Summary
The war’s curse has lifted after three years, and life in this quiet village finally feels peaceful—until a rugged stranger bursts into our restaurant. Claiming he owes a debt to my late father from the war, he can’t even say what it is. When I refuse his vague offer of money, insisting on repayment through work instead, he replies with a sly grin, “With my body, or someone else’s?” Unimpressed, I hand him a knife. “Just go chop the onions.”