Don't Suppress Individual Thought!
Don't suppress individual thought!
There are two kinds of people in this world.
First: the ones who clean up trash the moment it appears.
Second: the ones who put it off and put it off until the maggots show up, and only then throw it out.
Basement 4th Floor, it seemed, was home to an entity of the second variety.
"…What even is all this. Ugh."
No, seriously—what was this?
Was this the final resting place of every ingredient that never got used?
The one mercy was that nothing reeked of rot, and there were no bugs. Given the nature of the basement, bugs other than the hole-worms were hard to come by anyway.
Thud-thud-thud!
"Aagh!?"
She'd been standing there, blank-faced at the absurdity of the scene, when fresh vegetables and cuts of meat came cascading down from a hole in the ceiling.
Was this for real?
Food had genuinely just rained from the sky.
"Hmm. So… what was I even doing on Basement 4th Floor again?"
A frontal-lobe error, triggered by one shock after another. She'd completely forgotten why she'd come down here in the first place!
Find the Chef's body on Basement 4th Floor.
🎁 Reward: 3 days of vacation
🎁 Reward: 1 geun of Ritual Meat
Ahh, right, right.
She'd come for the vacation.
Find the Chef's body, pocket three days off. A quest this sweet was not something you just walked past.
"Hellooo~ Anybody home~? Is anyone there? Hey, you!"
Basement 4th Floor had the feel of an enormous kitchen. Everything was huge. The cauldrons were huge, the pots were huge, the woks were huge—like the whole place had been built for a three-meter giant.
"—Hey! You there! Who are you! An intruder!?"
Ahh. So the entity of Basement 4th Floor had been in the pantry. No wonder she hadn't found anyone after wandering around forever.
"Hello! I'm the Manager… wait, huh…"
"What? The Manager? Is that true! Hahaha! I'd love to greet you properly, but all I've got left is my head, so I can't even bow right. Sorry about that. Ugly sight, I know."
Chef, sir.
How had only the neck made it…
So "find the body" had been literal. Find. The. Body.
A head-only Chef, sitting in a pantry of spoiled goods. He rocked his head back and forth as he made his plea.
"Manager. Would you find my body for me? My back itches. I don't have a back!"
"…Uh. Well. Uh."
"How'd I end up like this, you ask? Long story, but the short version is the meat slicer decided I was meat. Still ridiculous when I think about it."
"How long have you been like this?"
"First day I got here. Been rolling around as a head ever since. Thanks to that, the rations that were supposed to go out across the whole Tower have completely stopped."
"…Excuse me?"
That explained it! The ingredients just piled up and left to rot. No body meant no cooking, so the materials just kept stacking!
Under normal circumstances, food would be prepared in the Basement 4th Floor kitchen and distributed throughout the entire Tower.
"If I start cooking again, a few of the Tower's locked functions might unlock. So please. Find my body for me."
"Of course. I'll find it."
Obviously she was going to find the body. That was how you got the vacation.
But this guy's head was the size of her entire torso. How big was the body, then? Could she even move it alone?
Ah. Right. That. I can use that.
The Employee Register Kkingkkingi had given her!
With that, she could borrow the strength of the basement's employees.
"Just hang on a second. I'll have your body back in no time!"
"Thank you! I'll be counting on you, Manager!"
Alright. Time to work.
A Manager's job, after all, was putting the right people in the right places. No reason for the Manager to do the legwork herself.
"Alright, everyone~ Support duty time~"
Everyone currently out on assignment beyond the Tower was excused. The rest of you, report to the Basement 4th Floor kitchen.
Can't move between floors? It's fine—I've got the Employee Register.
And this is absolutely not me dumping the grunt work on you.
Similar incidents were unfolding across the entire country.
A string of disappearances among illegally residing hunters. In plain terms: a cleanup was underway.
"Director. It seems… the cleaning has already begun."
"…They said they'd give us a day. Why… why before a single day has even passed…"
Director Park Seongho clutched his head and squeezed his eyes shut at his secretary's report. Cold sweat poured down his face. He could vanish the same way Choi Taesung had.
"Ah—Director. They're calling an emergency meeting."
"What? An emergency meeting?"
"Yes. It would appear…"
High-ranking bureaucrats and politicians gathered at the Korean Tower Management Bureau. Every last one of them was a pig blinded by self-interest—and those blinded by greed had walked straight into the trap.
"Director Park! What the hell are you doing! Arrest the basement Manager already—do something!"
"Exactly. We can't keep tolerating that person's reckless behavior! You need to seize control of this situation!"
"Foreign press is condemning Korea. The stock market's in freefall. Foreign tourism is dropping fast. This is bad long-term. That basement Manager, or whatever they are, needs to come out and apologize to the public."
"The hunter community won't shut up either. They're saying this is spreading fear, and the complaints are endless. At this rate, Korea will be treated as public enemy number one inside the Tower. Can you handle the fallout? Well?"
"You know who the basement Manager is, don't you, Director Park? Hand over the information. Arrest them. Threaten their family. Drag them up to the surface somehow."
"If you keep letting this slide, you won't come out of it clean either. Consider this a warning."
Director Park Seongho studied the faces of the pigs yammering at him.
The one on China's payroll. The one with American connections. The one whose illegal slush-fund laundry had just vanished. The one who'd been angling for a big score in drug trafficking.
People. People. People.
Filthy people. Worse than pigs.
"So what exactly do you want me to do? What the hell am I supposed to do!!! March down to the basement and demand to know why they killed a bunch of criminals? You insane pig bastards. If you want to pick a fight, go pick it yourselves. Don't come in here and throw a tantrum at me!!!"
The words poured out of Director Park Seongho's mouth unfiltered. Stress had stretched the last thread of his reason until it simply snapped, and whatever came to mind came straight out.
"W-what did you just—"
"Has this man lost his mind? Have you lost your mind!? You get the Director's title and suddenly you talk however you want? Huh! Do you even know whose help put you in that chair?"
"We grab some idiot, slap a hat on him, and he doesn't even know his place—spouting that kind of garbage!"
"Hey. Everyone calm down. Look, Director Park. No need for us to get red in the face over this, alright? I hear that basement Manager's name is Ji Cheonwoo. Is that right or not? Just tell us that much."
Ji Cheonwoo's name had been spoken out loud.
Director Park Seongho exhaled a long breath. Whatever answer he gave, he was dead either way. He was halfway to deciding to just give up and jump when—
Click.
The lights in the conference room went out.
"Huh? What is this. What's going on."
"Power outage?"
"What are you doing. Turn the lights back on. What the hell is this."
The pigs still hadn't grasped the situation. But the moment the lights died without the slightest warning, Park Seongho began to shake.
"Ah… aah…"
Clack-clack-clack-clack-clack.
The sound of teeth chattering against teeth. Director Park Seongho stared at the humans thrashing in the dark, drowning in panic.
No. Not yet. I haven't resigned yet. Please… God.
He was so terrified he found himself calling on a god he'd never once sought in his life—and he already knew what was about to happen in this room.
Just as Director Park Seongho was about to sink hopelessly to the floor, someone stepped up behind him and caught him before he could fall.
"…Nngh…"
A hand that carried irresistible strength. Skin white as chalk. Eyes a vivid, burning red. And a wide-brimmed hat.
The small woman grew taller and taller—stopping only once she'd reached nearly two meters.
"Aah…"
Director Park Seongho shook his head. He wanted to beg for his life, but even those words wouldn't come. He could only shake his head, pleading with his eyes that he was not like the others.
[I know.]
The woman with corpse-pale skin sat Park Seongho in a chair, then pressed down on his shoulders and covered his mouth so he wouldn't dare shout or move.
[Did you catch one?]
[Yeah. This one's useful.]
[And those?]
[Trash that needs cleaning. Waste that doesn't belong in the young lady's homeland.]
Park Seongho flinched at the newly arrived presence.
A long-haired woman in a coat the color of fresh blood. A red mask, and eyes redder still. The monstrous woman advanced slowly toward the pigs.
"Why won't this door open!"
"Hey! There's nobody outside! We're locked in!"
"No internet either. Why am I getting 'out of service area' in here? What's going on! Director Park! What is this!"
They still didn't know. They still had no idea what was coming up behind them.
"Hic…"
Only Director Park Seongho understood. This was no longer a conference room. This was a slaughterhouse built to pen and butcher pigs.
He wanted to turn his head, to look away from what was about to happen—but even that was not permitted. Director Park Seongho was forced to keep both eyes wide open and watch every last thing unfold before him.
"Uh. Uhh. Uh… Kyaaaaaaaah—!!!!"
"W-what! What's happening!"
"Park Seongho, you son of a bitch! What did you do to uuuus!?"
The pigs shrieked like animals having their throats cut. One by one, they were seized by the hands of the woman holding the scissors—and vanished.
Park Seongho saw it clearly. The way a mouth could open wide enough to swallow a person whole.
"Hiiiik… Y-yes, yes! Y-you didn't eat them…!"
[…Tch.]
Once every pig in the conference room had been cleaned out, the two monstrous women looked down at Park Seongho and stood before him.
"Hnnngh…!"
[We have something important to discuss with you.]
[Pull yourself together and answer.]
"P-p-p-please. Hnng… g-go ahead…"
The towering specter snatched paper and pen from the conference table.
"I-I understand! I understand perfectly!"
Rrrriiiip.
"Hnh. Hnaah. Hnnaaah…"
A vast mouth. A deep darkness.
The claim that they hadn't eaten anyone was true. Being swallowed by them didn't send you to a stomach. It dropped you somewhere deeper, and far more terrifying.
"I-I'll keep that in mind. I'll keep it very much in mind…"
[Good. Continue to revere the Manager without limit.]
[Yes. You all survived only by Her whim.]
"…Nngh…"
In truth, Cheonwoo had never ordered them to go this far. They were simply acting of their own accord—for their Manager's sake.
[And you.]
"Y-yes…"
[This country is the Manager's homeland. We will not allow this land to be soiled.]
"W-what should I do?"
[We'll handle the cleaning. You do something else.]
[Stop the trash from flowing in as they please. Understood?]
"…M-me? I-I'm not even a climber… I-I just got stuck with the Director's seat because of seniority…"
[This bastard still doesn't get it? Want me to tear your mouth open?]
"I-I'll do it!"
Park Seongho had planned to resign today. The two entities had just shredded his post-retirement farming fantasy right in front of his eyes.
Lifetime employment: confirmed.
Park Seongho felt rather like he'd become Hwang Hui—the legendary civil servant who never got to retire.
[And the Manager does not wish to draw attention.]
[From now on, we will convey Her will. You will simply receive it.]
[Answer.]
"Yes. Yes yes…!"
And so, in that very room, a new set of climber conduct ordinances was decided.
Was the Chef actually a giant!?
This body was ridiculously heavy.
She'd called in every employee from Basement 1st Floor through Basement 3rd Floor to move the thing, and it was still killing them. If she'd tried this alone, there was zero chance of success.
"I-I can't do any more. This isn't Manager work—this is straight-up manual labor…"
Maybe take a little breather?
If she slipped away quietly, nobody would even notice…
"Manager! Where are you!"
"Cheonwoo, where are you…!"
"Manager…! Y-you're not… slacking off, are you…? Right…?"
No no no no no!!!
She was done. She couldn't take it anymore.
Time to hide in the break room and scroll the forums.
"What the hell is wrong with these people?"
Title: Long Live the Basement Manager!
Author: ScallionAperture
Manager! Thank you so much!
Thanks to you, Korea has become a better place to live!
I just really wanted to express my gratitude!
Long live the Basement Manager! I respect you!
Sudden praise?
What was with this forced-looking post.
And it wasn't just one or two of them?
"No, seriously… what is this. I'm scared."
There had always been a few people like this, sure. But never an organized bootlicking campaign.
Right—the organized part was what made it terrifying!
Had the whole country been hypnotized?
Had some nationwide directive gone out ordering everyone to praise her?
Nah. No way.
In a twenty-first-century democracy, there was no way anyone would suppress individual thought~ Surely not~
Title: Have Koreans Collectively Lost It?
Author: LatinViper
Why the sudden mass seizure?
You're getting economic retaliation because of that basement Manager bastard.
Money is disappearing, you get that?
The exchange rate is completely wrecked and you're out here praising them?
Did the tariff bomb finally fry your brains?
No, this is genuinely weird…
What on earth was going on outside the Tower?