Chapter 613
Chapter 613
A once-in-a-lifetime experience: having to use rational persuasion while being mistaken for a ghost.
[Park Moon-dae: Supervisor, it’s me, Assistant Manager Park Moon-dae...]
[Cha Yu-jin: (It’s a fake! It’s a ghost!)]
[Bae Se-jin: (Preaching that they shouldn't even make eye contact)]
[Park Moon-dae: (...)]
[Park Moon-dae: (Dead eyes)]
I could practically see those captions and reactions scrolling by.
I stared with cold, deadpan eyes, imagining the guys on the other side of the iron door.
I was back in the basement storage room.
I had chased the guys who fled from the pantry all the way to the emergency staircase. I didn't know for sure, but I bet both sides felt like their hearts were about to burst.
And the fact that I was actually doing this made me feel even more dead inside.
‘But why am I acting like a dork here instead of just opening the door and catching them?’
It was all because of this bizarre company’s non-disclosure agreement.
Remember how Kim Rae-bin mentioned something about information restrictions for regular employees earlier? This was an extension of that.
—I was told that when contacting other executives or employees who are not regular employees, mutual consent must be obtained!
Isn't this just discrimination against contract workers?
The setting claimed it was for confidentiality, but that was obviously bullshit. It was clearly a setup designed to create this exact picture of mutual misunderstanding.
Well, I suppose it would be funny...
‘Keun Se-jin used his head well.’
I realized that the way he had quietly spoken to me from behind wasn't just to scare me, but to make me turn around of my own volition.
So, I decided to try a similar approach with a bit of reverse psychology.
"Supervisor."
I looked at the rusted fire door and spoke quietly toward the darkness beyond.
I made sure to enunciate clearly.
"Look... behind you."
[...!]
Creeeeak.
However, I quickly pushed the iron door open before they could actually turn around.
Look, I gave them fair warning. I told them to look behind them, not at me.
‘Then I’ve followed the rules.’
Now I just had to step out, let them see I was perfectly fine, and have a rational conversation...
"Aaaaack!"
"Noooooo!"
The members screamed and bolted straight down the dark hallway.
"..."
Seriously?
"Hey!"
I called out as I chased them, but they gritted their teeth and refused to look back.
‘Are they really that scared?’
It was a bit awkward, but for some reason, it didn't feel too bad.
Ah, one of them did steal a glance back.
It was one of the two who hadn't screamed and remained calm: Seon A-hyun.
Oh.
I waved my hand.
But Seon A-hyun’s face turned even paler, and with a look of grim determination, he picked up his pace.
"..."
You... you aren't even afraid of ghosts.
I briefly wondered if the production crew had put makeup on my face without telling me.
‘...Maybe I should go wait on the 4th floor elevator next time.’
But my actions only sent them into a further state of panic.
"The music box over there...!"
"Aaaack!"
...In the end, the guys who were being (voluntarily) chased by the employees who had disappeared ended up stepping on all sorts of traps and falling into even more dire crises (voluntarily).
Is this what they call a comedy from afar but a tragedy up close?
"...I'm pressing 'Delivery'."
"Aaaah, seriously!"
‘It’s desperate for them, though.’
That was the thing.
By this point, every time someone met the Music Box Monster and got "Delivered," they couldn't accept reality and looked like they wanted to die of embarrassment.
"Gosh... please edit this out."
"Pwahahaha!"
I was glad I had been "Delivered" voluntarily.
This continued until every member had been "Delivered," leaving only the manager, Bae Se-jin, alone...
"..."
The 7th-floor office where we started.
Like the protagonist of a zombie movie who was the sole survivor, Bae Se-jin gallantly pressed the "Delivery" button at a dead end.
And so, the final survivor, who had delivered even himself with such solemn eyes...
"Bwahahaha! Ahaha!"
"..."
[Regular Employee Appointment]
Bae Se-jin (A) 14:35:26
- Congratulations!
He received a grand celebration.
Bae Se-jin, whose lips trembled as he looked at the holographic board displaying his name, briefly denied reality as he watched the others clapping.
But soon, his face began to turn a mix of red and blue.
"Wait a minute, then you guys!!"
"We did our best to persuade you."
"..."
I guess he couldn't bring himself to deny it.
His mouth hung open for a moment before he finally muttered in a dejected tone.
"It would have been better to disappear early on."
"Right?"
Judging by how Kim Rae-bin was the first to be eliminated, it seemed the production crew had been considerate enough to eliminate the more fearful members first.
‘Of course, I’m the exception since I wrote my own name.’
As I nodded, Keun Se-jin poked my side and chuckled.
"Honestly~ I think Assistant Manager Moon-dae enjoyed himself a bit."
"I did not."
"You thought it was fun seeing people get scared of you! You're always the one getting surprised, so you must've thought, 'What a treat!'"
"I did not."
It was a slanderous accusation.
Anyway, everything proceeded swiftly and smoothly after that.
Once we were all together, everyone’s courage seemed to return, and their spirits soared.
‘Is this the effect of becoming a regular employee?’
Even when they saw the bizarre, giant altar attached to the basement storage wall, they only made a fuss a few times before nodding.
"So we just have to find all these music boxes and put them all up here, right?"
"Okay."
"There's only one left. It's easy!"
After all of us ran away screaming from the last remaining monster and "Delivered" it, we placed the final music box on the avant-garde altar.
Eight in total.
"An octagon. Hmm... so we place one on each point of the octagon."
"It looks unique."
"Maybe... it was inspired by a historical artifact?"
There was even a member who offered such an opinion after observing it closely.
"Looking at it like this, don't the music boxes we delivered kind of resemble our members... I mean, the employees?"
"Haha. Do they?"
He’s looking for a merchandise angle.
In any case, the altar that had consumed the eight music boxes caused the entire wall to open...
"Wow."
"Whoa...!"
It led to a new, modern space.
[Laboratory]
A classic mystery trope: a bizarre biological laboratory.
"Is it like human experimentation?"
"Ugh, creepy."
Inside, giant experimental containers filled with unknown liquids and mannequin parts or torsos were displayed everywhere.
It was a grand sight, but one that made me certain we’d have to set the age rating to at least 15+ when uploading to WeTube.
"Alright, let's find our way home."
We retraced the events, unraveling the story which had now shifted from horror to a thrilling adventure.
"So, in this corporation..."
"In our company!"
"Y-yeah, our company... Anyway, it seems they manage and research these music box ghosts... or whatever they are here."
"We've joined a company that looks like it would pay a lot of hazard pay."
Looking at the research records in the censored documents scattered about, it seemed they had even conducted AI research using those music box monsters.
‘They really squeezed every bit of use out of this setting.’
And in the midst of this, we discovered a key element.
"Look at this!"
[For Temporary Employees / Summer Special Duty Guidelines]
We had found the PC containing the file for the bizarre guidelines we had received at the beginning.
"Ooh."
"So they made it here...!"
The members marveled at how eerie it was, peering at the PC screen and sharing their thoughts and deductions.
Then, this topic came up.
The item with a noticeably different tone of voice.
"But why did it say not to go to the stairs? If we had gone to the stairs, we would have noticed right away."
The point was that if they had gone to the stairs, seen the space inside, and met a "regular employee," wouldn't it have been easier to persuade them immediately?
From an adult's perspective, the reason would be, "Guys, if you do that, the filming ends too early and it's boring," but...
‘There’s probably a reason that fits the narrative.’
I thought about it for a moment and added, "Maybe it wasn't there originally, and someone added it in a hurry."
"Oh?"
I pointed to the sentence with my finger.
"This is the only one without a period."
"Ah!"
"Someone just hit enter and typed it in right before printing."
"Ooh."
"Ah. You're right. Assistant Manager Moon-dae~ the cursor was right here too."
"Since the numbers are automatically generated, it looks like it was edited immediately."
Finding it quite persuasive, everyone chuckled, saying, "So it wasn't originally an item."
"To stop us from becoming regular employees?"
"How mean."
"Is it a rival?"
Tossing out various lighthearted guesses, the guys continued forward.
And so, at the end of the lab.
The members solved the final puzzle.
"Oh. Good."
In the atmosphere of a full-fledged escape room ending, everyone had a hunch.
The vibe suggested we were about to escape and see the ending.
"It's... done!"
In front of a giant security door.
TeSTAR, having brilliantly solved the riddle of swiping ID cards in order of rank by guessing it would be "sorted by seniority based on who became a regular employee first," stepped joyfully into the opening door.
Thick dry ice, like a stage effect, was pouring out from inside.
"Oh, smoke."
"Did we succeed in escaping—no, leaving work...?"
It was then.
"Pardon? What do you mean, leaving work?"
"...?"
A serious voice, as usual, was heard.
"Regular employees do not leave work!"
I turned my head.
The words came from someone who hadn't entered the door yet.
Kim Rae-bin.
"I would appreciate it if you would pay attention to that."
Standing in the lab, Kim Rae-bin pointed behind him.
Behind him, the same hologram we had seen in the employee lounge was floating.
[Regular Employee Appointment]
Park Moon-dae (A) 12:33:52
- Congratulations!
The 'A' attached after the name there...
"A stands for AI."
"..."
What?
"Because all regular facility employees are AIs."
Delivery.
The temporary employees hadn't been promoted to regular employees through "Delivery."
...AIs had been mass-produced, modeled after the employees "requisitioned for delivery."
Regular employees who could perfectly maintain non-disclosure agreements.
...AIs so high-performance that they wouldn't even realize they were AIs.
"Then, I look forward to your continued delivery and management."
As he watched the members being trapped in storage containers and submerged in smoke, Intern Kim Rae-bin bowed his head and walked out through a side door.
...Intern.
A position held during a probationary period before becoming a regular employee.
"I will leave work after completing my report."
He was the only one who was a real intern at KIS headquarters.
*
"That was quite the twist."
Yeah. Because no one had been notified up to that point.
I looked at Ryu Cheong-woo, who was reminiscing about that time with a slightly amused expression.
‘Everyone was so shocked their eyes nearly popped out.’
I doubted the viewers would be any different.
The reaction to the early episodes released this time was decent, and since I had been involved in the editing several times, the final episode would likely turn out great as well.
I could already see the reactions of people screaming at the twist.
It was an unexpected choice of character, so it would definitely become a hot topic, just as we had cried out in shock.
I was already looking forward to it.
‘Not that it’s everything, though.’
I tapped my chin.
In fact, as more episodes aired, these kinds of reactions were bound to surface.
These reactions were inevitable.
If we were targeting the domestic market, we should have made a more mainstream choice. At the very least, we should have secured a TV channel or collaborated with a famous producer.
If we were targeting overseas, we should have appeared on US or UK programs and promoted aggressively like a rising tide.
No, in the first place, for all the results to be reflected on Billboard, we should have made a comeback around Friday like VTIC.
‘I know all of that.’
But we didn't.
‘Because there’s another plan.’
This was like a game of Go or chess. From now on, I just had to keep making moves one by one, steadily, without being swayed by momentary reactions.
Until the build-up reached its peak and exploded.
‘Right.’
But, before that...
"..."
"...Hyung?"
I silently stared at Ryu Cheong-woo, who was looking at me with questioning eyes. Until he asked again.
"..."
"What's wrong?"
Actually, I had thought about it a lot.
Whether or not to bring this up.
"Ryu Cheong-woo."
I knew his attitude had been a bit strange lately.
It wasn't that he was being uncooperative or acting out in any weird way.
‘He still does his job well.’
But when he wasn't working.
Ryu Cheong-woo was often subdued, showing slow reactions or making peculiar remarks more frequently.
But I had let it slide for the time being.
‘Because there were no clues.’
Most of the problems that could be solved had been resolved by the time we got here, so I had decided to wait and see.
And... finally, the result.
I had gained an epiphany from a different perspective.
Not about Ryu Cheong-woo, but about myself.
—Is it even possible for me not to know the clues?
Let's be honest.
I'm... a guy who's obsessed with controlling the situation.
Even if I've fixed it a bit, I'm the type of person who's only satisfied when I've gathered all the information I can possibly grasp in advance about a situation I'm handling.
And yet, Park Moon-dae can't find a single hint despite a group member's attitude being strange?
Whether it's family, the company, public opinion, or even a scheduling issue, I'm definitely someone who can squeeze out plausible hints.
No, I'm someone who can do that.
‘But if I can't.’
That means it's a more personal problem.
Something unrelated to the surrounding environment.
A more intimate, personal matter.
Then... only one thing remains.
"...Is there something wrong with your body?"
Health.
"..."
I continued speaking in front of the silent Ryu Cheong-woo.
The pre-release video of the TeSTAR Office self-produced content we just watched.
There was something I realized for sure while watching that screen.
A tendency he had been showing recently.
"You seemed to be sparing your movements."
Ryu Cheong-woo is normally the type to step forward whenever there's a need to use his body. He’s a former national athlete, and he’s naturally adventurous in that regard.
But in this variety show.
Whenever a task required momentary grip strength, instead of reflexively jumping in, Ryu Cheong-woo would think and judge first.
And then he would instruct someone else to move.
Specifically... only when a certain body part had to be used.
"Your left arm."
"..."
"You... seemed to be avoiding using your arm strength."
He wouldn't be able to deny it.
Because.
"It's not just once or twice."
Lately... has he ever performed such a feat of strength?
He didn't even do it during the agency's MT variety show.
‘Even when we faced off in hide-and-seek, he aimed for psychological blind spots.’
Even in the random play dance, he maintained a strangely conservative attitude. He switched to being eliminated quickly and giving advice or getting involved in song selection.
It's not like he's a bad dancer.
"...I became certain of it through this monitoring."
But here's the thing.
During choreography practice or in daily life, Ryu Cheong-woo's arm range of motion is perfectly fine. He hasn't complained of any pain that others would notice.
And yet, he's subconsciously avoiding using it.
Why?
"Why are you uncomfortable using your left arm?"
I finally asked that question.
Hoping for some degree of rebuttal, or perhaps an emotional reaction.
And Ryu Cheong-woo...
"..."
He didn't answer.
The playfulness and natural softness he had shown while reminiscing about the recent filming were gone from his face.
However, he didn't stiffen up or get angry either.
With an inscrutable face that made it impossible to tell if he was smiling or not, he just looked elsewhere for a moment, then stood up and moved.
Toward the hallway.
He passed by me just like that and went into his room.
Click.
The sound of the door closing softly followed.
"..."
It was a refusal to talk.
And the next day.
"Everyone's finished eating, right?"
He naturally took care of the members, checked the schedule, and performed his normal duties.
But he didn't try to have a private conversation with me.
He simply... didn't respond at all.
‘What... is this?’
But I didn't have the time to ponder it deeply, nor did a timing easily appear to force a conversation by pushing him.
Because from now on, there was no time.
[VTIC – ‘Serpent’ Official M/V]
VTIC’s promotion period had arrived like a storm.