Address (1)
The chime that shattered the silence was oddly cheerful. It almost sounded like the door of a convenience store sliding open. Of course, this place was far from any convenience store.
[Waiting number 666. Please come to the counter.]
[Waiting number 667. Please come to the counter.]
[Waiting number 668. Please come to the counter.]
[Waiting number 669. Please come to the counter.]
[Waiting number 670. Please come to the counter.]
As five chimes rang out in quick succession, Lee Kanghyeok and Yoo Se-rin's gazes simultaneously turned to Han Yujin, as if asking what she planned to do.
Han Yujin, with the same brazen face she'd used to toy with the security guard moments ago, casually slung the money bag over her shoulder.
"Let's go. Time to ship this package."
Thud. Without hesitation, Han Yujin headed toward the counter labeled [Shipping].
And trailing panting behind her at some point was the Cerberus—no, Badukki.
Yoo Se-rin's eyes trembled slightly as she watched. Han Yujin was next, which meant she was right after.
...Is that Cerberus really safe?
But she couldn't ignore the called counter. Why did it have to be right after Han Yujin?!
With a woeful expression, Yoo Se-rin started walking, followed by the middle-aged woman and Kruru.
Lee Kanghyeok moved last. He subtly furrowed his scarred face, staring at the small girl's back.
......What the hell is she?
The scene from moments ago had been shocking.
Instant-death trap. Even Unique Company's manual had no answer beyond "breakthrough via sacrifice."
Yet that civilian girl... tamed the anomaly with a single slice of pizza and turned it into "cargo."
Spotting the rulebook's gaps and exploiting them in reverse.
Honestly, who would think to use an anomaly as cargo? Things humans had to flee from on sight!
It was common sense. But the horror's rulebook also suggested it: stay quiet in the waiting area. Meaning other anomalies had to stay quiet here too. Zero risk.
This kid really is...
She was worlds apart from Jeong Gongbeop. Twisting common sense, deceiving the system— the polar opposite of the path Lee Kanghyeok had honed his whole life.
But he had to acknowledge the results. That girl grasped the essence of this rule-fuck game more precisely than any elite in Unique Company, himself included.
His massive frame slowly followed the girl.
The [Shipping] counter was eerily ordinary. Like a normal bank teller window. Except for the "employee" sitting beyond it.
The employee wore a red paper hat pulled low, mechanically processing documents. Though those documents writhed like living parchment, and the pen was its own long, sharp claw.
As Han Yujin stood at the counter, the employee asked without looking up.
"Give me the form you provide first."
Han Yujin jerked her chin. There wasn't a speck of fear toward the anomaly in her tone. Only the brazen confidence unique to a seasoned troll forged in ten years of gallery shitposting.
The employee's claw paused.
The employee seemed to ponder, then pulled a worn, thick sheet from under the counter and slid it over.
『Cargo Shipping Manifest』
It was practically the rulebook of this logistics center itself.
The manifest had four blanks.
Item Name: [ ]
Destination Address: [ ]
Sender: [ ]
Recipient: [ ]
"Heh. Simple enough."
Yoo Se-rin reached for the manifest in wonder, pulling a pen from somewhere as if ready to fill it out on the spot.
—Smack!
"Ow!"
Han Yujin smacked the back of Yoo Se-rin's hand. A sharp sting unbelievable from such a slender girl's wrist.
Yoo Se-rin protested with teary eyes.
"Why'd you hit me!"
"Again, no thinking! Did you think before acting just now?"
Yoo Se-rin felt wronged! What was there to think about receiving a manifest!
"...A-And when did I ever act without thinking..."
Thinking about it, that was the most unjust part!
Yoo Se-rin trailed off. Han Yujin's glare seemed to say 'keep barking.'
She meekly withdrew her hand like a scolded puppy.
Meanwhile, Lee Kanghyeok, silently watching, nodded approvingly. Violent, but with clear intent.
'Don't touch recklessly.'
Horror items, especially core concept ones, could trigger irreversibly from mere contact. This reception horror's core was undoubtedly that manifest.
...Veteran-level judgment.
Lee Kanghyeok unconsciously touched his scarred cheek. Han Yujin. The more he saw, the more he wanted her. Worth considering recruitment for Team 3.
He spoke up.
"So, why stop her? You see a problem with the manifest?"
"Yeah."
Han Yujin's eyes gleamed.
"In these fuck-ass games, order is everything. Especially fill-in-the-blank ones."
She pointed to the four fields.
"Item name, address, sender, recipient. That's the order now. But it's wrong. Why?"
No one answered.
Han Yujin tsked like 'you don't even know this?'
"Item name goes last. Why?"
A smug grin curled her lips.
"'Cause we gotta become the cargo. This shitty horror treats us like objects, right? Write your name in [Item Name], and boom—you're cargo. Huh, but no destination? Customer, why'd you half-fill the form? 'Cause you locked us in the box! But I'm in the box, anomalies can't hear. What happens? Straight to the press machine for disposal—game over!"
Her words poured out in a breathless rush. But the scenario was flawlessly logical.
Everyone's faces paled.
Yoo Se-rin asked in a trembling voice.
"Th-Then... how...?"
Instead of answering, Han Yujin looked at the reception anomaly.
"Hey."
"Rewrite this. I don't like the manifest."
Han Yujin's specialty—being a Karen to reception anomalies—activated again!
The result: Yoo Se-rin stared in awe at the manifest in her hand. Item name now at the very end.
"...Wow, she's really something."
She vowed silently: If she ever got trapped in a horror and turned into an anomaly, never become a reception one.
The employee tapped the first blank on the manifest with its claw. Simultaneously, the wall beside the counter split open with a massive rumble, revealing a new passage.
Beyond lay pitch-black darkness. And in that darkness, tens of millions—no, hundreds of millions—of words floated in the air and on the walls.
"What the..."
Yoo Se-rin muttered blankly.
With the explanation, the door slammed shut—boom.
Lee Kanghyeok took the lead. Flicking on his lantern revealed the passage's truth.
An endless vast space. Walls coated in unknown red sticky fluid, crawling with countless "letters." Mostly incomprehensible symbols like [●◆■].
"Uweeeek!"
Amid the nauseating letter frenzy, barely readable ones drifted.
"Th-This is..."
The middle-aged woman stifled a scream.
The letters were dying words left by countless victims who'd passed through. They crawled like living worms, merging and scattering endlessly.
"Ah. So that's it."
Lee Kanghyeok, frowning as he scanned around, spoke.
"Some horrors have places like this. Where anomalies or humans conceptualize into letters themselves. Heard stories, but it exists."
In other words, these crawling, floating letters had once been humans or anomalies.
Yoo Se-rin and the middle-aged woman clutched their heads, collapsing.
"Uweeeek!"
"S-So cruel..."
Han Yujin narrowed her eyes, surveying. Rules? None here?
Damn.
Too much data. Human eyes and brains couldn't process this random deluge.
Time passed. The wall letters grew faster, more grotesque.
The letters began polluting their minds. Total wipeout at this rate.
Han Yujin gritted her teeth. Might have to take damage.
She gripped the money bag tight. Smash something...
Then.
"Over there..."
A small voice from behind. Kruru, who'd been hiding clutching Han Yujin's work uniform hem.
"Why can't everyone read those, nyang?"
Kruru tilted her head, reading some letters aloud, clear as day.