Seojun felt as though he was trapped in a bizarre dream, where the familiar suddenly morphed into the peculiar. Was his mind playing tricks due to blood loss? He moved quietly, massaging his tense neck, with the notorious Hamon campsite looming ahead.
Everything felt surreal. Seojun and Bobby locked eyes, the latter’s gaze a mix between horror and disbelief, as though Seojun had just stepped out of a horror flick.
Isn’t this the time when that man-eating monster is supposed to be active?
“Why did you bring the girls if we’re just going to sleep separately?”
A voice filled with frustration echoed throughout the cabin. Catching Bobby’s grumbling, William, with his neatly shaved head, shot him a sharp look. The flickering candlelight cast shadows that accentuated the firm muscles of William’s arms.
Seojun had already mentally packed his bags. Though he couldn’t brag about being the best clerk at Fred’s store, finding someone as competent as him wouldn’t be easy. For years, he had loyally served at the secluded Hamon convenience store without a single grumble. Naturally, he was bound to feel a sense of loss.
Seojun’s mind wandered through daydreams of traveling through America in a truck. His striking features were etched in a distant gaze, fingers absentmindedly tracing the surface of a lemon. Suddenly, the convenience store door swung open once more.
There was a time when Independence Day meant August 15th to Seojun, not July 4th. Back then, his family name was different, but his first name—Seojun—stayed the same.
A young man in a bright red uniform vest, which could easily remind one of a die-hard Republican supporter, stood in front of a beverage display, rubbing his smooth chin. He looked thoughtful, trying to figure out the best way to organize the jumbled assortment of drinks in front of him.