The Man Under the Bed
I called Woorim Group after a long time. [Hello, Director. To what do I owe the pleasure?]
"Well, I need to acquire something..."
A phone call with Woo Jin-ho. It still felt awkward contacting an executive directly just to buy a single item. He was a very high-ranking person, after all. I couldn't shake the feeling that calling for something so trivial might be overstepping.
But there was no choice. All the gear the Foundation used came from Woorim Group. Going through the Foundation for this would've been tricky since the case fell under Special Task Force jurisdiction. Eyes were on me from every angle.
[We have just the item you're looking for. I'll send someone over.]
"Ah, thank you."
[On a completely different note, if it's alright with you, may I send an invitation to you as well, Director?]
"Pardon? An invitation?"
I blinked. What was that supposed to mean?
[I don't know the details myself. Miyoung Net mentioned they might need to invite you soon and casually asked our thoughts on it.]
"Miyoung Net... the deep web?"
[I expect they'll contact you directly from Miyoung Net soon. If you accept, we'll provide support.]
That's what Woo Jin-ho said. His tone sounded considerate, but I knew better. It meant, 'We'll help you this time, so you help us next time.' Socializing 101. There seemed to be some deal between Woorim Group and Miyoung Net. If they just delivered me to Miyoung Net, Woorim would get something out of it. Whatever that was.
But the deep web?
One of the four major powers—the most neutral one—reaching out to me. It didn't feel like a trap, and my curiosity spiked even higher. What could they want?
"Got it. Thanks for the heads-up."
Afterward, Woorim Group sent over a staff member.
"Should I install this under the bed?"
Slightly increases the chance of Muksi Saengmyeongche spawning at the installation site with its ringing.
"They say the sound of bells has called spirits since ancient times. And in the occult, bloodstained objects often serve as coordinates."
Like drawing a demon-summoning circle with blood or staining a blade. And so on.
"That's why we soaked the bell in blood outright. The finish on the bell was done with a nail from a coffin of the dead, and we used various other materials to craft it."
"...You put a lot of effort into this."
I'd only wanted the effect of boosting Muksi Saengmyeongche spawn rates, no need for the item's backstory... I decided to use it just for this case and return it later. No way I wanted something that ominous hanging around the office forever.
"I wonder if it'll really show up, though."
The victim's bed, a monster-summoning bell. I'd done everything possible, but whether a monster appeared was still a matter of probability.
There's pleasure in knowing something no one else does. Will you figure it out? What matters is I'm ahead because I know. That's why murder is an overwhelming thrill. You have no idea you're about to die.
"Aigoo... Sitting around all day is exhausting."
The woman stretched as she emerged. She wore a uniform. Didn't look like she was clocking out.
"Waiting on standby ain't easy, yawn..."
She grabbed her wallet and shuffled to the convenience store right in front. Returned with a plastic bag stuffed with snacks, then headed back inside.
The man slipped across the street, watching her through the window. Triangle kimbap, chips, cream buns, donuts, pudding, mini pork hocks, and more. Just convenience store junk, but she devoured it like a feast. The odd thing? She kept her hat on even indoors.
I knew she loved convenience store food, pulled all-nighters on standby, and crashed in the nap room after. But that hat off? No clue.
"Hmm."
That bugged him. He lived for the thrill of exclusive knowledge. That sense of superiority. Know this? Everyone's organs vary slightly in color and shape. How many have seen their own intestines, appendix, kidneys? Most folks have no idea what their guts look like. Superior info is bliss. And sharing it? Pure ecstasy.
Look here. Your intestines are like this. Kidneys like this, appendix this, large intestine that, pancreas so. And now you'll die like this.
"Am I weird?"
No. Far from it. Even in games, veterans get a kick teaching noobs. Same logic. He got called a psychopath, but he couldn't relate. Isn't chasing fun the most primal urge? Even cats hunt mice for kicks.
He watched her like that for a while. She worked nights. After hours, everyone else left, and she stayed—for standby duty, apparently. But she barely worked. Snacked till midnight, then napped. The boss tolerated it, no complaints.
"That bitch deserves to die!"
Slacking off? No backlash if he judged her. He'd studied her enough. Time to act.
Next day, same routine to the convenience store. He watched till then, then went to the window. This was a game. Spot the mark he left and run? Her win. Knowledge is pleasure, so fair chance. Botch it? Deserves death, idiot!
He headed to the nap room.
"Hm?"
A bell. He nudged it aside and slid under the bed.
Soon, the door opened. Crunching potato chips. Gulping drinks. Eating sounds nonstop.
Footsteps approached. He pondered.
What message to leave?
Rarely at her home this time—her workplace. Coworkers would find the body. Just a corpse? Boring. Had to teach them something fun. Rip her gut open, write on the wall in blood: 'Hire better staff?' Not bad. Yank all her teeth for punchline gold.
He waited. Patience paid off with snores. She never noticed. Learning till death is life. She learned zilch—unworthy of breath.
He slid out. Gazed at her sleeping face. Curtains always drawn at bedtime—no hatless view till now.
Ears. Animal ears. Puppy ears.
Eh?
"Hello, customer?"
-Snap! His wrist seized.
"Wh-what the...!"
"I've been waiting, customer! This way! No beauty salon—let me handle you!"
He got dragged. Knife hand caught, no big resistance. Swung his free fist—
"Ow! Customer, that hurts! Violence against crew is against rules!"
She opened a door labeled 'Train Station.'
Beyond: vast platform, hordes of attendants.
"Brought the customer!"
"Finally?"
"This way!"
"Over here!"
"No red carpet—that's for the Director!"
"Grab his legs—no stepping!"
"Let go! Release me!"
Too many to fight. Squirming futile, he got shoved aboard.
Thud! Seated, shoulders pinned.
Train announcement blared.
A cute girl's voice.