#065. The Old Man and the Rock Deer (3)
—
The old man’s name was John Grid.
He was the head of **Kernel Water**, a company managing water resources in Sector 40.
“In the past, clean water was much more expensive than it is now. The poor couldn’t even dream of drinking it.”
Even today, bottled water was costly—about 1,000 shillings for a 500ml plastic bottle, roughly the price of a decent meal.
This was because water sources clear enough for drinking were incredibly scarce.
As a result, most sector residents quenched their thirst with cheap, processed beverages. Drinking cool, clean water was a rarity, reserved only for special occasions.
“Was the Elton River not clean even back then?” Ray asked.
In Sector 50, no one was old or wise enough to recount its history. Viola’s tales were mostly fanciful—no, mystical—stories, offering little reliable information.
Ray had assumed the Elton River must have been cleaner in the past.
But John’s response dashed that assumption.
“Was the Elton River clean back then? Far from it. Its waters were murky, littered with floating garbage, no different from its current state. It was unfit as a water source,” John added. “I’ve heard it’s been that way since my grandfather’s grandfather’s time.”
Ray pondered. How far back would one have to go to find the Elton River unpolluted?
John continued his story.
He had once been a nomad, a way of life that had all but disappeared.
“We roamed the desertified wastelands, moving from one oasis to another once the water ran dry.”
Settling in the sector was impossible due to the territorial nature of existing residents.
The nomads, with nothing but their livestock, wandered the wilderness. Finding the next oasis was a matter of survival for the tribe.
“As nomads with no land or resources to call our own, our desire for property—especially land and water—was far greater than most.”
John endured the hardships of nomadic life, fueled by a dream: to one day break free from the tribe’s cursed fate.
But when their settlement’s oasis dried up, his tribe was forced to move once again. It was a time of drought, when everything was parched.
Someday, I will cast off the yoke placed upon my tribe.
That was the thought that sustained me during the harsh life in the wilderness.
“The oasis at our settlement dried up. My group had no choice but to leave again.”
It was a time when the rains had stopped, and everything was withering away.
Everyone wore heavy expressions as they dismantled their tents, driven into the ground.
They loaded their belongings onto the backs of livestock and embarked on an uncertain journey.
Weeks passed as we moved from place to place, but no trace of water could be found.
Everyone was drained, both physically and mentally.
**“It’s over. Even Mohail’s group disappeared after their last journey. They must have died without finding an oasis.”**
The group John belonged to collapsed into despair.
The hope they had clung to when setting out had long been scorched away under the blazing sun.
**“Not yet. Everyone, wait. I’ll find an oasis and return for you all.”**
Only John refused to let go of hope.
It was both his duty as the tribe’s next leader and an expression of his long-held dream of reviving their people.
But determination alone does not solve problems, as reality always has its way.
**“I must… find water… an oasis… I can’t give up here…”**
For days, John wandered the wilderness alone, but he found no oasis—no sign of moisture in the cracked earth.
Only the endlessly fractured ground, scattered animal bones, and the blinding sun filled his vision.
And then—*thud!*
John fell to his knees and collapsed.
His vision dipped and tilted as he landed on his side, feeling the parched earth against his cheek.
His throat burned with thirst.
It felt as though all the moisture had evaporated from his body, leaving only a husk behind.
In his hazy thoughts, he wondered:
**“Is this the end?”**
Was this the fate predetermined for him and his people?
He felt bitter.
Bitter that his dream of reviving the tribe was fading without even a chance to take shape.
He felt sorry.
Sorry for the people of his tribe, waiting for him to bring back an oasis.
He struggled to raise a fist, intending to strike the ground in frustration, but his fist fell limp before it could land.
*Thud.*
**“….”**
What if we had land to settle on?
What if we had wealth so great that no one could dismiss us?
But these thoughts, dreams that now held no meaning or substance, were futile.
John slowly closed his eyes, giving up on everything.
It was then, as his vision narrowed, that a shimmering blue form appeared in the distance.
The shape grew closer, stopping before him.
And then—
*Whooshhhhhh—*
Something cold poured over him.
Like a waterfall, endlessly and continuously.
Instinctively, John opened his mouth, drinking in the liquid.
*Gulp. Gulp.*
It was water.
Water purer and more refreshing than any he had ever tasted.
His throat and Adam’s apple moved ceaselessly.
Moisture returned to his body.
His parched skin began to heal, and his failing organs regained their rhythm.
**“Puhah!”**
John gasped for air and stood up.
His mind cleared, and he surveyed the situation with sharper eyes.
He froze.
Above him, in the air, a stream of water was pouring endlessly, as if a small rain cloud had parked itself above.
And in front of him stood a *Rockdeer.*
From its size, John guessed it was a young adult, much like himself in human terms.
*Thrum-thrum-thrum—*
Behind it, thousands of Rockdeer moved in a great herd.
But none of this distracted him from the being before him.
**“You are…”**
On the forehead of the Rockdeer in front of him, a brilliant blue gemstone gleamed with an otherworldly light.
Its body shimmered as if it were made of liquid water.
What was this?
Was it real?
Heart pounding, John reached out a hand toward the creature.
The stream of water stopped.
The Rockdeer took a step back.
**“…”**
There was a moment of stillness.
Then, the Rockdeer stepped forward and gently pressed its forehead against John’s hand.
It turned away and bounded into the air, disappearing into the herd of Rockdeer.
*Thrum-thrum-thrum—*
It was long after the Rockdeer had vanished that John finally returned to his senses.
He rose unsteadily and began walking in the direction the Rockdeer had gone.
**“This is…”**
John’s eyes widened in disbelief.
Around a vast oasis, animals of the wilderness gathered to drink.
There wasn’t just one oasis—there were many, lush and teeming with life.
“I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was a scene that could only be described as a miracle.”
The story that followed was simple.
The oases, vast and deep, would last the tribe a lifetime.
With this abundance, John’s long-postponed dream took form.
He started a water business using the resources of the oases. Over decades, *Kernel Water* grew into a dominant player in the water supply industry across the 40th sector.
“I’ve always tried to supply water at relatively affordable prices. After all, I know better than anyone the pain of not having access to clean water.”
Donations, charity events, and more—
John listed the numerous efforts he had made to contribute to society.
As he spoke, the young bodyguard’s gaze was filled with deep respect and pride.
Yet, the success of Kernel Water did not last forever.
The seemingly inexhaustible oases eventually dried up over the years.
On top of that, the water supply business had become saturated with competitors.
“Nothing is like it used to be,” John said with a distant look in his eyes.
It was inevitable, he added, a reality shaped by time’s unrelenting march.
No matter how vast and abundant a water source might seem, it would eventually run dry—just as the body and mind inevitably wither with age.
Without securing a new water source, it was impossible to sustain the business.
“But every potential site has already been developed. So many companies have entered the water supply industry now. It’s nothing like the old days when there were vast, untapped regions waiting to be explored.”
John’s gaze drifted toward a small plastic water bottle in the corner of the table.
The label bore the emblem of a rock deer and the words:
**Kernel Water.**
“…”
Why had he only realized it now?
It was the very brand of bottled water that had disappeared from store shelves when he was young.
“As production decreased, the number of stores stocking our products inevitably dwindled as well.”
John explained that internal conflicts had plagued the company as well.
Frequent disputes and struggles over profits among the tribe members running the company had disrupted its operations.
“Money does that, doesn’t it? Watching blood relatives turn on each other and fight so viciously—it’s chilling.”
Sensing it was time to leave the industry, John dismantled the company.
And then, he returned to Sector 48.
To once again meet the blue-jeweled rock deer that had changed his life.
“I never thought that meeting was a dream. It was as real as anything. I can still vividly feel the chill of that water on my body.”
John’s expression grew earnest as he recalled the encounter.
“To find that rock deer, I’ve invested an enormous amount of money and time. But I’ve gained nothing. Perhaps, deep down, I already knew.”
John paused to catch his breath.
“That finding it in this vast wilderness is impossible. This search is nothing more than a way to soothe my futile hopes.”
Even so, he could not give up.
To meet the creature once more and thank it for saving his life—that was the final wish he hoped to fulfill before leaving this world.
“I just want to see it again.”
As John shared his long story, a single, unmistakable emotion glimmered in his expression.
A vivid and intense feeling that was impossible to conceal.
It was a color of emotion that Ray had recently been encountering more and more often.
The other swirling emotions accompanying it made discerning the truth of John’s story surprisingly easy.
“This isn’t a fabrication.”
John had truly seen the blue-jeweled rock deer.
It was an unexpected breakthrough.
Until Ray reached the hotel staircase, he had thought the client’s story was far more likely to be a fabrication than reality.
But now, it seemed undeniable.
The tale of the blue gemstone and the rock deer was genuine.
Of course, there remained the possibility that John had been hallucinating.
But the conviction radiating from him suggested otherwise.
Ray’s lips trembled slightly—a clear sign of joy, though so faint as to be almost imperceptible.
“Well, what do you think? Wouldn’t this story be enough to captivate the young gentleman and lady at the front? If it’s agreeable to you, would you share your true identity now?”
Ray hesitated before responding.
The story of the blue-jeweled rock deer felt close to reality.
Yet, from a practical standpoint, the odds of that rock deer still roaming the wastelands of Sector 48 were—
**“Extremely low.”**
According to Veronica, the average lifespan of a rock deer was 15 years.
If that were true, the rock deer John had encountered would likely have died of old age.
Even if it had some mysterious power and managed to survive, it was more likely to have moved to another region.
Still, the clue was too significant to dismiss.
After weighing his options, Ray made a decision.
**“I’ll divide the team.”**
One group would search for the blue rock deer.
The other would conduct inquiries within the sector.
By splitting the team, they could minimize time lost if the first search yielded no results.
Veronica and Philip would handle the inquiries.
Ray would lead the search for the rock deer.
This arrangement had another advantage—keeping the others in the sector would reduce their risk if dangers arose in the wilderness.
However…
**“I’ll need someone who knows about rock deer.”**
Tracking a herd of rock deer alone would be difficult.
Ray needed a guide—a skilled and experienced tracker who understood the creatures.
**“Who could that be…?”**
Just as the thought crossed his mind, two things happened simultaneously.
The answer popped into Ray’s head.
And—
**Knock, knock.**
A knock echoed from the door.
