Baek Sajin

Tap, tap.

When I rapped my knuckles against the partition, Yoo Hana lifted her head.

"Yul-ssi?"

On her monitor was the exploration report for the Late Night 24-Hour Convenience Store. Beside timestamps, she had jotted down every single action she took, cross-referencing the manual in another window every few lines.

"Working on your report?"

"Yes. I keep checking to make sure I didn't miss anything, but it's taking forever…" She sheepishly leaned over, shielding the screen with one hand.

I pulled over an empty swivel chair from the next cubicle and sat down.

"Would you be interested in entering an anomaly with me?"

"Right now?"

"No. It's a special public contest. There's still one slot left."

I laid out the basics: a group-type anomaly with an estimated rank of E+, and because of a severe lack of data, there would be a lot we'd have to verify firsthand once inside. With every detail, Hana's shoulders curled inward just a bit more.

Then I told her the base hazard pay.

Her hand dropped away from the monitor.

"…Twenty-five million won?"

"Yeah. That's the only reason I'm considering it myself."

She had mentioned having reasons to need money. Her lips parted, wavering, before she glanced back at her report.

"I mean… I do want to go. But I was the very last person to make it out of the convenience store. If I end up holding everyone back…"

"Did you take that long because you broke a rule?"

"No. Just… double-checking. I went over everything several times to be safe."

I glanced at the dense timeline on her screen. Even setting aside the fact that it was her first solo field assignment, it was a remarkably meticulous log.

"Having someone I've already worked with makes things easier for me, too. You handled yourself well during orientation."

"That was only because you guided me through it, Yul-ssi…"

"Plenty of people wouldn't have listened even if they were told."

A faint smile touched her lips. I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice.

"If things turn dangerous… I promise I'll keep you safe. So let's go together."

"…Really?"

"Of course."

She thought it over for a long moment, then gave a firm nod.

"I trust you. Please… let me come with you!"

"Great. Though, it's not entirely set in stone yet. The team leader still has to vet the roster."

"The team leader?" Hana blinked.

"Yeah. Baek Sajin is leading the team."

At that name, Hana's freshly straightened shoulders instantly shrank back down.

It didn't take long for Baek Sajin to show up at our office.

Flowing, jet-black hair fell over a white frilled blouse, her waist tightly cinched by a black corset belt. A tablet was tucked into one hand. After offering Seungjun-sunbae a curt nod of greeting, she marched straight toward my desk where he pointed.

"Jeon Yul-ssi?"

"Yes."

"I heard you're joining. Seungjun-sunbae said you had something to discuss regarding the team composition."

Standing right beside me, Hana clasped her hands tightly together. I gestured toward her.

"For the remaining open slot, I'd like to recommend Yoo Hana-ssi."

Baek Sajin's gaze flicked to Hana, then snapped back to me.

"I intended to review the applicant pool before filling that spot."

"Which is why I'm speaking to you before you make that decision."

"The Planning Department only drafted you, Jeon Yul-ssi. You weren't issued a plus-one ticket."

Crisp, sharp, and uncompromising. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Seungjun-sunbae had already swiveled his chair away, intently studying his monitor. So this is what he meant by telling me to handle it myself.

"I'm aware," I replied evenly. "That's why I'm asking."

"Give me a reason to take Yoo Hana-ssi."

"We operated together during orientation. I know how she acts in a crisis. Building synergy with her will be far easier than with a complete stranger."

Baek Sajin tapped her tablet screen a couple of times.

"Her clear time for the convenience store is on the longer side."

Hana's fingers flinched. I pressed forward without missing a beat.

"I know her reaction speed is a bit deliberate. But her composure and adherence to protocol are exceptional."

"In the field, every second counts."

"True. But rushing blindly gets people killed just as fast."

Baek Sajin's eyes narrowed. Perhaps that sounded like talking back.

"Frankly, I'd rather not dive into a hazard surrounded entirely by strangers either," I added smoothly. "Having at least one familiar colleague by my side matters. If the final slot is already promised to someone else, though, there's nothing I can do."

"……."

Instead of answering, Baek Sajin stared down at her tablet.

I held my tongue. Painting Hana as some irreplaceable genius would only backfire if Sajin decided to scrutinize her further.

After a brief silence, she turned to Hana.

"Yoo Hana-ssi. Do you personally want to participate?"

"Yes."

"You understand our intelligence on this site is severely lacking?"

"I heard… that we'll have to verify everything ourselves inside…" Hana glanced at me, then looked straight back into Baek Sajin's eyes. "Even so, I want to take the challenge!"

Flushed red to the ears, Hana practically shouted her resolve. Baek Sajin studied her face for a beat before her gaze drifted toward the nearby monitor.

"Is that your convenience store report you're drafting?"

"Ah, yes. I haven't quite finished organizing it yet…"

"May I take a look?"

Hana hurriedly grabbed her mouse to scroll up. Baek Sajin scanned the open document, cross-referencing one of the recorded timestamps against the operational manual.

"Why didn't you enter the storage room immediately at this hour?"

"There was still a customer inside the store. I was tempted to start tidying up first, but the storage room protocol stated I had to wait until everyone left."

Baek Sajin's slender fingers danced across her tablet.

"Submit your application. I'll finalize the roster and forward it to Planning."

"…Pardon?"

"I said you're coming."

Hana's eyes went wide. Internally, I let out a long, quiet sigh of relief.

It worked.

"Thank you," I said.

Baek Sajin turned back to me, her expression deadpan.

"However, all final tactical calls on-site belong to me. That includes you, Jeon Yul-ssi. No exceptions."

"I assume offering opinions is still permitted?"

"Speak up whenever you want. Just don't go acting on your own."

That was more than fair. At least she wasn't the stubborn sort who'd bulldoze forward without listening to reason.

I gave a nod. "Understood."

Hana quickly pulled up the internal portal and clicked the apply button. A second later, a soft chime rang from Baek Sajin's tablet.

"…Approved."

Hana couldn't take her eyes off the screen. I peered at the roster as well. Underneath Baek Sajin's name were several other batchmates, with my name and Yoo Hana's resting side by side at the very bottom.

Baek Sajin tucked the tablet back under her arm.

"A briefing notice will go out shortly. Check your gear and stand by."

"Understood. See you then."

She turned on her heel to leave, then paused.

"Jeon Yul-ssi."

"Yes?"

"Was it really four hours?"

I blinked at the out-of-the-blue question. "Was what?"

"Heart-Throbbing Summer File."

Ah. That.

"Exactly as written in the report."

Baek Sajin stared at me for a beat. The look in her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠eyes was slightly different from the cold scrutiny she had leveled at Hana moments ago.

"…I see."

Without pressing any further, she walked out of the office.

If you were that curious, why didn't you just ask earlier?

Right on cue following the roster confirmation, our corporate messenger pinged.

"Two o'clock," Hana murmured, checking the time. We still had plenty of breathing room.

"Finish up your report. We'll head down together when it's time."

I checked my company terminal; having settled the essence payout from before, the internal reservoir was currently empty. I tested the clasp on my Arcana pin, pressing down firmly to ensure it was securely latched.

While I was double-checking my kit, Seungjun-sunbae swiveled his chair back around.

"Work out?"

"Yes. She agreed to take Hana-ssi."

"Nice talk. I hear she's a real pain when picking team members."

"She didn't seem that bad to me."

Sunbae looked at my expression and chuckled knowingly. Clearing my throat, I pulled open my desk drawer. Babbled any louder and Hana might overhear.

At 1:55 PM, Hana and I arrived at Conference Room 3 on the twelfth floor.

A male recruit who had arrived ahead of us paused while pulling out a chair and glanced up. It was a face I recognized from orientation—one of the guys who had hovered around Baek Sajin.

"Oh, you're Jeon Yul-ssi, right? Heard Planning personally drafted you."

"Yes."

His eyes shifted to the woman beside me.

"Is she coming too?"

"Yes. I'm… joining as well."

The guy pulled out his terminal, brought up the roster, and flicked his eyes back and forth between the screen and Hana.

"Wait, you're the one who set the record for the slowest convenience store clear?"

"…Yes."

"Man, that's rough. Looks like one dead weight is about to drag the rest of us down."

The sneer was blatant. Hana's hands tightened around her bag straps. I took a half-step forward, closing the space between us.

"Baek Sajin-ssi personally approved the roster."

"That's her business. I'm asking about Hana-ssi's resolve. Can you even pull your own weight?"

Before the tension could flare further, the click of heels echoed from the corridor.

Baek Sajin was striding down the hall, tablet tucked firmly under her arm, flanked by two other recruits. One of them spotted Hana, then shot an exasperated glare at our charming conversationalist.

"Choi Minwoo, what are you doing blocking the door? Get inside."

Minwoo quickly backed away, sliding into a seat around the table.

Baek Sajin set her tablet beside the head of the conference table and plugged in the power cable. When Choi Minwoo reached for the chair right next to her, she pointed across the room.

"Leave that open. I need space for materials."

"Ah, right. Sure."

Hana and I took two adjacent seats near the door. Even after settling into a spot opposite us, Choi Minwoo kept shooting glances our way.

Once the screen mirrored successfully, Baek Sajin addressed the room.

"I'm the designated operational commander for this assignment. I expect everyone to follow my orders without question."

The recruits retrieved their terminals. I slipped mine from my pocket and set it flat on the mahogany surface.

Right on the hour, the door clicked open. A middle-aged man wearing square, rimless glasses walked in.

Field Exploration Planning Department — Deputy General Manager Kwon Hyukdo.

Baek Sajin immediately stood to salute. The rest of us rose in tandem, sitting back down only after he waved a dismissive hand.

"Everyone's here."

He scanned the roster sheet, his eyes halting when he reached my name.

"Are you Jeon Yul?"

"Yes, sir."

"I reviewed your report. You left quite an impressive record."

"Thank you, sir."

I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hadn't expected a department executive to call me out by name.

"Whether that result was pure luck or genuine competence is worth observing firsthand." Deputy General Manager Kwon set down the clipboard. "This time it's a team operation. Operating in a group is fundamentally different from surviving on your own. Keep that in mind when you deploy."

"Understood!" the room chorused.

I couldn't tell if that was encouragement or a veiled warning. How many times had my name circulated behind closed doors while I was busy sleeping off my first assignment?

Kwon clicked the remote for the overhead projector.

On the screen appeared a massive supermarket completely smothered in creeping vines and dark moss. The surrounding area was nothing but crumbling concrete slabs and rusted-out car frames, yet the supermarket's glowing neon storefront sign remained pristinely intact.

"A facility-erosion anomaly that manifested recently in the outer suburban zone," Kwon explained. "The thematic setting is a supermarket operating completely normally in the midst of a ruined, post-apocalyptic world. Anomalous entities disguised as staff and shoppers reside within."

That looks normal to you? I thought, staring at the moss-choked facade.

Kwon advanced to the next slide. It showed a photograph of an internal document, but wherever text should have been, the paper was covered in pitch-black, smeared smudges.

"This is why we classified this assignment as lacking sufficient intelligence. Any written rules retrieved from the interior become illegible the moment they cross the perimeter. The same applies to photographs."

Baek Sajin raised her hand. "What about audio logs from the recon team?"

"They all corroborate finding a survivor's letter and a rough floor plan near the entrance. However, when we cross-referenced their recollections, their accounts conflicted wildly. It appears memory contamination occurs as well." Kwon tapped the black smudge on the slide. "We cannot verify the specific phrasing. Once inside, you will have to read the wall notices and shopping cart placards with your own eyes. And look for that letter."

Knowing rules existed was entirely different from being able to follow them. Looking at that smeared photograph, I understood why the company had posted this as a high-bounty public contest rather than a standard assignment. This wasn't routine exploration—it was practically pioneering uncharted territory.

"Is there any information on target artifacts for recovery?" Baek Sajin inquired.

"Current intel on internal relics is classified. I cannot disclose details. However, any transportable relics secured during the operation will be credited toward recovery bounties."

An artifact so ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠important they couldn't even brief the field team about it? If it was that valuable, why didn't the executives go fetch it themselves?

I spun my terminal between my fingers. Well, grunts like me didn't need to lose sleep over corporate politics. Base pay upon survival, bonus pay if we hauled something shiny out. Whether to get greedy was a call I could make once my boots were on the ground.

"The roster stands as confirmed. Follow your commander's orders in the field. Any objections?"

Kwon looked across the table. No one ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠spoke up.

Satisfied, he gave a curt nod. "Departure is tomorrow at nine sharp. Assemble in the First Floor Special Exploration Lobby ten minutes prior."

As soon as he exited the room, the recruits began packing up their gear.

While Hana slipped her notepad into her bag, Choi Minwoo leaned toward his neighbor, muttering under his breath, "She took that long in a convenience store where the rules were spelled out. What's she going to do in a place where we don't even know the rules?"

Hana's hands froze on the zipper.

The recruit beside Minwoo glanced at her, quickly looking away when their eyes met, but he didn't contradict the jab.

"We're not going to have time to hold her hand while she double-checks every little thing."

"Choi Minwoo."

Baek Sajin was coiling her tablet charger cable. Her dark eyes bored into him.

"If you have a problem with the roster, voice it right now."

"No, I was just… worried, that's all."

"Then worry about your own gear first. Make sure you don't leave anything behind tomorrow."

Minwoo clamped his mouth shut. Baek Sajin slipped the coiled cable into her leather satchel and was the first to walk out the door.

I turned to Hana. "Got everything packed?"

"…Yes."

She pulled the zipper shut, then unzipped it again just to verify the notepad was truly inside.

"Because of me, Yul-ssi, you're getting dragged into…"

"We haven't even stepped out the front door yet," I said with a light shrug. "Let's just go in and do our jobs well."

Hana's eyes brimmed with moisture.

"Get a solid night's sleep," I added, pushing my chair back under the conference table.

Sniffling softly, she whispered, "Let's do our best," and hurried out toward the elevators.

Stepping into the empty corridor, I rolled up my left sleeve. Beneath the cuff, the crimson chain etched into the pale skin of my inner wrist was pulsing with a faint, blood-red luminescence.

…Guess I'd better figure out what to do about this first.