Perhaps you, if no one else, will be able to read this. You were a Scout, so I'm writing this just in case. Have your injuries healed? I'm sure your mother is plenty healthy. I'm doing fine in here. Though thinking of Ki-jung makes me cry. Even now, what happened that day doesn't seem real. It feels like a dream, and yet it doesn't. That day as I went out the gate, I suddenly knew where I needed to go. A house where such a grisly thing took place would surely not be easy to sell. I've struggled to hold on in this empty house. Still, thanks to the house being empty - what was her name, Moon-gwang? - I was able to give her a proper send off. I hear treeside burials are trendy. So hell, I did my best. Those real estate sharks sure are clever. They duped some people who had just arrived in Korea and managed to sell the house. With the parents working and the kids attending school, the family is usually out. But the damned housekeeper stays here 24 hours a day. Each time I go upstairs, I take my life into my hands. And it turns out Germans eat more than just sausage and beer. What a relief. Passing the time down here, everything starts to go hazy. Today at least, I was able to write you this letter. If I send out the letter this way every night, maybe someday you'll see it. So long.
You know what kind of plan never fails? No plan. No plan at all. You know why? Because life cannot be planned. Look around you. Did you think these people made a plan to sleep in the sports hall with you? But here we are now, sleeeping together on the floor. So, there's no need for a plan. You can't go wrong with no plans. We don't need to make a plan for anything. It doesn't matter what will happen next. Even if the country gets destroyed or sold out, nobody cares. Got it?