Prologue

One hot summer. Taking advantage of a long-awaited vacation, I made up my mind and set out on a cross-country trip from the West to the East. The problem was, not long after I started, the car broke down. Ugh... I should have replaced this piece of junk a long time ago.

The old car, whose air conditioning had already given up the ghost, was spewing out the desert heat, and the ignition was rattling precariously as if it would stall at any moment. Not wanting to die isolated in the middle of a remote wasteland, I prayed and gripped the steering wheel, driving recklessly along the road for a long time. . . .

After driving like that for about two hours, a faint town began to appear over the horizon. As I approached the entrance of the town, a retro-style gas station and repair shop with old neon signs and worn-out gas pumps came into view. The sign that read Dusty Gas Station had peeling paint in places, but in the middle of the desolate desert, that place alone felt strangely alive.

As soon as I barely managed to park the car in front of the station, I opened the door of the damn junk heap and stepped out. The hot air hit my face. Having endured hours inside a car without working AC, my whole body was drenched in sweat. It was a miracle I hadn't roasted to death.

Just then, a man walked out leisurely from the back of the repair shop. Bright blonde hair that looked sun-bleached. He was wearing a white tank top and jeans, with large sunglasses perched on top of his head.

The man scanned the broken car once, then tilted the corners of his mouth up.

"Broken? ...Ah, the car, I mean. Though looking at your face, it seems like the person's broken too."