afford one.

The mirror reflected a blond man, handsome and mature, with a trace of stubble. It was clear they were not from the same country.

Yet, the man spoke Mandarin with a slight accent: “Entering school next year?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a pity. If you were enrolling this year, I could have directly connected you. Your perseverance and physical condition have reached the company’s average recruitment standard.

Next year will be a different matter. We’ll talk then.”

As he spoke, the blond man pinched Roddy’s arm approvingly, nodding with satisfaction.

“By the way, with your qualifications, you should be eligible for early ‘social practice.’

I happen to have an opening. Interested? If you finish it early, next year you can focus solely on training your body and mind, avoiding any ‘practice accidents’ before enrollment.”

Roddy was surprised—such a valuable opportunity had appeared twice in a single day.

“I already have an appointment. I expect to start practice in about a week.”

“Oh? No wonder. Someone as outstanding as you is surely a key candidate at school. Can you share the practice’s focus? What type? School arrangements tend to be more conservative.”

“Not sure.”

The blond man wanted to press further but felt he might be overstepping. Instead, he simply patted Roddy on the shoulder.

“Here—this is for you.”

He handed Roddy a moderately thick, egg-white colored business card, the personal details printed in Roman letters.

Though they had known each other for half a year, they hadn’t exchanged contacts due to work.

Frederick Lofi

Contact Number: LOFI-██████

“If you encounter any dangerous situations during practice, call this number. I’ll come as soon as possible. Of course, if you face any special circumstances, you can call too.

But only for [danger].”

Lofi emphasized the word “danger” in Russian.

“Thank you.”

Though their conversations had been limited to running, Roddy understood that Lofi’s identity was extraordinary. Having a connection like him could greatly aid his future enrollment.

“See you tomorrow night.”

Lofi left.

Roddy continued studying the tasteful card, regretting the absence of any company affiliation—only a name and phone number.

Tonight’s conversation heightened his anticipation for the upcoming social practice.

Practice came in many forms, each with varying difficulty.

Securing a high-difficulty practice stamp on one’s personal record could significantly increase the chance of direct employment at the company upon enrollment. Roddy believed that someone as talented as the class leader would not settle for easy practice projects.

On the way home, it was already midnight. The city streets remained brilliantly lit, maintaining daytime brightness.

Back home, Roddy went through his usual routine of inspecting every curved nook to ensure the long-lasting lights were functioning. After feeding the cockatoo perched on the balcony, he climbed into his personal bed.

The lights had to stay on during sleep.

Not just for Roddy—everyone living here was accustomed to sleeping under light. Darkness made them uncomfortable and unable to rest.

One week passed.

Roddy had little interest in the concept of holidays. Apart from grocery shopping and nightly runs, he stayed home, indulging in his favorite activities: watching DVDs and drawing.

He loved and excelled at sketching characters from films.

Sometimes, bursts of inspiration led him to design his own characters fitting the B-movie style, especially focusing on masks. Roddy dreamed of one day crafting a mask from his drawings to wear at events like cosplay conventions or Halloween.

At this moment, he was fixated on a mask drawing pinned to the left side of his desk—the most satisfying design he had made so far. He planned to have it custom-made at a leather shop once he successfully enrolled.

As he admired the mask, a buzz on his wrist snapped him back to reality. It was the first call he’d received since the national founding day.

He swiped the green button to answer, and the voice on the other end nearly shouted.

“Roddy! Practice day is tomorrow. You’ve got to come out today; we’re meeting early to buy supplies needed for practice.”

“Supplies? What kind?”

“Of course! My practice area is in the outskirts—we need to prepare a lot.”

“Class leader, can you roughly tell me what we need? If I already have some at home, I won’t have to buy them.”

“Don’t worry! Since I’m asking for your help, I’ll cover all the costs. Pick whatever you want, but it has to be top quality.

The only thing you need to contribute is your body! After all, you’re the only one in class whose physical grades surpass mine.

If you get through this practice smoothly, my family might even give you a pretty nice bonus.”

“Oh.”

“An hour from now, meet at the terminal supermarket.”

The call ended.