He Was Already Dead, Just Not Done Breathing

"Take him to the cemetery?"

"Yes, the cemetery south of town. Bury the body there, and your job is done." Old Razi lifted his sagging eyelids and glanced at Vanessa's strange expression. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"A body? Bury it?"

"Of course a body has to be buried. What else would you do with it?" Old Razi snapped back.

The muscles in Vanessa's cheek twitched unnaturally. She must have been sick: hearing that the body would receive a proper burial instead of being sold actually filled her with an absurd sense of unfamiliarity and... regret?

Burying the dead was only right, but given this hospital's bone-deep greed, spending money on a burial instead of squeezing out every last bit of value? That was far too unusual.

"Does he have some infectious disease that makes him impossible to sell?"

"What are you talking about? Those with infectious diseases are worth even more," Old Razi said casually. "It's just that this corpse paid while he was alive, so naturally we'll treat him, then bury him."

For a moment, Vanessa had no idea what to say. The hospital actually honored its word?

"Remember this, young lady: we run a legal business here. We don't touch anything illegal," Old Razi said solemnly.

Vanessa had no answer. Resigning herself, she went to move the heavy body bag, but after dragging it only a few steps, she suddenly let out a short, sharp cry and fell back onto the floor as though she had been burned.

"What's wrong?" Old Razi jumped.

"Th-the body's still alive!"

"What? Impossible!"

Trembling, Vanessa pointed at the bag. Its opening had somehow come loose, revealing a gray-haired head. It was an old man, slowly opening his eyes.

Old Razi's expression changed. He hurried over to the cabinet with a clatter of footsteps and pulled out a thick ledger, wetting his fingers with spit as he rapidly flipped through it. A moment later, he let out a long breath and relaxed.

"Gave me a fright... He's dead! It's recorded right here, clear as day!"

"But he's still moving! Look!"

"That doesn't count. You don't look at him to see whether he's dead; you look at the ledger." Old Razi impatiently waved the book in his hand.

"His hospital money's run out, so he's dead. Still breathing? That just means he hasn't finished breathing his last. Under the contract, all we need to do is bury him. I'll say it again: we're a legal business."

"But, but he..."

"Don't worry. He definitely can't scrape together another Leo. I've met this man. His children have already divided up his estate and are just waiting for him to be buried. His death is good for everyone."

Vanessa listened blankly to this cruel sentence. The old man in the bag watched her quietly, his eyes empty, as though the object Old Razi described, schemed against by his children and waiting to be put in the ground, had nothing to do with him.

Perhaps Lachi was right. He had died long ago; he simply had yet to be buried.

"Get going, and come straight back." With that, Old Razi returned to his room and slammed the door shut.

Vanessa looked at the old man in the body bag, then at the cramped morgue. She opened her mouth, but had no idea what to say.

What should she do, and what could she do?

"Child, he's right. Just take me to be buried." The old man in the bag suddenly spoke, his voice weak but calm.

"I... I can't..." Vanessa's voice was thick with tears.

The old man laboriously lifted his eyelids to look at her, seemingly a little surprised. He shook his head. "You only need to take me there. I'll breathe my last."

Vanessa raised her head in some surprise, then understanding dawned on her face.

The old man had no warm clothing on, only a thin hospital gown. A jolting journey out of town on a freezing winter night... that was murder in itself. Freezing to death was the end he had chosen and the hospital had tacitly approved.

"So don't worry, child. None of this has anything to do with you. You never wanted to hurt me. You're a kindhearted child."

The old man struggled to muster a smile. It was clear that his life was nearing its end. Perhaps he would breathe his last in a little while even without the cold outside.

He had been able to live because he once had money; he was about to die because that money had run out.

In New Scandinavia, money defined life better than a heartbeat did. Old Razi was right: people without money were already dead.

"But... it shouldn't be like this!" An inexplicable surge of grief and anger rushed into Vanessa's throat. She crouched down and clutched her head, her voice bewildered and choked with sobs. "This is a hospital. It shouldn't be like this... Hospitals are supposed to save people, to treat them. Even making me move bodies would be fine, but how can you... how can you trade lives for money?! Shouldn't life be the most precious thing of all? This isn't right! It isn't right!"

She hated her own weakness, hated her own kindness. It made her suffer and got in the way of her staying alive.

Kindness was a rare and expensive luxury, one she did not deserve.

Old Razi's door was violently shoved open. The old man, usually more dead than alive, limped out with his cane, spewing curses as he angrily drove Vanessa out.

Then he threw the cart and body bag out together and brandished his cane as though he were about to chase after her.

Vanessa had never seen Old Razi so angry. She stumbled out, pulling the cart. Frightened, she scrambled to grab it and fled the backyard.

Even after she had run a long way, those curses, mingling anger with some deeper pain and rasping like torn, worn-out bellows, still buzzed in her ears.

Vanessa pushed the cart, still shaken. The way Old Razi had looked just now, he had practically wanted to eat her alive!

"Wh-why was he so angry?"

The bag on the cart had not been tied shut. The old man raised his head, his amber-yellow eyes looking deeply at Vanessa, then shook his head with a smile. "Child, you're still too young. He just saw his younger self, the self who was once just as 'kind.'"

Vanessa scratched her head in confusion, finding the old man's words rather baffling.

"Oh, right, are you all right? H-here!" Vanessa took off her coat and wrapped it around the old man. He was just about to say something when a slice of bread was suddenly held before his eyes.

The old man froze for a moment, looking at the slice of bread with some astonishment.

It was a golden slice of bread. Though it had been sitting for some time, one could still see how soft and delicious it had once been. The sheen of honey had not entirely faded, and precious chopped nuts were finely scattered over it-bread like this probably cost a dozen or more Leo a pound.

He lowered his head to look at the coat covering him. Though reasonably warm, it was clearly somewhat shabby. The dark bloodstains and bullet holes in it seemed to tell a story. His gaze moved to the girl.

The girl's cheeks were red from the cold, and traces of panic still lingered in her eyes, yet she tried hard to give him an awkward smile.