The Harpy's Unexpected Gift
The rapid tapping of keys echoed through the dim room, lit only by the faint glow of multiple monitors. Click, click, tap-tap-tap. The low hum of cooling fans filled the space as fingers flew across keyboards and mice clicked without pause.
"Aah..."
Her eyes felt heavy. A dried-out white sheet mask clung to her face, paired with oversized horn-rimmed glasses. Her bleached-blonde hair, roots showing, was messily tied back. After three straight nights of overtime, her eyes were starting to sting.
"Ugh... I really want a vacation."
Most people would say they wanted to go home, but for her, home meant work never truly ended. A vacation was the only thing she truly craved. She had even set up a makeshift living space in the office because commuting felt like a waste of time. Now she sat in oversized heart-patterned pajama pants and a stretched-out T-shirt, a pair of bunny-eared slippers lying pitifully beneath her chair.
She sipped at a now-watery iced coffee through a straw while her hands and eyes never stopped moving. Nine large monitors demanded her full attention, and even two hands felt insufficient.
Tap-tap... click, tap-tap.
She paused, noticing something odd. The keyboard sounds weren't coming only from her hands. Her awkward posture made sense now—she had been using her toes to operate a second keyboard on the floor, switching screens with practiced ease.
Her monitors displayed a flood of data: social media posts, chat logs, text messages, transcribed calls, and complaints filed with police, fire departments, and government offices. Algorithms now filtered most of it, but the sheer volume still required her personal review.
She sighed, glancing at her reflection in a darkened screen. Dark circles peeked through the eye holes of her mask. "Haa..."
The only reason she endured this brutal workload was the generous salary that funded her luxury shopping addiction.
"How much was that new item again..."
She pulled up product details for a handbag and heels on one monitor, letting the sight recharge her briefly before diving back into work.
A suit jacket hung on a nearby rack, its name tag clearly visible.
CODE NAME: NEURALYZER
Neuralyzer—the so-called "ghost of the office"—was the Response Team Leader. Most of her work was administrative, but when her abilities were needed, she deployed to the field. And when she did, her presence was nothing short of overwhelming.
"Good morning."
"Ack!!"
A grating, metallic voice rang out as something warm and solid pressed against her face. She flinched, hands leaving the keyboard and mouse for a split second before professionalism kicked in and she resumed working without missing a beat.
She adjusted her slipping mask with one shoulder while keeping her eyes on the screens. "When did you even get in here? Could you at least make some noise when you move around, Management Team Leader?"
"How cold of you, after I brought you a gift."
"A gift? Ack!"
Her head whipped around at the word. Sitting before her was a familiar containment subject's egg—cleaned of moisture but still faintly warm. The same thing that had just touched her face.
"I told you I don't need Harpy eggs!"
"Is it because it's unfertilized?"
"Fertilized or not, I don't want it!"
She let out a sharp, nervous yelp that the masked woman clearly enjoyed, then resumed typing with irritated vigor.
"Ugh... It's because of her estrus cycle, isn't it? Just wait a bit. I'll be done with this soon enough."
Apparently, she had been helping with the Harpy during her mating periods.
"I heard sightings of anomalous entities have been increasing lately. Even our Field Team Leader seems constantly busy."
"Yeah, yeah. With how developed civilian networks are these days, things spread faster and get exposed more easily."
"I know I'm interrupting your work. As compensation, I'll give you a half-day off."
Thud!
The moment the words "half-day" registered, her eyes lit up. She shut off her monitors in one fluid motion, spun her chair around, and grabbed the clown-masked woman's gloved hand with both of hers. The gloves felt unpleasant, but for a half-day off, she could tolerate anything.
"...Hehe. That's what colleagues are for, right? I'll gladly accept this."
She took the egg and opened the mini-fridge beneath her desk, searching for space among the energy drinks and coffee cans. Several similar eggs already sat in the egg basket on the door. Her expression twisted briefly at the sight before she forced a smile and closed the fridge.
"Ah, this might actually be the last time I ask for help, though."
"That's a shame... Ahem. Any particular reason?"
She had found the occasional half-day annoying but not entirely unwelcome. Hearing it might be the last time made her curious.
"The new counselor has been quite enthusiastic about bonding with the Harpy. I expect we'll be able to bring you a fertilized egg soon."
"...Fertilized eggs are even more unsettling, you know?"
She removed her glasses, peeled off the dried mask, and tossed it into the trash before slipping on her bunny slippers.
"Ughhh..."
Her legs had gone numb from sitting awkwardly for so long. She collapsed back into her chair just as the masked woman leaned in close.
"...You just had a very rude thought, didn't you?"
"It's because you keep saying weird things."
"It was a joke, of course. I wouldn't turn such valuable research material on the Harpy's closed breeding system into an omelet."
"An omelet, seriously..."
Whether fertilized or not, those eggs without shell markings needed to be disposed of eventually. She might drop by the Level 8 sector later.
"Anyway, take this chance to introduce yourself to the counselor."
"He's with her right now, I assume? Where..."
Still wearing her heart-patterned pajama pants, she threw on just the suit jacket and grabbed her terminal. As she shuffled toward the door in her slippers, she quickly pulled up the profile of the newly hired thirteenth counselor.
"Huh? How do you even read this name... Oh, it's Sim Geon-ung."
"His name and face don't really match, do they?"
"Hmm, yeah... He looks pretty ordinary, but not bad either?"
"The President was practically drooling over him."
She zoomed in on the photo with two fingers, then turned the now-dark screen toward herself, studying her own exhausted reflection. The dark circles were bad, and no amount of sheet masks could fix all-nighters.
She let out a conflicted groan. Honestly, showering and putting on makeup just to meet a new hire felt like too much trouble. But after seeing his photo, the inconvenience somehow lost the battle.
"Wait thirty minutes. I'll wash up and do my makeup real quick."