Not a Picnic
“I told you it’s not a picnic.”
“We landed a massive commission,” Jihyun said, waving the documents two days ago.
“It’s a subcontract from the Association. There are a few observation devices on the outskirts of the closed zone. We’re just helping with maintenance—hauling parts, jotting down readings.”
“Whoa, that’s a total breeze of a job!”
“Right? And the daily pay is half what we’d get from running a gate. No entry required—we work outside the control line.”
What kind of cushy day-labor gig was this?
The dangerous stuff would be handled by the Association’s investigation team, while we just played porter outside?
“But why would they hand us something this sweet? It’s suspicious!”
If it was this good, suspicion was only natural.
I raised a hand and voiced my logical doubt. Nayeon nodded along, and Jihyun just shrugged.
“Apparently everyone’s avoiding the area near the closed zone. Bad luck, they say.”
If that was the reason… it made sense.
“They’re re-measuring all the closed dungeons these days, but no one’s volunteering, so the Association’s in a bind.”
“Tch… but the pay’s good, so we’re going, right?”
“Looks that way.”
A clean conclusion. Very on-brand for our guild.
“Great, meeting adjourned! Jihyun, let’s pack lunches! I’ve been craving kimbap for once.”
“It’s not a picnic…”
“Still, we’ll be outdoors~ Honestly, we probably won’t have much to do anyway, so let’s bring a mat too! Oh, Byeori, is there anything you want to eat?”
“It’s work. Work. This isn’t the time to… haaah.”
While Nayeon danced her shoulders and slipped straight into picnic mode, Jihyun sighed and quietly stamped the contract.
As for me… what was I supposed to do?
I wanted to help carry stuff, but my strength was pathetic.
Ah, I’d decided.
My role this time would be the luggage itself!
After three years living as baggage, I was confident!
…At least, that was what I thought—until I glanced at the request form Jihyun had spread across the desk.
[Work Zone: A-7 (Closed Management Target)]
“……”
A-7.
Of all the closed dungeons out there, it had to be this one…
This was where I’d been snapped in half.
Honestly, the feeling wasn’t great.
“Jihyun! Where’s the mat?”
“Why would the guild even have a mat? Hurry up and finish the paperwork—”
“Ah, found it!”
“…Why do we have that?”
Watching the two of them get so excited over a rare easy job, I felt my sigh deflate on its own.
What could I do?
Sometimes in life you just had to grit your teeth and endure the unpleasant things.
Two days later, we were rattling along in the car toward the gate.
“……”
I didn’t open my mouth the entire way.
Should I say something?
It was such a pathetic story—maybe there was no need.
Honestly, staying quiet was the right call.
It was all in the past anyway.
If I brought it up and those two kind souls decided to cancel the job…
Urgh.
No pay, and we’d probably have to cover breach penalties too.
If I just kept my mouth shut, everything would be fine.
We were only going to stand in front of the dungeon for a bit.
Yeah.
I could endure it.
Enduring was my specialty.
“Byeori, want an egg?”
Nayeon peeled a boiled egg beside me and held it out. The kimbap had been vetoed by Jihyun’s glare, so the lunchbox had once again become nothing but eggs.
“…Yes.”
“You’re awfully quiet today. Car sick?”
“No.”
“Aww, it’s motion sickness! Big sis will hold your hand!”
It wasn’t motion sickness…
Still, I let her hold my hand.
Out the window, the city gradually thinned. Buildings grew shorter, people grew scarcer.
This road.
I remembered it.
Back then I’d been inside a case, but the jolting, the curves…
…The final expedition that had become my retirement ceremony came flooding back.
“……”
Keep quiet.
Don’t ruin the mood for no reason.
*
The A-7 closed zone was wrapped entirely by a single ridge of barbed wire.
Faded “No Entry” signs.
Rusted control-line posts.
And beyond them, halfway up the mountain—
a crack.
A massive wound torn long across empty air.
It had been sealed, so the light was dead, yet its sheer size pressed down with an oppressive weight.
A year later, and it still wasn’t welcome.
Of course it wasn’t.
This was the place that had turned a has-been like me into complete trash. Why would it be welcome?
“Whoa… so that’s an A-rank. Even sealed, it’s terrifying.”
“We’re only looking from a distance. Our work is over here.”
Outside the control line, observation devices stood scattered along the ridge—old posts with instrument panels, like unmanned guard posts.
The job itself was nothing special.
Jihyun read the checklist and called out numbers; Nayeon hauled the parts box.
I just picked up a few small tools from the side and handed them over.
Incidentally, I was pretty useful.
Maybe because I’d done military service, I knew my way around tools and ended up being more help than Nayeon.
“Byeori, could you grab the monkey wrench? It looks like—”
“Here.”
“Huh…? Oh, yeah… Thanks…?”
Just like that!
The problem was…
“…Ugh.”
My body.
Every time the crack entered my field of view, a sharp twinge ran across my chest.
Below the collarbone, about a palm’s width down—the spot where a thin white line had been visible in the mirror on my first day as a human.
Back then it hadn’t stirred anything.
Oh, so the break left a mark on the body.
It hadn’t really hurt, so I’d forgotten about it.
But now that scar…
was throbbing.
“Aahng.”
Hey, why now after being quiet all this time!
Without thinking, I pressed down on the spot over my clothes.
“Byeori?”
It was Nayeon.
Still holding the parts box, she was staring straight at me.
“Are you hurt somewhere? You’ve been touching your chest this whole time.”
“…No. It doesn’t hurt.”
“Then why is your face so pale? Are you still carsick—”
“I’m not carsick.”
“But your color’s terrible. Huh?”
…Whatever.
This body couldn’t hide anything anyway.
Everything showed on my face, so what was the point of keeping my mouth shut?
I looked toward the crack.
And just said it.
“I actually broke here.”
““……””
A long, thin beep from some measuring device rang out on its own and then stopped.
The parts box in Nayeon’s hands slowly tilted until it touched the ground.
“…What did you say?”
“Last year. I was snapped in half inside that crack. Then I was abandoned. This is the place.”
I spoke calmly, looking up at the crack.
It wasn’t an act—I really was calm.
It was all in the past, just a simple fact.
But the two of them didn’t look calm at all.
Nayeon strode straight over.
She crouched down to meet my eye level.
“You… knew? You knew we were coming here?”
“Yes. I saw it on the request form.”
“Then why didn’t you say anything!”
“If I did, you’d cancel the job. What about rent?”
“Rent is the problem right now?! That’s—”
Nayeon shouted, then bit her lip hard.
She turned her head this way and that, then suddenly stood and pointed accusingly at an innocent observation device.
“Ah, seriously! What is the Association thinking, subcontracting without even writing down the location?! Not that they’d know! Then who am I supposed to be mad at!”
“…Senior, don’t hit the equipment. We have to pay for it if it breaks.”
She was flailing at empty air because she had nowhere to direct her anger.
I’d seen that scene somewhere before—oh, it was me.
The me from a few days ago, thumping the water dispenser because I had nowhere to vent.
While Nayeon fumed, Jihyun stayed quiet.
Instead, she had somehow moved right beside me, subtly positioning her body to block the crack from view.
She was trying to be discreet.
But it was painfully obvious.
“Byeori.”
“Yes.”
“Are you okay?”
“Of course. I’m fine.”
I shrugged.
“It doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“……”
“It hurt when it broke. Now it’s just… healed.”
I’d said it to reassure them.
But tears finally spilled from Nayeon’s eyes.
Jihyun took off her glasses and looked up at the sky once.
No, I really was fine.
I really, really didn’t feel anything!
“Huuuee— Byeoriieee—”
“W-wait, Owner… I can’t breathe… Huek…”
She hugged me tight.
A hug that smelled like boiled eggs.
After a long moment, Nayeon cupped my face in both hands and looked straight at me.
“Byeori. Look at big sis. If you’re just pretending to be okay, I’m really going to be hurt. Don’t hide it—tell me, okay?”
“…I’m really fine, Owner.”
“Yeah. But I’m not.”
What kind of stubbornness was that?
Still…
“……”
Honestly, that stubbornness… didn’t feel bad.
A year ago, I’d been snapped in half right here.
In the end, no one had taken me in, and with a single word—“discard”—I’d been thrown away.
Discard.
I still remembered that one word, didn’t I?
Yet the funny thing was… the face of the person who’d said it was already fading.
That just meant they hadn’t mattered much.
But now, in the same place, instead of being told to discard me, there were two people grieving for my sake.
I wondered.
If I hadn’t been an ego sword, would they have cried for me like this too…?
Carrying that small curiosity, the work assignment changed.
“You’re on standby by the car today. Drink some water.”
Jihyun’s decision.
They didn’t cancel the job.
There was the penalty, the trust, the rent…
And since I’d strongly objected, we compromised by moving me to the spot farthest from the crack.
“I’m really fine, though…”
“Nope. Sit there quietly and rest before the big sisters get mad.”
So I ended up sitting in the shade beside the car, quietly sipping water.
…At this rate, it really did feel like a picnic.
From afar, Nayeon glanced back at me every five minutes.
When I waved, she’d finally relax and go back to work, only to look again five minutes later.
By the fourth time, I just waved first at the right moment.
“Ehyo.”
When the fifth time came—
“…Huh?”
I noticed something new.
The throbbing in my chest changed depending on the distance.
It faded when I moved farther away.
It had been strongest when I stood near the control line earlier.
What was this?
Why was it happening?
I searched my memories from a year ago, but found no answer.
What I’d cut inside there, how I’d been shattered…
The pain of breaking had erased the details.
And one more thing.
The energy leaking from that crack.
That sealed, supposedly dead energy… didn’t feel unfamiliar.
It wasn’t frightening or ominous.
More like…
familiar.
The same as my blade—
“……”
Without realizing it, I let a small voice slip toward the crack.
“What are you? Why do you smell like me?”
The crack gave no answer.
Of course it didn’t.
If talking to rocks or empty air got a response, that would make me the crazy one.
“Hmm. Then what exactly—”
Just as I was about to continue, Jihyun’s voice came from the observation equipment.
“…Huh? What’s wrong with this? Why are the readings spiking? Is it broken?”
I stopped mid-sentence and pressed my lips shut.
It had to be my imagination.
It needed to be my imagination.
Clutching the water bottle, I quietly sat back down in the shade.
The white line on my chest pulsed in time with my heartbeat.
***
That night, the A-7 observation log transmitted to the Association’s control center.
One reading at 3:17 p.m. had spiked sharply without explanation.
It was the exact moment when the youngest of the subcontract workers had approached closest to the control line.