7

Turning off the faucet, Sorn grabbed a towel to cover himself and walked outside, shivering slightly from the cold. Just as he opened the still-empty wardrobe, he heard the door open.

There stood a man carrying a fairly large bag—he recognized this man, the one who had approached him in uniform after he had dealt with the zombies, and undoubtedly the same man who had brought him to this building.

"..."

"..."

Both of them stood frozen, neither making a move to speak. The man's eyes widened as if he were seeing something that shouldn't be in this world. It was an odd reaction to Sorn, so he raised an eyebrow as if silently questioning the man.

It wasn't until the man noticed the change in Sorn's expression that he finally cleared his throat and tried to turn his head to the side, avoiding direct eye contact with Sorn, his face flushing red. His words came out in a stammer, "Y-You... why aren't you wearing any clothes?"

"Huh?"

"Why aren't you wearing any clothes, I said!"

The man half-shouted, embarrassed, his face growing even redder. Sorn wondered if the man's head was somehow damaged, that couldn't be entirely true, considering he hadn't struck him hard enough to cause brain damage.

"How could I wear clothes if you haven't given them to me? My previous clothes were dirty, and that strange guy—I mean your leader—said someone would bring me clothes. And that," Sorn straightforwardly pointed to the bag the man was holding, "that's for me, right? Hand it over."

As if struck by realization, the man looked at the bag in his hand, lifted it as if testing its weight, let out a long sigh, and began to step inside. His eyes lingered on Sorn's wet hair and the droplets of water slowly dripping from the ends of his hair down to his chest, continuing downward. He mentally slapped himself hard and looked up at the dusty ceiling. It wasn't like him to be so distracted by a skinny man's body.

Sorn waited patiently— it was taking too long for the man to hand over the bag, and he felt the room growing colder, making him shiver slightly. The man remained unmoving like a statue, staring at the ceiling as if something entertaining were there. Sorn clicked his tongue, unhesitatingly grabbing the bag, which jolted the man back to reality.

Emptying the contents of the bag onto the bed, Sorn picked up a white outfit, squinting at it. "It's a bit too big, but the shirt will do," he commented softly. He smelled the shirt, which indeed had the fresh scent of new clothes, and quickly put it on. However, as Sorn tried to remove the towel covering his lower half to put on the underwear, he heard a shout from the man who was still in his room.

"Hey! Are you crazy?"

Turning around, Sorn, holding his boxers, looked affronted and shot a sharp glare. "Crazy? What's crazy about me wanting to put on some underwear?!"

"That... What... Are you not embarrassed?!"

The man's face flushed, and his words stumbled. Seeing his reaction, Sorn scratched his head.

"Hah, I don't know where you're from or what culture you follow, but I'm a man and you're a man! What's embarrassing about wearing clothes in front of another man?"

"I am... That, shit... Sorry."

The man turned away, ruffling his hair and cursing in frustration.

Sorn quickly put on his pants and used the towel to dry his hair. When he said, "I'm done," the man turned back to look directly at Sorn.

"..."

"You're still here. You must have something to say. Hurry up... I want to see your leader after this."

"..... Ugh, sorry about earlier. I was being unreasonable."

Seeing the man's embarrassed expression as he scratched his neck, Sorn let out a weary sigh.

"Do you happen to recognize my face?" Sorn asked, straight to the point.

The man nodded. "I was a bit ... Shocked? Maybe, I'm not gonna lie, you were my celebrity crush when I was a kid... Sorry if that makes you uncomfortable."

So that's why he was so flustered.

"But don't worry, it's just a childhood crush. I really don't have any impure thoughts about you right now!" The man hastened to clarify, hoping to prevent any misunderstandings.

At first, Sorn hadn't considered that the man might be harboring any lustful intentions towards him. However, reflecting on the man's flushed reaction to seeing him in just a towel, Sorn's expression turned doubtful, which the man noticed.

"Believe me! I'm serious, I do like men, but I have my own type."

This explanation made Sorn's eyes twitched in surprise.

"You like men?"

"Yes. Why? Are you homophobic? You find it disgusting ....?"

"But you don't want to, you know, rape men?"

"Rape? What... What are you talking about? I absolutely don't want to do anything disgraceful like that!"

"You don't want to rape me even though you like men....? Looking back, you seem to like my body... hm."

Sorn was genuinely wondering.

The man in uniform looked at Sorn as though he were speaking to an alien who didn't understand human language. He blinked rapidly before finally slapping his own face in exasperation.

"I don't know what's on your mind, but while I admit your body looks pretty and smooth, I prefer men with muscles, especially if their chest muscles are prominent... Ahem, well—" The man cleared his throat. "I do like men, but that doesn't mean I'd rape a man just because I find him attractive... ha, and..."

"That's strange," Sorn murmured subconsciously, rubbing his lips as if deep in thought.

"Strange? Hey, I don't know why our conversation has gone this way—"

"All the men who've said they were interested in me always wanted to rape me, but they failed because I beat them up... so I figured people with a taste for sodomy must have that kind of desire..."

"....."

".... It's my first time seeing an ethical sodomite."

The man in uniform was at a loss for words.

His mouth flung open before he shut it again, as if static noise of error codes were running through his head, like a machine trying to detect something was wrong in the data. He took a step closer, tilting his head as if signaling Sorn to repeat what he had just said, thinking he might have misheard.

Sorn was baffled by the man's dramatic reaction and wondered if he had said something offensive. In his defense, Sorn had merely expressed his own experiences with men who showed sexual interest towards him. Honestly, he was not naive about sexual matters— he had been home schooled and taught biology, so he wasn't entirely clueless. Although his mother held conservative views, teaching him that only heterosexual relationships were natural for procreation and that same-sex relationships went against human nature.

Sorn knew little about people with same-sex attraction and was unaware that his words might be perceived as disrespectful.

Biting his inner cheek, Sorn reluctantly considered asking if something was wrong with his statement. However, as he began to open his mouth, a man's voice suddenly interrupted.

"What an interesting conversation."

Both men, who had been staring at each other in silence, shifted their gaze to the man now leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Ah, Ralf! I was just about to deliver your message to the new member and planned to escort him to the green room. Why are you suddenly here?" The man in uniform hurried toward Ralf, and in Sorn's eyes, he resembled a Cane Corso dog that was only tame with its master.

"I've been waiting so long … and since you hadn't shown up yet, I stopped by here. Who would have thought you'd be discussing something so intriguing?"

"... Haha." The man in uniform gave a dry laugh. "I didn't expect to hear the term 'ethical sodomite' from someone with a face like his."

"Right… Haha. Sorn has a unique way with words."

Sorn didn't like it. He felt as though these two men were making fun of him for something he didn't fully understand.