Results of the First Field Assignment
Even if I'd revealed the true nature of those things lurking in the fog, I couldn't have beaten them in a fight.
How do you fight something you can't even grab?
Still, when it came to dealing with the invisible versus the visible, the latter was clearly the better option.
"Hmm… a spider? A sea urchin? Made by bundling severed human arms together? Anyway, multiple entities."
Muttering to herself that she needed to take thorough notes before trying again, Arin organized the intel she'd just gathered and replayed the moment they'd appeared in her mind.
The situation had been simple: after the fog engulfed the box she'd entered, their forms began emerging over the handprints that kept smacking against it.
It wasn't like she'd activated her phone or navigation or tried anything specific.
They'd simply moved away from her phone and nav.
"Come to think of it, I saw something like shadows reflected outside the fog."
Outside the fog, their shapes were obscured by it.
Inside the fog, they were invisible around devices that pinpointed the victims' locations.
Simple enough once explained, but damn hard to figure out when you were the one in the thick of it.
"And the most important part: we can't grab them here… They're fast, too. Totally cheating, right?"
Arin made one more request to the Support Team, who were still hanging back for follow-up assistance instead of heading out.
It'd be great if they could capture everything and neutralize the anomaly outright, but they didn't have the resources for that now.
The priority was finding a way for civilians to pass through unscathed—and compiling it.
And for that, she needed to verify a method anyone could use, not just her transparent box trick.
"Uh… I can drive…"
"I have a driver's license. Well… not on me right now, but."
Ignoring the Support Team's skeptical stares, she borrowed their car for a bit.
Her hands were a little rusty on the wheel after so long, but she hit the road without issue.
Soon, the fog thickened outside the window.
She pulled over, dropped her phone on the floor, drove a bit farther, then killed the engine.
Here it comes.
Through the fog, she watched masses of hands and arms sloshing across the entire road with wet slaps.
She crossed her arms silently and stared out the window.
As expected, the hands converged on her phone but couldn't find her.
They circled aimlessly, thumping onto the car roof and hood over and over.
Handprints bloomed across the windshield and bonnet.
She held her breath, watching for about five minutes until the fog thinned and the sounds faded away.
She checked the mirrors for fog approaching from the other side, then finally exhaled hard and stepped out.
"Fog's… gone. And the nav… shut off."
She picked up her phone, turned the car around, and drove back to her starting point.
Ignoring the Support Team's dumbfounded stares at the car thief, she U-turned and hit the road again.
This time, same conditions as before—but she kept the phone inside the car, close by.
Silent, she faced the spider-urchin-hand things.
They followed the nav's voice prompts straight to her car, pounding and shaking it viciously.
Handprints layered on until the glass seemed ready to shatter, the whole vehicle rattling.
But she didn't move a muscle.
A bit later, she drove back—windows etched solid with prints—to rejoin the Support Team and return to the Anomaly Response and Management Agency.
She reported back to the Entry Team, then headed to J.
"Back sooner than expected. Problem?"
"Don't know how to neutralize it, but I've got countermeasures."
"…Already?"
Arin handed over her compiled notes to J, who looked mildly surprised—and a tad suspicious, like she'd half-assed it.
"Ignore the title up top: 'Handprint Road Monsters Rulebook—Revised Revised Revised Edition.'"
She explained.
"The rules aren't that complex. Countermeasures are straightforward, too."
"How straightforward? 'Easy' by your standards doesn't count."
"Roll up all the windows, kill the engine, and sit tight. Quietly."
"That's it?"
"Yeah. Wait five to ten minutes, and they leave. Nav shutting off on its own means they're fully gone."
Arin added that even a tiny groan seemed to invite them inside.
She offered her phone with the videos, spreading her arms wide with a cocky grin, like Impressed?
"We'll verify it once more. Can't use it if it's just you."
"…That makes me nervous. When others verify, you at least bolt a panic room to the car, right?"
The next night, Entry Team members and others gathered on the foggy road for verification.
Two volunteers drove in.
Arin waited nearby in case something went wrong and she had to re-enter to figure out the rules and bypass.
She watched their taillights fade with anxious eyes.
"Verification starting."
Radio silence followed amid the group's tension.
The wait dragged.
Then a short beep—connection.
'Standby Team, respond.'
"This is Standby. Report?"
'Verification Team. We've hit the fog and hands… Reached Point B…'
They paused, like fiddling with settings.
Arin clenched her fists, heart pounding, waiting.
'…Verification complete. Rulebook's good to go.'
"Whoa! Knew it!"
One last test remained: how loud before they breached the car.
But countermeasures were basically set.
Everyone on site couldn't hide their joy.
Even the usually stoic Entry Team cheered, arms thrust skyward.
"First time writing a rulebook with zero casualties!"
"…Hey, what about me? I was the one sacrifice."
"…You're not a 'one' on paper. You're an 'it.'"
"Harsh!"
In this world, once agencies like the Anomaly Response and Management Agency established rules, they relayed them to governments for rapid distribution.
Excluding ultra-dangerous ones that worsened with awareness, they spread via papers, news, texts, websites.
For location-specific anomalies, systems auto-warned incoming drivers, like accident-prone zone alerts.
One night, a weary office worker drove home alone.
For insurance discounts, he always ran his nav while driving.
Desperate to crash into bed ASAP, he gripped the wheel, fighting drooping eyes.
He noticed something off only after a while.
Endless road despite driving far.
Sudden thick fog.
A vague warning before entering.
Putting it together, he realized he'd hit an anomaly.
He slapped his cheeks, shook his head to banish sleep.
"Ah… ah! I heard something, right?!"
The nav blared loud despite low volume.
He snapped alert, pulled to the shoulder, checked all windows sealed, killed the engine.
What now? What was it?!
Fog swallowed everything, not a foot ahead visible.
Sloshing sounds approached from somewhere.
Right—do nothing, keep quiet, ignore them.
He barely recalled the new rulebook: nav would be loud, but never touch it, stay silent.
Hand over mouth-block over mouth, eyes shut.
'You have arrived at your destination. You have arrived…'
Something outside heard the nav—the car rocked, thumps echoing inside.
He wanted to bolt, but trusted the rules, slumped in his seat.
Silence fell.
He cracked his eyes.
Handprints everywhere—new ones layering on.
Realizing they were right outside, he nearly screamed—but his hand stayed clamped.
An eternity later, fog lifted, familiar scenery returned.
He exhaled, stared at the darkened nav screen.
"Haa… Gotta take tomorrow off."
He pulled back onto the road, glanced in the mirror at the path behind.
Nothing unusual now.
But he'd never pass lightly again.
"Ah~ I miss Auntie Seoyeong!"
"Not even hiding it anymore?"
"Well… I've thought about it nonstop, and dying over and over made it clear. Love at first sight."
"I see."
"Don't worry, J. Your fated encounter's coming someday."
"Not interested."
Hiding in J's office to dodge training, Arin seized the chance.
"Mind if I ask? Status on the folks who escaped the Church that day?"
J adjusted his glasses.
"No big issues. They're living normally, getting PTSD treatment."
"Yeah, but you're mostly talking about that mom and daughter, right?"
"Obviously. …Don't get stalker vibes."
"They're both fine. Stop worrying."
"Yessir."
J didn't mention they were asking about her.
Arin's agency work—and childlike appearance as an anomaly—couldn't go public.
Videos of her exiting the church were deleted or sealed.
No records from her prior ID, no missing person filing needed.
Other survivors never heard of her.
But memories lingered—especially for the mother and daughter.
They'd been close, briefly, and she'd saved them big-time.
Seoyeong and Gaeun inquired regularly, alternating, about the girl's whereabouts.
Always "not found."
Memory wipe's an option, but she'd never cooperate then.
One real op, and she'd proven her value.
No gain in extremes.
Thinking of the paper in his desk drawer, J spun a coin on his finger.
…If HQ approves, arrange a meet with conditions?
Carrot after stick works best.
With that, J set the coin down, watching Arin dragged off by the Entry Team leader's grip on her hair.