Chapter 51: If I Were Born Again (1)

“Do you have anything you want to eat?”  

After a good laugh, the atmosphere had softened considerably, so I asked that question.  

Outside, it was completely dark now that the sun had set. However, it wasn’t too late to have dinner yet.  

There were still many things I wanted to ask….how they had ended up here, and by what means they had managed to arrive.  

Of course, recalling the conversation I had earlier with the goddess, it was clear she must have sent them.

Probably through the method she originally intended to use to send me. She had a purpose in doing so, but… when I asked her for details, she skillfully changed the subject.  

If even the goddess deflected the question, it likely meant it wasn’t something I should know just yet.  

…Well, they would be staying here for a while anyway, so there was no need to pressure them for answers right away.  

“I’m fine with anything. Considering I’m just freeloading here, I’ll eat whatever you serve without complaint,” said Kalia.  

“Me too,” Dana chimed in. “It’s only natural since I’m an uninvited guest.”  

“I feel the same,” another voice added. “This is a different civilization, so the food must be different too. I wouldn’t dream of making unreasonable demands.”  

Still, I doubted the differences would be that dramatic… Though, admittedly, the flavors here were generally intense.

Korean cuisine was often spicier than typical Western food, not to mention Earth’s overall tendency to use abundant seasonings like salt and pepper.  

Even so, I didn’t think it would be so salty as to be inedible.  

“True,” Arna remarked, “different civilizations mean different foods. And this place looks so unlike anything familiar…”  

She seemed a bit uneasy as she said this.  

Elves had particularly sharp senses of smell, which often interfered with eating. Most elves were sensitive to the smell of meat or fish, although they didn’t completely avoid consuming protein.

Their diet typically consisted of small amounts of meat paired with large quantities of vegetables.  

But “fresh vegetables” were surprisingly hard to come by. While forests were full of plants, very few were both edible and flavorful.

Most wild plants weren’t palatable, and eating them without harm was considered lucky.  

Uncultivated fruits from the wild were often tiny, sour, and lacked nutritional value. They weren’t sufficient to feed soldiers who had expended their energy.  

So, just as we often ate preserved meats, Arna frequently relied on pickled vegetables and fruits.

She understood that in war, asking for fresh vegetables was far harder than requesting quality meat, and while she grimaced at the thought, she ate stoically nonetheless.  

Back then, she accepted it as “inevitable,” but here, in the middle of what appeared to be a thriving city, the idea of not finding edible food felt like torture—little more than false hope.  

“Ah, you don’t have to worry,” I told Arna, who still looked concerned.  

“There are plenty of places that sell salads.”  

At my words, Arna visibly relaxed.  

“In that case, I’ll leave it to you.”  

“Alright, got it.”  

I nodded and took out the smartphone from my pocket.  

*

As expected, while I was ordering food on my smartphone, Dana peered over my shoulder with a curious expression, as if fascinated by the glowing screen.

In her world, they had photographs.

They had things resembling phones, refrigerators, fans, and air conditioners.

However, all of those were prohibitively expensive due to the lack of mass production, making them inaccessible to the average commoner.

Furthermore, everything in her world was powered by magic, and all magical items were crafted by hand by mages.  

But what seemed to amaze Dana wasn’t the price or rarity of these devices—it was that they worked without magic.  

Her world didn’t have anything like a smartphone. While they had tools that performed single functions, there was no equivalent to the multi-functional computers of this world.  

“Do you think I could have one of those?” she asked eagerly.  

“Getting one isn’t the problem… oh, wait.”  

As I scrolled through the menu, trying to figure out what they might like, a previously overlooked issue suddenly struck me.  

“Why? Is it really expensive? Too costly for me to have one?” Dana asked, her tone tinged with disappointment.  

“No, it’s not that.”  

Of course, the high-end models could be pricey, but there were plenty of affordable options too. Even the most expensive one wasn’t something I couldn’t afford.  

The issue was far more fundamental than cost.  

“…To use this properly, you need an identity in this world.”  

“Oh.”  

Dana nodded, quickly understanding the crux of the issue.  

“If that’s the reason, it makes sense. From what you’ve told me about this world’s identity verification system, it seems almost flawless.”  

Here, everything was digitized, stored on computers, and accessible in real-time.

It wasn’t something you could simply ask to be registered into. Foreigners had to be officially recorded upon entering the country, with their entry and exit tracked.

If someone entered without being recorded, they were considered an illegal entrant and, by extension, an undocumented resident. Overstaying even a single day without a proper visa would label someone as an illegal immigrant.  

In Dana’s world, the process was much simpler.

If someone could prove they were a person, they would be granted temporary status, and after further evaluation, they could be recognized as a commoner unless disqualified.

After all, there was only one human kingdom in their region, so the rules were far more lenient.  

“For now, it shouldn’t be a big problem just moving around.”  

As long as they didn’t run into a situation where an identity check was required, that is.  

I’d never experienced random ID checks myself, but I knew things might be different for foreigners. I’d heard countless warnings never to lose your passport while traveling abroad.  

“Foreigners, huh? That’s a strange concept to me,” Dana remarked.  

In her world, “foreigners” usually referred to elves, who were rarely seen, or the occasional sailors from the dangerous eastern seas.

While foreign residents could be found in port cities, they were almost nonexistent in the royal capital, let alone in distant noble territories.  

Leaving her homeland entirely was even rarer, so it made sense that the idea of being a foreigner felt foreign to her.  

“Did the goddess give you anything? When I came here, I received a few things to prove my identity,” I asked.  

The four of them exchanged glances before shaking their heads.  

“…Come to think of it, we didn’t even have time to pack anything before coming here,” Kalia noted.  

Dana shrugged nonchalantly at that.  

“It just means the goddess was in a hurry. She said that the only time she could gather that much divine power was then. She mentioned she could replenish her strength later, but…”  

“Gather divine power?” I asked, curious.  

Fia smiled and explained, “We gathered people to pray to the Hero. To send thanks and blessings to you. In the royal capital and even in the noble territories across the kingdom, people came together at the same time to pray to the goddess, so she could use that collective power to send us here.”

“…….”

“Oh… that’s quite an incredible story.”  

I nodded, even though I felt the scale of it all was overwhelming. I decided I’d listen to the full details of that incident later.  

For now, there was a more pressing matter at hand.  

Although it was unlikely, if they somehow got involved with the police, things would become complicated in many ways.

Forget about the fact they were undocumented immigrants—their ‘original nationality’ was entirely unknown.  

“Hmm… the only thing I brought was this notebook…”  

Dana held up a worn notebook that she had been holding the whole time. It was the same notebook I had used to explain the language and civilization of this world to her.  

Did she bring it along just in case she needed it here?  

As I thought about that, something fell from the notebook with a light thud.  

It was a small piece of paper, about the size of a business card.  

Dana picked it up again, tilting her head in confusion.  

“……?”  

“What is it?”  

“This isn’t something I put in here.”  

Saying that, Dana handed the piece of paper to me.  

“I think this is something you should see.”  

“Me?”  

I took the paper, a little puzzled, and looked at it.  

Written on it was an address.  

It was in Korean, printed as if typed on a typewriter.  

And the address was for a church.