Promising Newbie
Just moments ago, the man had faced a monster and exchanged words with it.
His name couldn't be revealed, but everyone called him J, taking the first letter of it.
It wasn't because of his peculiar personality.
Due to the nature of their work, death, abduction, or even vanishing into thin air could happen anytime, anywhere without raising eyebrows.
So, colleagues in the same organization all used pseudonyms like this.
Whether to avoid getting attached or to minimize leaked info if someone got captured—it didn't matter.
And now, that J stood in the center of a dark room to report his actions to his superiors.
The square room had no furniture, no windows—a completely sealed space.
Only a single beam of light from an unknown source illuminated him in the darkness.
'Report received: No removal or containment measures taken against the anomaly.'
"Yes."
A voice of unknown origin echoed from all directions, and he answered, standing rigidly with hands behind his back.
'Reason.'
"Judged it would be helpful."
'Subject.'
"To our organization and everyone, including us."
'Verification procedure.'
"Completed both personal procedure using gold coins and official verification procedure."
As the voice faded, silence fell.
J swallowed quietly amid the tension, then pushed up his glasses, slick with sweat on the bridge of his nose.
'Confirmed. Permitted… Entry Team.'
"Thank you. I'll relay it."
'Current location of the aforementioned anomaly.'
"Right now… she's in the cafeteria."
Arin fiddled busily with her chopsticks over a tray of small portions of various foods.
She furrowed her brow uncomfortably at the subtle stares.
Even excluding surveillance personnel, her status as anything but ordinary wasn't public knowledge yet.
So the looks weren't like staring at a monster.
But plenty of people showed curiosity and puzzlement at a kid in school uniform here.
Ignoring the gazes as best she could, Arin popped some kimbap from her tray into her mouth.
For a building and facilities that look so rundown, the rice is surprisingly good, she thought.
But this place in particular is full of stuff straight out of old dramas.
Outside, it was like her original world—flat-screen TVs like paper, in-wall ACs, smartphones everywhere.
But inside, chunky CRT TVs and old-fashioned corded phones caught the eye.
They're not skimping by using ancient hand-me-downs, are they? Those things are hard to get parts for nowadays—probably costs more.
As Arin chewed amid random thoughts, J returned.
He'd sent her to the cafeteria with surveillance and gone somewhere, now sitting across from her.
"Aren't you eating, mister?"
"Later. For now, most of the additional conditions you requested have been approved by upper management. Should be finalized in an hour."
"Most…?"
"Fake ID, daily allowance, vacation—basics like that will be granted."
"Huh… Honestly, I thought those would be the hardest."
"Civilian contact prohibited. Even with testimony verifying ideology or thoughts, it's still an uncontrollably anomalous phenomenon."
Arin looked glum at the no-contact-with-others verdict.
J paused, then added an explanation.
"Conversely, if upper management judges it a reliably controllable anomaly, approval's easy. We already use several controllable anomalies for responses."
"That's… great! Gotta work hard then."
"Do you know what work we'll assign?"
"…Obviously."
Arin swallowed a fried shrimp tail and all, shell included, while listening and munching.
She answered matter-of-factly.
"Suicide squad, right?"
Who better than her for grinding people into anomalies to find rules and exploits? she joked.
But she added that since she felt all the pain and shock, don't kill her for fun.
A few hours later, she received an ID with her current name and photo.
Guided to what they called a dorm—but labeled an isolation room—she now faced someone here to explain the place and its work.
"Uh… excuse me…"
This Record Keeper notifies that the phenomenon currently calling itself Kim Arin is indeed looking at this Record Keeper's eye.
"I… see…?"
The woman in a neat gray suit facing Arin had a camera for a head.
Not digital, not film—an ancient wooden camera, like from history books or museums.
This Record Keeper notifies that it is beginning the explanation.
"Yes, got it…"
Arin was most curious where the voice came from.
But to survive here, better to listen and remember well.
She prepared to pay attention.
This Record Keeper notifies that the current building is an anomaly. Exploration, containment, and neutralization measures have already been completed. This Record Keeper notifies that it is in use as the Anomaly Response and Management Agency headquarters, utilizing the property that no new anomalies occur within a space created by an anomaly.
"Ah, so that's the condition…"
This Record Keeper notifies that within this anomaly, items designed after a specific era do not function or malfunction. This Record Keeper notifies that this rule applies equally to anomalies disguised as other objects.
"That's why it's full of old stuff…"
Anomaly Response and Management Agency regulations are…
Without needing reactions, the Record Keeper cut Arin off and rattled off only what it had to say.
Its lens flashed once, and it pulled out papers from somewhere.
This Record Keeper notifies that when recording the entity currently facing, it will refer to it as the "surviving schoolgirl."
"Uh… okay?"
This Record Keeper notifies that the required explanation is complete.
The Record Keeper finished and bolted out.
Arin stared blankly at the spot, dumbfounded, scratching her cheek.
"Uh… um… They said go to the Entry Team after the explanation…"
Honestly, it went by too fast—half forgotten already.
But there'd be chances to ask later.
She stood, checked the pre-provided map, and headed to the elevator.
Not sleek silver doors, but ornate copper ones—like everything else outdated.
Instead of a digital floor display, clock hands moved behind a window to show levels.
Waiting briefly, other staff gathered to use it.
Arin got more "why's a student here?" looks.
Doors opened; she moved to enter first but stopped.
A prior occupant inside.
Something in a red uniform and hat trimmed with white cord blinked four eyes on its face at her.
Arin froze in shock, hesitating.
Waiting staff moved first.
"Floor 4."
"13th floor for me."
Arin watched them naturally state floors, the thing nod and press buttons naturally.
She hid her tension, boarded awkwardly.
"Uh… hi…? Basement 6, please…"
It nodded for others, but paused at her request, turned to meet her eyes.
Boarding staff showed odd reactions too.
As Arin wondered if she'd messed up, one staff asked her.
"Hey, miss? Just 6th floor, right?"
"Yes? No, basement 6."
She repeated basement 6; the thing tilted its head, slowly moved a finger to the B6 button—like giving time to correct.
Meanwhile, another staff asked Arin.
"Student, basement's where the teachers handling the most dangerous jobs work. Only permitted personnel go there."
"Ah?"
"Can you tell us who pranked you into going there?"
Arin dug in her pocket, pulled out her card.
The staff muttering about punishing the prankster on a kid via audit team fell silent, eyes widening at the card.
Moments later, basement 6 arrived.
During descent, Arin learned the thing was really a bellboy.
She turned back with thanks and stepped off.
One remaining staff muttered in stunned tone.
"No way, really? That kid for Entry Team…? Is our agency's manpower shortage that bad?"
Amid rough military-clad people passing, Arin followed her map.
Soon, before a thick iron door.
No marks for shooting, fitness—just "Training Room" on the plaque.
Puzzled, Arin knocked and entered.
Smooth rubber mat floor, bumpy rubber walls.
Corner stacked with unidentifiable tires.
Familiar acrid, fishy smell hung in the air.
"Um…"
The sole occupant.
Arin awkwardly waved at the figure—man or woman?—wrapped head to toe in dark military gear.
She grumbled she wasn't told whom to meet here.
Finally, a response.
"You're the one that doesn't die?"
"Not doesn't die, but dies and revives…"
"Questions."
Bowing head in seated pose, raised right hand, tiredly extended one finger.
"Doesn't die—rewind time to restart incident? Or recover on spot?"
"Uh, just revive where I died. Not recovery—body resets to original…"
"Then, body tied to specific time? Or experience accumulates, body just revives?"
"At first thought body time-rewound, but after month with cultists, stamina increased? So I dunno…"
"Hm."
Two fingers down, he grunted, raised third.
"Fear death?"
"Used to. Now more fear the dying process than death."
"Much death experience?"
"Plenty? Eaten, burned, stabbed, beheaded, crushed…"
"Work here?"
"People I wanna meet—work hard, they say I can. Wasn't long, but dying's my specialty now."
All five fingers up, he holstered hand at waist, stood, approached Arin.
"Interview over."
"Wait, this was the interview?"
"Training with me."
"What kind of traini—ghk… grk…"
Arin couldn't finish, hands to throat.
Spurting blood pooled; each breath bubbled foam back through mouth and nose.
"I'm Alpha, Entry Team 4 leader. Call me Alpha Team Leader."
"Ghk… krrgh…"
He overlooked her writhing on floor.
Sheathed the dagger from his waist, continued.
"Revive and charge again. Honestly… I'm really looking forward to this newbie's show."
Twisting in throat pain and suffocation pressure, Arin's last glare cursed him.
Then only blood pool remained as she vanished.