Yang Ganghwan took off the newspaper covering him.

“Phew, doesn’t look like my face was paralyzed, at least.”

There were a bunch of homeless people sitting around the bus terminal. After all, it was winter, and the terminal was warm. Ganghwan had been living here for around two weeks now.

“Mr. Yang.”

The person who walked up to him with a bottle of soju was Mr. Kim. The man who was the leader of the homeless here. He was the one who decides who sleeps where.

“Drinking, so early in the morning?”

“I’m drinking because it’s the morning. Looks like you’re still doing well, that’s good. Here, have a shot. It’ll warm you up.”

November. It was getting a bit too cold to keep warm with just a newspaper. The walls of the bus terminal stopped wind from getting in, but the temperature was still cold enough to paralyze a man. Paralysis, to a homeless person, was a worse outcome than death.

Ganghwan accepted the shot of soju. He felt his stomach warm up a bit.

“Stretch a bit. Your bones are going to rot away if you just curl up like that.”

Ganghwan nodded, and started stretching. His stiffened muscles were screaming at him. That was a good sign, at least he could still feel pain. According to Mr. Kim, things were really bad for you if you woke up feeling good. Because you were too numb to feel anything wrong with your body.

“Now now! Stand up! We need to leave this place squeaky clean!”

Mr. Kim started waking up all the homeless people. Each one of them started cleaning up after their...