A Brilliant Laboratory Life
Another peaceful day of laboratory life!
Today, as always, I study and manage the creatures known as Anomalies. Why do I do this work?
That's simple enough to explain. These things appeared before humanity one day, and promptly stripped us of our home.
Well, to be precise, they had always existed. It was just that an organization called the Management Bureau kept them thoroughly hidden. Whenever anyone caught sight of an Anomaly, they would use memory erasers and other means to keep the secret, no matter what it took.
But even the Management Bureau, with branch offices spanning the entire globe, had its limits.
In the end, the Bureau failed to contain and quarantine the Anomalies, and the whole world learned what they were.
And what happened then?
What else? Private research labs like the Zernia Research Institute, where I work now, sprang up like weeds.
Of course, eventually there were so many that the government stepped in and established standards, but that's none of my concern. I'm not the director, after all.
"Oh, Senior Researcher."
"Morning, Merisa. You're in early today."
I ran into a familiar face on my way down the hall. She and I didn't have much overlap in our work, but we'd collaborated on several projects, so we were friendly enough.
Which meant I knew roughly when she clocked in. She was always, always late.
Apparently she'd once been chewed out by her team leader over it, but she never managed to fix the habit. Eventually the team leader just gave up on her.
Anyway, that's why I complimented her on showing up early today. There's a saying, isn't there? The early bird catches the worm.
So building a habit like that couldn't be a bad thing. Not that I intended to push it on anyone—personal freedom deserves respect, after all.
But something was off about Merisa. The moment I mentioned how early she was, she went quiet all of a sudden.
"Merisa?"
"Y-yes?"
"You okay?"
She told me she was fine, then excused herself, saying she had things to do.
"Hmm... well, I'm sure it's nothing."
Thinking nothing of it, I went off to my own duties. A few minutes' walk brought me to the control room beside the containment cell of today's Anomaly.
"Hey! Leave that alone!"
"Yes, sir!"
Hm. It's always loud in here, isn't it?
I slipped in before the other researchers could break anything, and the moment I crossed the threshold, I called out.
"Everyone! Good morning!"
"Ah, you're here, Chief."
"That's right. How's our friend doing today?"
The one who answered was Kim Ji-hwan, one of the full researchers. I asked straight away about the Anomaly's condition.
"Fortunately, nothing unusual happened overnight."
"Really? Then let's get to work."
At my word, everyone sprang into motion, setting aside whatever they'd been doing to prepare for today's experiment.
Oh, right—of all the Anomalies under my care, this one is special. It's the creature that vomits up gold when it's in pain.
Its name is the Golden Lizard. Exactly what it sounds like: a lizard, golden in color.
Managing it is simplicity itself. Feed it quality food and it turns docile as a lamb. Beyond that, nothing else about it has ever been discovered.
Which is why we just keep it stocked with food and run our experiments to our hearts' content.
"Chief! Preparations are complete!"
"Good. Then let's begin today's experiment."
The goal today was to find out how long the lizard could endure pain, and how much of it. Normally we limited ourselves to something like a whip, but today was different.
The question at hand: does the amount of gold produced vary with the intensity of the pain? That's what we meant to find out.
We'd never gotten approval for it before—it would hardly do to kill off a profitable Anomaly for nothing.
But for some reason, authorization came through a few days ago. So we wanted to run the experiment quickly, before anyone thought to rescind it.
"Hm. Let's start with Stage One."
The weapon we intended to use on the lizard was itself built from Anomalies. Its pain output was calibrated in stages—what the target felt at Stage One would register as mild pain, Stage Two as moderate, and so on.
In other words, it delivered pain suited to each setting. A customizable torture machine, in a word!
Having confirmed it was set to Stage One, I pressed the button. The massive weapon fired its laser.
"Kieeeee!"
The lizard shrieked in pain. Unease flickered across the faces of the other researchers at the sound, but there was nothing to worry about. That lizard was a terrible drama queen to begin with.
Still, I supposed I ought to reassure the ones who were rattled.
"Relax, everyone. I've tested this weapon plenty of times myself. And you know how much of a drama queen that lizard is."
My reassurance had absolutely no effect. Ahem. This is a little awkward.
Anyway, I pressed on with the experiment, cranking the stage higher and higher. And at last, the moment came when we had to stop.
"Chief! Vital signs say we can't push any further."
"Really? Then so be it."
I gazed quietly at the lizard, worn out from the long experiment. It definitely shouldn't have been able to see us from there, and yet it seemed to fix its eyes on me and pour out its resentment.
"Chief?"
"Ah—let's call it here for today. And give the poor thing something to eat."
"Understood."
And so the Golden Lizard experiment came to an end.
*
*
*
Today was the day I supervised the management of the Cleaning Fiend. It was also the day my mood plummeted to rock bottom.
Because it's the Anomaly I hate most in this entire institute.
Why? Simple.
"Because it cleans everything."
True to its name, this Anomaly cleans away absolutely anything—which is how an object I'd carelessly left behind inside the containment cell once vanished without a trace.
"Ugh... yes, it was my mistake, but still!"
Anyway, that's why I hate it. Management is easy enough, though. Since the thing loves cleaning, you just give it an environment where it can clean to its heart's content.
"Alright. Let's get through today too."
When I reached the containment cell, I opened the door right away—and there was Merisa, whom I hadn't seen in days.
"Oh, Merisa. So you're here today."
"Ah, Senior Researcher."
She turned at my call and greeted me. I returned the greeting and asked if she'd been feeling all right lately.
She'd looked a little off the other day.
"I'm fine. Perfectly fine."
"Really? Well, that's a relief."
I gave her shoulder a light pat and told her to hang in there. Then I gathered the attention of the other researchers.
"Now. Today is simple maintenance, so there's nothing else on the schedule. Make yourselves comfortable."
A cheer went up from the group. I watched them with satisfaction and headed for my designated seat.
"Let's see... where's the coffee..."
But before I sat down, I remembered my coffee. So I changed course and made for the break room. I was digging through the coffee mix packets when I noticed something strange about the feel of my hand.
"Hm?"
A closer look showed something sticky smeared across my palm. When on earth had that happened?
Frowning, I pulled a few sheets from the tissue box beside me and scrubbed away, but it didn't come off as easily as I'd expected.
"Tch. I'll just go wash my hands."
So the tissue went into the trash, and I walked over to the sink. I turned on the tap and scrubbed.
"Thankfully, water does the trick."
Hands washed, I pulled out a few more tissues and dried them off. And then it suddenly occurred to me—I had touched Merisa's shoulder with these very hands.
"Ah... I should apologize."
I'd patted her shoulder without any idea this stuff was on my hand. Even if it wasn't on purpose, an apology was only right.
I'd apologize to Merisa before heading to my seat. With that thought, I stepped out of the break room—and found her getting chewed out.
The one berating her was a full researcher, one rank above her. Apparently she'd made some kind of mistake.
"Merisa! Where is your head?!"
"I'm sorry..."
"Sorry doesn't fix it!! We almost had a real catastrophe on our hands!"
Merisa just hung her head and repeated her apologies over and over. Even so, the researcher tearing into her showed no sign of calming down.
So I decided to step in. Berating someone like that in a public space wasn't right, and this was exactly the sort of situation that senior researchers were for.
I walked over to them. The researcher spotted me and just barely managed to compose herself before speaking.
"Chief."
"I don't think this is the moment for pleasantries. What happened?"
At my question, she seized the opening and started pouring out the story. From what she said, Merisa had fumbled a button sequence and nearly released the Anomaly.
Naturally, that put a damper on my mood. If it were true, she needed to take a break.
She was currently a lead researcher. She hadn't been here forever, but she was still someone who'd been through the wringer at this institute for years. And she made a mistake like that?
This was serious. Every single Anomaly was a dangerous existence—the ones that hadn't been contained yet were diligently busy killing people as we spoke.
Even the military struggled against them, that was simply reality. And if one of the Anomalies we'd barely managed to contain got loose? Then all of us go down together.
So I asked Merisa directly: was it true?
"...I'm sorry."
Haah. Clearly this wasn't the time or place for a proper conversation. So I decided to call her aside.
"But Chief—!"
"Hush. I'll take it from here."
The researcher apparently wanted Merisa disciplined right there and then. That way, the reasoning went, she'd never repeat the mistake.
But that was a bad approach. It might erase the mistake in the moment, but it would leave a wound in Merisa's heart.
So I called her away, leaving the researcher to fume on her own.
"Merisa. Everyone makes mistakes. Yes, some mistakes can't be undone—but people still grow through the mistakes they make."
"I'm sorr—"
"Enough with the apologies. Just do better next time."
This time I gave her shoulder a hearty thump to drive the point home. But something felt off. I looked at my palm—something sticky clung to it.
"Hm? This is..."
It looked like the same liquid from the break room. Had I patted her left shoulder just now?
But that couldn't be. I'd thumped her right shoulder earlier. Still, Merisa seemed the most likely source of this stuff, so I resolved to just ask her about it.
The instant I reached out to show her my palm, my hand vanished.
"Huh?"
"My apologies—but die."
At those words, she reached out her hand, and I was soaring through the air.
No...
By the time I realized the being before me was not Merisa at all, but a Mimic, it was already too late. My head and my body had been separated.
And so I died.
*
*
*
"Huh...?"
And when I opened my eyes again, I made the single stupidest sound of my entire life.
While being an Anomaly, no less.