You Know About the Backrooms, Huh?
“The asshole asking for a set menu, who the hell does he think he is?”
I scrolled through a few of the comments that had already broken into double digits barely three minutes after posting, then closed the gallery. It sucked that this was my last browse, but whatever.
The promised burgers? A burger pledge is only ever fulfilled by not actually handing them out. That’s the rule.
Goodbye, Employment Gallery. See you when I quit.
If I ever get to quit, that is.
The Bureau. An organization responsible for managing, securing, and monitoring nearly every supernatural entity imaginable. Today was my first day as a new recruit at that monstrous place.
When my real life reached the point where I genuinely couldn’t keep living it as a human being, a scout came knocking. They told me things far more dangerous and unpredictable than anything I could imagine would happen. What choice did I have? There was no other path.
“Here it is.”
I handed my powered-off phone to the receptionist.
“Yes~. You may go in.”
Following the guide’s directions, I stepped into the auditorium. Young people in suits were already seated in the chairs. They had to be the other new hires from my intake.
412… 412…
I checked the numbers stuck to the backs of the seats until I found mine and sat down.
A short while later—
“Ahem. Mic test, one two three.”
A booming voice reverberated through the auditorium.
“Greetings, new employees. I am Manager Kwak Choon-bong, and I will be conducting this orientation.”
Clap… clap clap… clapclapclapclapclap!
One person started the applause, and soon every new recruit in the hall was clapping toward the man on stage.
“Thank you. In this session I will only cover the most basic aspects of working here. You will receive more detailed information once you reach your respective departments.”
True to his word, Manager Kwak Choon-bong only went over extremely simple things—the exact same content that had been copy-pasted from the basic work regulations we received when we were accepted.
“After orientation concludes, you will each be issued a terminal used by the Bureau.”
I remembered something about how, when an agent died, all the data on their terminal was uploaded to the Bureau’s cloud. So that was how records written in blood were preserved.
“No need to worry about the service plan. As part of employee welfare, data, calls, and texts are completely unlimited and free.”
For the next hour he reread the preliminary materials and bragged about the Bureau’s benefits. Everyone gathered here was someone who couldn’t go back to their old lives anyway.
“Finally, a tip for all of you. The phone comes with a basic app that lets you access the Bureau’s anonymous bulletin board.”
Huh?
“The censorship standards are quite high, so only casual chatter gets posted, but it should help pass the time when you’re bored.”
Sounded like some kind of everyday community app. Still, it was wild how casually he threw around the word “censorship.”
“And one last thing.”
The smile that had been on Manager Kwak Choon-bong’s face vanished. His voice grew deadly serious.
“At the Bureau, you never know when you might lose your life. Every single entity is dangerous and unpredictable. Death arrives without warning.”
The heavy subject and grave tone pulled every eye in the room to him. He swept his gaze across the auditorium before continuing.
“That said, each and every task we perform saves countless lives and becomes a vital piece in bringing peace to our nation—and eventually the world. You may take pride in that.”
He put noticeable weight behind the word pride.
“That concludes my explanation. As you leave the auditorium, collect your terminals and proceed to your assigned departments. Let’s meet again while we’re still alive.”
His half-joking farewell was met with another round of applause that filled the hall. Following the staff’s guidance, the new recruits began exiting in order, starting from seat number one.
The terminal I received looked like one of those free phones. Apparently you could upgrade to a better model as your rank increased. As long as it performed well, I was happy. I slipped it into my pocket and headed for my designated department.
“Hello, I’m Park Seong-bin. I’ll be starting work today.”
“Let’s see… you’re the last new recruit of this batch. Go sit over there.”
The female employee pointed to a spot where roughly ten people around my age were already seated. Once I sat down, she began her explanation.
“Um… you’ll begin working immediately today. We’ll issue you daily necessities, so take them and head straight to the field.”
An absurdly brief explanation.
“I have a question!”
“Go ahead.”
A woman who seemed to share my exact thoughts raised her hand.
“Is that seriously all the explanation we get?”
“Yes.”
“Like… what the department does, what kind of work we’ll be doing…”
“Your department is the Field Response Team. As for what you’ll actually be doing, I’ll explain after this job—if you’re still alive.”
The casual way she mentioned life and death instantly froze the atmosphere.
“Explaining everything in detail beforehand is pointless. We decided it’s better to wait until after your second assignment.”
“But—!”
“If you came in through the Human Rights Waiver Admission, you should have been prepared for this much.”
The faint sparks of rebellion on my fellow recruits’ faces died the moment he said those words.
“If you understand, come collect your bags. This batch actually got off easy.”
One by one we received our bags. They were surprisingly sturdy.
“Everyone have theirs? I’ll explain the contents later while we work, so follow me.”
The employee kept mechanically reciting the prepared lines with zero enthusiasm.
What the hell are we even doing on the first day? Safe entity management and report writing like on the wiki? Detailed new-hire training? Memorizing entity characteristics?
All sorts of thoughts spun through my head as I followed the employee down the corridor.
After passing through several hallways, we arrived at a facility packed with mysterious mechanical devices. Countless wires and machines converged on one massive doorway. Despite its imposing appearance, the space behind the doorway was just the facility wall.
Only then did it truly sink in that I had joined the Bureau. At the same time, one clear thought rose in my mind.
Fuck… no matter how I look at it, this isn’t a tutorial.
The employee began speaking as if she had read my mind.
“From this point on, you will pass through this gate. Your task is to survive inside for one week.”
A very simple explanation, followed by dead silence.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“What exactly is inside, and the explanation about the bag you mentioned earlier…”
“Now that I think about it, you can just check the bag yourselves. Besides, I don’t know what’s inside either.”
The employee turned her head and stared indifferently at the gate.
“That’s the whole point. Finding out what’s in there is your job.”
The faces of the recruits who had come with me darkened instantly. Noticing their reaction, she delivered one last cold remark.
“Like I said before, if you entered through the Human Rights Waiver Admission and thought everything would be handed to you on a silver platter, you should abandon that idea right now.”
She walked over to the device connected to the gate and began typing on the keyboard.
Ziiiing.
The empty space within the doorway instantly filled with swirling purple. No matter how closely I stared, all I could see was the rippling violet void. Nothing else was visible.
“As I mentioned earlier, this batch has it relatively easy.”
The employee kept typing as she spoke.
“The location this gate connects to is within transmission range, so after one week you will be forcibly repatriated.”
Wow, you really nailed the important part.
In other words, we had no idea what was on the other side. But the subtext was clear: Since guaranteed escape is possible, this is considered easy.
What kind of insane difficulty scaling was this?
“If you’re lucky and there happens to be an exit on site, you might be able to leave before the full week is up.”
Schrödinger’s exit, huh?
“That said, I wouldn’t do it if I were you. Here’s a pro tip: don’t go into any suspicious places. Just stay put and complete the full time.”
The place we’re about to enter is already suspicious as hell.
Her indifferent attitude—after all, this wasn’t her problem—pissed me off a little, but there was nothing I could do. That’s what the Human Rights Waiver Admission meant.
“Enter one at a time.”
Following her instructions, the recruits stepped into the gate one by one. The moment they touched the purple light, they vanished as if they had never existed.
Once everyone else had gone through, it was my turn. Before stepping in, I glanced back at the employee. She had short brown hair and a slightly ditzy-looking face. If the situation had been different, I might have wanted to get to know her.
But I wasn’t lonely enough to feel attraction toward someone who looked at me like I wasn’t even a person.
“Are you not going in?”
“Huh? No, I am! I’m going, I’m going.”
Leaving the employee—who was now tilting her head at me—behind, I stepped into the rippling purple space.
My vision flickered for a brief moment.
What I saw was a space completely filled with faded yellow. Yellow walls, yellow floor, walls jutting out at irregular intervals. Instead of silence, the buzzing of old fluorescent lights filled my ears. A musty, damp smell rose from the floor.
“No, fuck. The Backrooms right from the start?”
It was an incredibly famous location—so famous you didn’t even need to work at the Bureau to know about it. A liminal space so well-known it had become the sacrificial lamb for every middle-schooler’s edgy lore.
On my very first day of employment, I had been dropped into an endless maze. I needed to either find an exit or survive for a full week. Since the Backrooms had no exit, the first option was off the table. Unless “escaping” meant being teleported into the real-world sky only to fall to your death.
I stopped thinking about it and walked over to the nearest wall. Assessing the situation came first. I had plenty of time.
I needed to quickly determine whether this was the Backrooms I knew or if some other trick was involved. Otherwise I might not even last today, let alone a week.
“110V…”
The outlet near the bottom of the wall proudly displayed slim slots instead of round holes, as if advertising that it was foreign-made. So charging was completely out of the question?
“Right. The bag. Let’s check the bag first.”
The employee had said she would explain the contents on site but then completely skipped it. Depending on what was inside, my survival odds would be decided.
I sat down against the wall and emptied the bag. A ridiculous amount of items spilled out.
“…Was the bag itself also special-made?”
What poured out was far more than the bag’s physical size should have allowed. Plenty of drinking water and food, a sleeping bag, a flashlight, spare clothes, small packets of medicine… and a 110V converter plug along with a phone charger.
“…From now on, I will attempt to live in the Backrooms for one week.”
Backrooms challenge, start.