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Doves are quite a major ingredient globally. In France, one of the countries famous for its cuisine, doves have been eaten for a very long time. Since the 16th century, French nobility has considered doves a delicacy, and they are still regarded as a rare treat found only in high-end restaurants in France today.

Countries influenced by France’s “noble and sophisticated culture” also view dove dishes as gourmet, and even in modern times, dove cuisine carries the elegant image of being an “ingredient enjoyed by nobles” in Europe.

Not to mention, in Egypt, people have long built dove houses resembling towers to raise and eat doves, treating them as restorative food, often served to guests when they arrive.

China is similar.

China also raised doves for cooking, using them in everything from simple roast preparations to various elaborate dishes. Doves have been a beloved ingredient among the Chinese for a long time, and they continue to be so. Thus, doves are anything but unfamiliar to the Chinese.

[Ha… one… two. Gotcha!]

So, without a hint of hesitation, the beggar grabbed a dove and twisted its neck.

He was gleeful at the thought of finally getting to feast after a long time.

And those who saw this….

[Ugh. You’re actually thinking of eating that dirty meat?]

…looked at him not with envy but with expressions like, “Look at that filthy dove he’s eating.”

It was only natural.

Just like doves are seen as dirty and lazy in Korea, they had a similar reputation in urban areas of China too. No matter how many decorations they attach to them, like symbols of peace or Olympic mascots, if you’ve even once witnessed a dove pecking at garbage or excrement on the street, it’s inevitable to form a “dirty” impression of them.

That’s why city dwellers, even if they wanted to eat doves, wouldn’t touch the ones in the city. There are clean doves coming from farms, so why would they?

But for a beggar, having that perception was nothing more than a full-bellied complaint.

A dirty image?

What did that matter?

Right now, his belly was tight against his back, feeling the pains of hunger, so what did it matter if it was dirty?

Even the Chinese don’t hesitate to roast up rats found in the fields, so it seemed trivial to reject the doves in the city just because they’re dirty. To the beggar, it felt no different than a complaint from someone well-fed or pretentious.

But hey, it wasn’t all that bad for him. Thanks to that perception, he could secure doves without any competitors, which was a win-win situation, right?

The beggar returned home, carrying the limp dove with its neck twisted.

Sizzle, sizzle.

And that day, the tempting aroma of roasted meat wafted far and wide….

The beggar expressed satisfaction with the meat he hadn’t had in so long, heading towards the park without even wiping the grease off his lips.

Just like yesterday, he was there to catch doves and fill his belly.

Surely, like before, others wouldn’t catch doves due to the preconceived notion of the dirty meat, allowing him to easily snag another chunk of dove meat….

With that hope in his heart, he set off for the park.

[Wow! Caught one!]

[There are lots of doves here!]

[Hey! That’s my trap! Don’t touch it!]

…But what awaited him was the crowd of people gathering in the park.

And the doves that should have been his.

Doves.

A bit dingy but with soft feathers.

Once stroked, they were smooth as silk, but when they were plucked, exposing their skin, and peeling off the skin revealed their beautifully pink flesh….

The dove that was meant to be his.

The dove that was supposed to be in his hands.

Now it was in someone else’s grasp….

[Huh…]

Their eyes met.

The dove looked a bit annoyed, but upon closer inspection, it was staring blankly at him.

Eyes intersect and lock.

Then the dove gazes at him with pleading eyes, fluttering its wings and moving its legs in a desperate effort to escape the grip holding it, scratching at the arm of the person holding it.

[W-What, what’s going on?!]

Such trivial resistance.

The dirty-white feathers fluffed and rustled, ending up in a disarrayed mess.

The beggar, seeing this, screamed and rushed into the crowd, shouting:

[What’s happening?!]

Another man, looking at him with disdain, replied bluntly.

[What do you think? Dove hunting.]

[But why…!]

[Why, you ask?]

A sneer escapes.

Glaring at the beggar as if saying how ridiculous he was.

[Because we’re hungry.]

[Uh… but…]

[Come on. We’re trying to eat too.]

So the man disappeared, leaving the beggar in a daze, staring blankly at the park.

People running around trying to catch doves. Some with baskets, some gathering rice or seeds to lure doves into snares, others just running barehanded trying to catch doves, even children were being utilized to chase them. Some digging holes in the ground, setting up makeshift traps with planks and cans to catch any dove that stepped in.

All sorts of people were scurrying about, trying to catch doves. Their frantic movements resembled a scene of office workers swarming around taxis at rush hour, or like workers trying to cram themselves into a subway that was already packed to the brim.

Humans took on similar shapes.

Considering they work for food and survival, those here stripped of layers of laborers or bourgeoisie would reveal a common sight when boiled down—working to fill their stomachs.

[…Yeah. I don’t want to eat a dirty dove.]

The beggar, watching them toil, murmured that.

Then he began to ramble about how doves he had caught yesterday were dirty, dirty doves. Eating them wouldn’t do any good and kept on muttering how such doves were bad for his health.

Then he turned his back, walking away, murmuring how even if he cooked them, there wouldn’t be much meat, and how it would only lead to exerting himself unnecessarily when just lying still was far better.

He slipped away from the park, knowing he couldn’t compete there anymore….

…

…

…

[ cough! ]

And then, someone began to cough.

* * *

[ cough! cough! Gack! Heh! ]

A violent sound of coughing, as if trying to expel his insides out.

In a fit of violent coughing, he seemed to be twisting the insides out, as if intending to retch out his innards to grab some food.

He groaned, trapped in agonizing pain tighter than he could bear, his body curling up in a futile effort to escape the pain as coughs continued to escape mercilessly.

Tears and snot streamed down, and no matter how much he prayed for the coughs to stop, it was pointless. Ah, the pain of lung disease, grief enveloping him with an incessant chill, mixed with the pungent stench wafting in from who-knows-where.

Each one, pure torment.

There’s no way to explain it as anything but pain….

And this was not just happening to one person.

[cough!]

[Gack! Ugh!]

It sounded more like the final breaths of the sick than mere coughs.

Some cried out, exerting themselves in pain, while others moaned weakly, producing a chilling sound typical of a neighborhood bedeviled by illness.

Yes.

It’s an epidemic.

When a bunch of people around start displaying similar symptoms—it’s apparent, an infectious disease is on the loose.

Could they have caught a cold due to unhygienic conditions and lack of nutrition?

Or perhaps pneumonia or tuberculosis?

Given that this is the perfect environment for such ailments, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume so.

However, unlike in the past, pneumonia and tuberculosis are no longer terrifying illnesses.

Those diseases were conquered long ago and could be treated without pouring a fortune into them.

They merely caused more trouble than a simple cold would.

Because of this, people regarded their symptoms as trivial, and the public security forces felt the same way.

So, they confined them to their homes utilizing standard methods, supplying the bare minimum of food, water, and medicine for pneumonia and tuberculosis. Then they threatened, “If your symptoms match, take your medicine. You can’t go out until you recover,” and simply vanished.

This behavior reaffirmed their indifference.

Nailed shut doors made of wooden planks.

Windows barred with metal grills….

The poor were now isolated in their homes.

Now, all they could do was take their medicine and heal, just as the public security forces advised.

That was the only way to get back outside….

They endured their tickling lungs and throats without even managing to take a real deep breath while taking their medication, hoping they would recover soon….

But.

[Ugh. Uhh….]

[My head, my head….]

Were they catching a sickness on top of their current ailments?

Had they caught a cold in their weakened state?

Another wave of suffering gripped them.

An indescribable agony that was on a whole different level from the pain squeezing their lungs.

A fire igniting within them, boiling their blood, and a massive hand squeezing their brains—such intense headaches.

An overwhelming need to bash their skulls open with a hammer to relieve that pressure…

And the pain that felt like it was crushing every bone in their bodies, mashing them to pieces only to stick them back together.

[Ah. Ah….]

[Ugh…. Ugh….]

Agony from their chest, twisting their insides, pulsing pain in their heads, and horrible heat radiating through their bodies, even breathing became difficult as dizziness and total numbness washed over them. From their fingertips, a creeping numbness was spreading throughout their bodies until the terrible pain made them fear death—

As if they might just urinate out of sheer fright from that excruciating agony that enveloped them….

…

…

…

The moment they open their eyes, pain assaults them, and amid suffering, they feel their consciousness slip away intermittently.

…

…

…

How long has it been?

The surrounding sounds were blurring, and a dizziness swept over their sight.

When they opened their mouths, they felt as though their insides might spew out instead of a cough, and if they tried to stand, their bones might shatter and scatter on the floor.

In that anguish where even their senses felt distorted….

“…Hey. Aren’t you resentful toward the others…?”

A whisper, so clear it seemed to slice through the chaos.

 

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