Zero Fatalities, Dignity Sold Separately

A vast conference room.

A middle-aged man pressed his fingers to his temple as he stared down at the report lying on the desk.

The first page was dominated by bold lettering:

The field report had put the man in a genuinely difficult position.

Even with all the intelligence he possessed, this was the first time he had ever heard of a rule like this.

He eyed the two agents before him with suspicion.

They had both made it out alive. On its face, that was a relief.

But the Director leaned forward in his chair and spoke.

"Agent Kang. Is this report accurate?"

"It's accurate. There's nothing false in it."

"······."

At Senior Agent Kang Taeshik's words, the Director fell silent.

No — the entire conference room, with dozens of people in it, went so quiet you could have heard a breath.

Then a curious female agent flipped through the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠report and asked.

"You actually performed the condition?"

"···Yes."

"Both of you?"

"Yes."

Silence settled over the room once more.

Every agent in the vicinity ducked their heads or turned away, avoiding eye contact.

Because they already knew how it ended, they couldn't bear to look at the two of them.

The Director rubbed the bridge of his nose and pressed on.

"What about mental contamination?"

"No anomalies. They're clean."

"Ahem···. Any physical issues?"

"···If there are none, then there are none."

At that, an analyst spoke up carefully.

"What does that mean, exactly?"

"W-well, Probationary Agent Han Doyoon's rear end is a little···."

"Ah···."

A groan rippled through the room at the analyst's muttered remark.

Han Doyoon went scarlet, looking ready to bolt from the room at any moment.

Unfortunately, however, running truly wasn't an option.

Han Doyoon was forced to sit through the torture that was this meeting.

"This is abnormal. Strange···. Did we fail to detect something?"

"No, sir. Nothing at all."

"Your typical anomalous entity kills its captives, shatters their minds, or at the very least mutates their bodies. That's the standard pattern."

The analyst spoke as though the whole thing fascinated him.

"But Alpha didn't do any of that. Instead, it made human dignity the price of admission."

"No, we don't know that yet. Don't jump to conclusions on fragmentary information. Bad intelligence could cost us dozens of agents."

Everyone nodded at the Director's words.

There wasn't a person in this room without experience.

This was the National Anomaly Response Service.

Known informally as the Anomaly Service.

A national agency dedicated to the management and neutralization of anomalous phenomena. Only the elite of the elite — those with hardened field records among them — were permitted to attend meetings on new anomalous entities.

Even Han Doyoon, a probationary agent, would never have been admitted to this meeting if he hadn't been directly involved.

The Director was silent for a moment, then turned to the analyst.

"Is Alpha human?"

"Unknown."

"Can it understand human emotion?"

"As of now, it appears to."

"Then why would it impose a condition like — like fucking?"

"···."

"Is it mocking us?"

"A strong possibility."

At their exchange, another analyst raised a hand.

"I disagree. If it meant to mock us, there would be no reason to grant rewards."

The analyst flipped the report over as he answered.

There, the abilities acquired by the senior and junior agents were recorded.

Several analysts nodded, agreeing with his assessment.

The Director, apparently finding the argument reasonable, demanded details.

"Meaning?"

"It's in the process of understanding humanity — or possibly running experiments on us."

"To what end? What does Alpha want from us?"

"No idea."

"Haah···. What a fucked-up anomaly."

The Director spat out a curse at the analyst's answer.

Information on the new anomalous entity, Alpha, was far too thin.

Which meant they would have to send in new agents.

"Where is it?"

"We've located it."

"Tracking status?"

"Maintaining continuous pursuit."

An agent pulled up Alpha's tracking data on the screen.

"Is it running?"

"No. It appears to be··· scouting for new captives."

Everyone nodded at the analyst's words.

That was simply the nature of anomalous entities.

Beings that torment humanity without end.

The Director gathered all the information before him, looked around at the veterans in the room, and asked.

"Who will make contact?"

In that instant —

Even the iron-willed agent who made a habit of declaring himself humanity's bulwark against anomalies turned his head, his face drained white.

"What if there's only one person? One, and the rules might change."

"If someone goes in alone···."

"It's something we absolutely have to verify."

Everyone nodded at the sound logic.

The Director's eyes gleamed — and from a corner of the room, a hand went up.

"I'll go."

"You?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

The Director asked back, startled. The man simply shrugged.

"I'm curious, that's all."

"About what?"

"About what that freak actually wants."

Then he turned to the female agent beside him and grinned.

"Care to come with?"

"Is that your grand purpose? Get lost. I'd rather die than go anywhere with you."

The rejection was instant.

But the young man refused to bend.

"That's a devastating wound you've given me···."

"Cut the crap. Go alone."

"Feisty, aren't we."

The man rose from his seat without a care in the world and said,

"Fine, alone it is. What choice do I have?"

"Will you really be all right?"

At the Director's words, the man nodded.

"We need the intel, don't we?"

"It could be dangerous."

"Eh. It's not like I'm going to die."

The man waved a hand a few times and sauntered out.

With that, the meeting came to an end.

Some time later, when the conference room had emptied completely, an analyst who was drafting the minutes approached the two people at the center of it all.

"Did you really··· do it, inside the room?"

"···Yes."

"O-okay. Understood."

"We did what we had to do to survive."

"···I see."

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I'm not."

"You're clearly···."

"Didn't I just tell you I wasn't?"

"Then why are you keeping your distance?"

"···Quarantine protocol. Who knows what anomalous microorganisms might be clinging to you, Agent Kang."

The analyst's sneer left Kang Taeshik speechless.

He had already been through sterilization and a full mental assessment. There was no way the analyst didn't know that.

It was too much, and Kang Taeshik felt genuinely wronged.

But then the junior agent — the other victim — chimed in.

"Senior."

"What now···."

"I'll be keeping my distance from you too."

"···I have to ask. What's the reason this time?"

"Quarantine protocol."

With that, the junior agent backed away three steps.

Kang Taeshik could only stand there with a blank expression, silent.

Even while running for my life, I was a little giddy.

Some unidentified organization was tailing me.

Like a spy, I slipped through blind spots, shaking off their pursuit.

Thrills like this weren't something a modern person got to experience often. It felt like being the lead in an action drama.

Three full hours passed without a single one of my pursuers showing up.

Apparently, I'd shaken them off completely. I was almost impressed with my own stealth skills.

Convinced my surroundings were safe, I decided to check out my ability.

Teleportation — and the power sleeping inside my body.

The ability to set rules and conjure rooms out of thin air.

"What even is this?"

I stared at the notification window.

As if it knew exactly how my brain wanted the information laid out, the notification window presented a tidy little UI.

Overthinking it would just give me a headache.

Teleportation cheats are supposed to be user-friendly by design. I'd seen it in webtoons.

So, no problem here.

Brushing the worry aside, I tapped through the options one by one. Just as advertised, none of it was complicated — the only catch was that using the ability consumed energy.

I scratched my head.

Earlier, terrified of dying, I'd set those rules on pure instinct.

And the result was —

Sex.

"Ah, dammit. Why did I have to come up with something like that!"

The more I thought about it, the more insane it seemed. From eye-terrorism straight into mental contamination. I never wanted to see anything like that again.

But in a corner of my mind —

What about two women? A man and a woman? That's not exactly porn, is it?

Whoosh whoosh—!

I shook my head furiously, banishing the lust demon.

I had plenty of interest in the sexy stuff, but forcing people who hated each other together was practically assault.

"And I don't want to witness anything vile like that again, either."

I pulled myself together and thought about the future.

"An anomalous entity, huh. What if I just sealed this power away and lived a normal life?"

I was a small-minded coward. I wanted to lounge around without a care, eat well, and do nothing. How about holding down a job and living an ordinary life like everyone else?

But my brain kept rejecting that vision of the future.

I need to gather energy.

I didn't know why, but instinct whispered it to me.

I sighed. Looked like sealing the ability away simply wasn't on the table.

In that case, I'd have to use it actively. And gathering energy seemed to require intense emotion.

But I didn't need to overcomplicate the rules.

"Heh heh heh. I'm not getting caught flat-footed again."

The finest of ingredients was already in the palm of my hand.

I forged a new room and a new rule.

Right on cue, a man in a hazmat suit appeared before my eyes.

"Oh! Anomalous entity spotted! Hello there!"

He raised a hand in friendly greeting as he approached, and before I knew it, I was showing him my palm in return.

"Huh? You've already learned?"

He said it in a voice of genuine surprise.

When someone greets you, you greet them back — it's called manners!

I stared at him in disbelief.

The hazmat man gave a little chuckle, reached into his coat, and drew out a handgun, waving it around.

In that instant, the muzzle from earlier flashed through my mind. The guns pointed at me. Humans who wouldn't even hear me beg for my life.

The terror of death surged up again.

But this time was different.

It wasn't as though I had no way to fight back.

So you people just keep coming after me, huh?

Fine. Let's try being proactive this time.

I smiled and spoke to the hazmat man.

"Hey. Ready to have the ride of your life?"

My opening line startled him — his eyes went wide and his mouth opened to answer.

But I didn't bother listening to a word of his reply.

I simply snapped my fingers.

And the ground beneath the man's feet gave way.

A small room.

An enormous screen.

A luxurious sofa placed at the center.

The man ambled around, surveying his surroundings with perfect composure, and muttered,

"Ooh, popcorn and cola too. This place has taste."

He smirked at the bait dangling in plain sight.

Without hesitation, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he sat down on the sofa.

The moment he did, the screen flickered on with a pop, and a video began to play.

A hazmat suit.

A bed.

And two people screaming in desperation.

The outcome was so obvious it practically announced itself, and the man's face froze solid.

Beneath the screen, a single line had been written:

The man stared blankly at the words and murmured,

"Shit."

"Alpha. You absolute son of a bitch."