Chapter 17
Chapter 17
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: Even If I Fall into a Ghost Story, I Still Have to Go to Work
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Right around the time Field Exploration Team's D Squad plunged into the abyss of the anomaly.
"Section Chief, what's your wager on the classification this time? Destined for a D-grade, don't you think?"
"Jesus, Assistant Manager Lee. Can we at least pretend to have some professional tact about this?"
"......"
"I get that the betting pool is a fun little distraction, but keep it quiet within the development department. Don't go running your mouth when other teams are in earshot. Understood?"
"......Ah, yes, sir."
The grin slid right off the research assistant manager's face. He snapped his mouth shut, a sour taste blooming on his tongue.
He felt a sharp spike of irritation. He had severely underestimated Section Chief Gwak Je-gang, writing the younger man off as an easygoing pushover, so being formally dressed down over a casual death-pool wager stung his pride.
And that bruised ego naturally sought a softer, easier target to project its venom onto.
The Field Exploration Team's newest meat shield!
'Look at the nerve of that kid, staring daggers at his superiors.'
He vividly recalled the rookie's dead-eyed, dismissive stare when he had so graciously offered to cut him in on the betting action. The kid had looked at him like he was a cockroach.
Kim Sol-eum, was it?
'You're nothing but a glorified lab rat for our human experiments. Where do you get off acting so high and mighty?'
Rookies drafted into the Field Exploration Team were functionally dead on arrival. Half their lifespan was already forfeit. And yet, after surviving one measly operation, this guy was strutting around with a stiff neck? It was pathetic.
He had heard the corporate legends about clueless, arrogant rookies who couldn't read the room, but it was infuriating to see one in the flesh.
'Will he die in there? God, that would be hilarious.'
His desensitized, sociopathic corporate brain anticipated the dopamine hit of a winning bet, practically salivating at the thought of the rookie's demise.
He discreetly pulled up his phone and fired off a message to the syndicate.
The company's anonymous, underground betting chat.
It was a wager fueled entirely by malicious wishful thinking. The mortality rate would skyrocket if this anomaly truly was a D-grade!
That's when his superior abruptly cut into his morbid fantasies.
"Assistant Manager Lee, ensure that preliminary experiment report is filed and sorted by the end of the day."
"...Yes, sir."
'Those lab rats won't even make it out of the darkness before I clock out anyway.'
It was grueling paperwork that he could have easily pawned off on a junior researcher during the shift change, but his boss had deliberately singled him out.
'Why do I always pull the short straw with upper management?'
Grinding his teeth, the research assistant manager opened the file and began drafting the grim mechanics of the pre-experiment report.
- 3.2 Experimental Subjects
Adults aged 18+ who have been exposed to the 5-second video ad titled "Pierrot Hates You," which violently interrupts programming as a promotional hijack on a specific video hosting site4).
'After watching that cursed video, a clown's hand bursts from the screen. Touch it, and you're dragged straight into the nightmare, right?'
It was an act of suicidal stupidity to even approach the screen.
If you see a supernatural anomaly, you run. If you actively engage it and die, that's just natural selection taking its course.
'But some lucky civilians actually manage to crawl out alive.'
According to the fragmented testimonies of surviving civilians, salvation lay in locating the specific, empty portrait frame that the clown had originally emerged from and jumping inside to return to reality.
'Those lab rats knew those parameters going in.'
But the catch was fatal: absolutely no concrete identifiers had been established to recognize the correct portrait.
The architecture of the endless corridors, the dimensions of the canvases, the ornate frame designs, even the manifestation timings—every single variable was wildly inconsistent.
The vast majority of survivors had simply hurled themselves blindly into empty frames in a blind panic, surviving purely by mathematical luck.
'Finding the correct exit is going to be an absolute meat grinder.'
Accidentally waking the clowns, desperately dodging their grotesque attacks, occasionally being forced into brutal physical combat—the sheer stamina drain would be catastrophic.
And not knowing which portrait was a safe haven and which was a death trap? That kind of paranoia would shatter a person's sanity!
At this operational pace, one or two casualties were practically guaranteed. They would likely be forced to use each other as human guinea pigs just to test the frames.
'Even if by some miracle someone escapes, it'll take them half a day. Maybe multiple days...'
"Waaaaah!"
"Clear!"
"......"
"......"
Eh?
The researcher violently snapped his head toward the containment zone.
In the far corner of the high-security lab, a cluster of figures suddenly materialized, pouring out of the extraction point.
...It was the entirety of Field Exploration Team D Squad!
"...?!"
"Is the Dream Essence Collector at capacity?"
"Yes, sir! Oh, it's registering as D-grade density!"
The researcher reflexively checked the digital clock on the wall.
2:41 PM.
'They crossed the threshold at exactly 2:15 PM...'
26 minutes.
Wait.
'...Twenty-six minutes?!'
Seeing the four members of D Squad strut out of a notoriously lethal ghost story in less time than it took to brew a pot of coffee, a suffocating, absolute silence blanketed Research Team 1's office.
'Is this a dream? No.'
'Are we the ones suffering from a ghost story hallucination? No.'
"My God! How the hell did you clear it this fast?! Hey, Section Chief, did you just physically smash your way through the anomaly's architecture again?"
Gwak Je-gang's bewildered exclamation broke the silence.
"No."
"Nope."
"The rookie handled it."
The synchronized, deadpan responses from D Squad's veterans made Gwak Je-gang's eyes widen in disbelief.
"...We meet again."
Standing quietly at the back of the formation, the rookie offered a shallow, unassuming bow.
It was Kim Sol-eum.
"...This guy did it?"
To the unvoiced, incredulous question of 'Isn't he just a greenhorn?', a nonchalant reply was immediately issued.
"What's new?"
"Deer pulled off this exact same nonsense on his very first day."
"...??"
D Squad's deputy manager and assistant manager offered zero further explanation, casually turning their backs to unequip their heavy gear.
Section Chief Lee Jaheon gave a curt nod.
"That is the reality of the situation."
"......"
"This ghost story is confirmed D-grade."
"Ah, understood."
Section Chief Lee Jaheon immediately transitioned into his standard, ruthless operational debrief. Gwak Je-gang, thoroughly accustomed to the squad leader's hyper-efficient, stream-of-consciousness reporting style, snapped back into focus.
"So, what is the core clear mechanism?"
"? I have no idea."
"......"
"Ah. Do you mind if I explain?"
From the back of the room, the rookie politely raised his hand.
"Uh, yeah... The floor is yours."
"First... the trigger advertisement required to enter this specific darkness is explicitly titled 'Pierrot Hates You,' correct?"
"That is correct."
"But the entity within is not a clown. It is a Pierrot."
"...??"
"Clowns are traditional, physical entertainers. They wear vibrant, colorful makeup, sport wide, painted-on smiles, and perform slapstick routines."
So?
"A Pierrot, however, is defined by stark, monochromatic makeup and a permanently painted-on weeping expression."
"...!"
"There is a clear, categorical distinction."
A faint, almost imperceptible smile flickered across Kim Sol-eum's pale face before vanishing entirely.
"And since the title explicitly states 'Pierrot Hates You,' I deduced that the entity would not actively pursue us."
Entertainers, fundamentally, do not chase after audiences they despise.
"To test this hypothesis, we systematically bypassed every standard clown portrait and specifically located the canvas depicting the monochromatic makeup with only a red mouth."
"......"
"For maximum safety, we maintained a strict three-meter perimeter and triggered the painting remotely."
He had meticulously analyzed the lore, formulated a hypothesis, and executed a flawless extraction within 30 minutes of entering a lethal, unfamiliar anomaly?
And judging by the fact that they were standing here...
"The Pierrot did not emerge from the canvas."
"...!"
"Instead, it quietly faded away from the painting entirely."
This rookie had surgically identified the exact, hidden solution.
Previous civilian victims, blinded by terror and actively chased by grotesque clowns erupting from every other portrait, had never noticed the distinction. But D Squad, maintaining clinical detachment and interacting only with the correct entity from a safe distance, had effortlessly unraveled the trap.
A profound chill ran down the researcher's spine.
And the rookie had accounted for the environmental variables as well.
"Pre-entry records indicated that exposing the canvases to any light source triggers the clowns to violently emerge, so we operated with zero illumination."
"Huh? Then how the hell did you identify the specific makeup on a portrait from three meters away in pitch black?"
"Ah."
Kim Sol-eum blinked innocently.
"The Squad Leader possesses flawless night vision. He spotted it without issue..."
"......"
Ah.
Gwak Je-gang bit his tongue, fighting the overwhelming urge to slowly turn and stare at D Squad's leader—a man who was functionally a walking, biological weapon.
"I highly recommend that any future operatives deployed to this zone be equipped with military-grade night-vision goggles. That should entirely neutralize the threat."
"Ah, r-right. Understood."
"That concludes my assessment."
Another heavy, crushing silence flowed through the laboratory.
Gwak Je-gang muttered, almost as if speaking to a ghost.
"So... You deduced all of this abstract logic purely from the preliminary briefing file?"
"Yes."
The rookie added, as if an afterthought had just occurred to him.
"It is highly probable that none of the previous victims possessed a strong foundational knowledge of Western theatrical history or pop-culture tropes."
"......"
Was it truly that simple?
"Uh, Sol-eum-ssi... Did you happen to study abroad in an arts program or something?"
"No."
Kim Sol-eum answered without missing a beat.
"Just random trivia knowledge."
"......"
The gathered researchers bore witness to a truly historical event: the usually slick-talking, endlessly eloquent Gwak Je-gang was rendered completely speechless!
"Oh, I also drafted a provisional field manual based on this operational theory. Foreman Park graciously lent me his field notebook..."
"Nah, don't put my name on it! Zero credit for me~ That was 100% all you, Deer~"
As the Badger-masked D Squad foreman cheerfully deflected in the background, the researchers watched Gwak Je-gang numbly accept the battered notebook.
They all craned their necks, desperately trying to peek at the pages.
Sure enough, Kim Sol-eum's entire flawless hypothesis was meticulously organized and outlined inside.
'...!'
Gwak Je-gang rapidly scanned the text, a sharp smile carving its way onto his face, and snapped the book shut.
"...Excellent. We will put this to the test immediately."
"Yes, sir."
And just like that, a definitive prototype manual for a lethal anomaly was complete.
Drafted by a single person. A brand-new recruit, no less.
"......"
The researcher who had confidently placed the death bet momentarily questioned if he was caught in a lucid dream.
Even if the kid randomly knew the difference between a clown and a Pierrot... Could a normal human being construct a flawless operational theory while trapped in a nightmare dimension and execute a perfect escape in exactly 26 minutes?
No way. It defied every law of survival probability.
'What if he's actually a monster wearing human skin?'
But that was impossible. The anomaly detection grids would never allow a monster to be hired onto the Field Exploration Team.
Furthermore, Dream Essence Collectors were biologically locked—they only reacted to the presence of genuine humanity, right?
"Squad Leader, if the research division requires that specific asset you extracted from the darkness, the protocol shifts."
"Understood."
In the midst of the collective awe, Section Chief Lee Jaheon casually handed over a shredded scrap of dirty fabric he had been clenching in his fist.
"What is that...?"
"Ah, the Squad Leader lunged three meters in a fraction of a second and grabbed the portrait Pierrot by the collar as it attempted to phase out of reality..."
It was a piece of the entity's clothing, violently torn off when the squad leader reflexively closed the gap to physically assault the fleeing ghost story.
"......"
'Birds of a feather.'
Were they genetically related? Now that he stared at them, the rookie and the squad leader even shared a similar, calculating, predatory aura.
The researcher's mind nearly spiraled into a vortex of absurd, paranoid delusions.
Meanwhile, the rookie who had just inflicted this wave of shock and awe upon the entire laboratory was dealing with his own internal crisis...
'I-I actually survived.'
His heart was still hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird from going all-in on a terrifying bluff without considering the consequences!
'Why the hell did that clown have razor-sharp teeth?! Why was it actively flaying human skin?! Why was it sucking people down into the sewer grates like deflated balloons?!'
Witnessing a gallery of moving, bloodthirsty ghost portraits manifesting in real-time had successfully given him a severe, lifelong case of coulrophobia today!
'Adding another primary cause of insomnia to the growing list...'
All he could do was marvel at how he had somehow managed to bullshit his way through the nightmare by relying on obscure theatrical trivia.
'Did I sell the act well enough?'
He hadn't acted too suspiciously, right?
He lived in paralyzing fear that someone would figure out he had a metaphysical cheat sheet and drag him down to Daydream Corporation's underground vivisection labs for intelligent entities!
Just as Kim Sol-eum was about to surrender control to his inner, screaming panic, Gwak Je-gang, who was silently turning the notebook over in his hands, spoke up.
"...Newbie Kim Sol-eum-ssi, you didn't happen to get your official business cards printed yet, did you?"
Snapping back to his meticulously crafted cool persona, Kim Sol-eum answered dutifully.
"No. New hires are not issued personalized cards until after probation..."
"Oh, come on, don't play dumb with me. You know exactly what I'm talking about."
"......"
Kim Sol-eum's internal panic froze solid.
A highly specific memory surfaced from the depths of his mind.
The sleek, ominous business card discreetly handed to him by the emcee during the bloody welcome party.
In case of need
010-0153-24865
Research Team 1's section chief flashed a predatory, knowing grin.
"If you ever want to rack up your Wish Grant points at an accelerated rate, give that number a call."
"......"
"I have a very strong feeling you'll be contacting us soon, Sol-eum-ssi."
It was a terrifyingly tempting offer.
However.
"I'm good."
Kim Sol-eum rejected the proposal without a millisecond of hesitation.
"...Hmm. Suit yourself."
Gwak Je-gang shrugged it off lightly, though his eyes gleamed with amusement.
"No particular reason not to reach out? Haha."
"......"
The reason was incredibly simple.
'Actively seeking out even more lethal events...? No fucking thank you.'
His cowardly, trauma-riddled heart couldn't take another beat of manufactured terror.
Kim Sol-eum firmly decided to settle for this relatively safe, triple-point honey event and ride it out in peace!