Do Not Pity Them

-2nd Floor (2F) Office.

Monitors glowing blue and endless rows of desks. No matter when I visit, this place is just so relentlessly office-like.

"Salaryman, you here?"

"Ah. Administrator. Welcome."

There it was again — Salaryman's face, worn down by fatigue. Which is exactly why I came prepared.

Administrator-brand espresso! I ground the beans myself and pulled it fresh!

Now that's what I call real employee welfare. Your administrator brews your coffee by hand, people!

"Th-this is...!"

"I ground the beans and pulled the shot myself. I can't promise it tastes great, but... I made it thinking of you, Salaryman. What do you think?"

"Ah. Aaah. An espresso brewed by the Administrator's own hands. It is an honor — an honor beyond honors. Forgive me. The tears..."

Deeply moved by the tiny cup of espresso, Salaryman — apparently indifferent to whether it was still hot — downed it in one gulp.

"Ohhh...!"

"Does it taste strange?"

"No, not at all. It's just... right now, I feel as though I've ascended to coffee heaven..."

Salaryman wiped his eyes and nodded, deeply moved. That much of an impact, huh? Well, now I'll have no choice but to brew him coffee more often!

"Truly, I am glad to be alive. With this, I have gained the hope and dreams to face tomorrow — the very fuel to go on. All of it... all of it thanks to you, Administrator."

"Such lavish praise for a little cup of coffee! Hahaha! I'll brew you another next time!"

"I shall wait for that day with bated breath, Administrator."

Great — coffee delivery to Salaryman, complete! I was just about to head off and knock out my next daily quest when Salaryman called me back.

"One moment, Administrator!"

"Yes? What is it?"

"Are you perhaps heading to -5F soon?"

"Huh? How did you know that?"

"You broke through to -4F a while ago, so I surmised it was nearly time to descend to -5F."

Fair point. I've been on vacation, and now really is the right time to head down to the fifth basement floor.

"But why do you ask? Do you have some interest in -5F?"

"Well, you see... if you're going to the -5F Training Center... I was wondering whether I might possibly receive a replacement..."

"I'm sorry — -5F is a training center?"

"Yes. That is my understanding."

The fifth basement floor, a training center. No wonder the system told me to recruit interns — turns out this floor is where employees get trained.

"If you were to assign some of -5F's interns to -2F, my Task Execution Capability would rise, and I could provide you with considerably more conveniences."

"Oooh! Task Execution Capability!"

According to Salaryman's explanation, it's some hidden stat — a rating assigned to each basement floor. The higher it climbs, the more variety of work the floor can handle.

Wait, this place had a hidden mechanic like that all along? This is basically Basement Tycoon!

"-2F's current Task Execution Capability is... bleak. I handle every task alone. If this continues, -2F may well descend into a strike."

"A strike?! Don't tell me you've ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠joined some kind of labor union..."

There are no unions in the basement! A strike?! Unthinkable!

"N-no, Administrator! Not at all! I mean — if I were to collapse. If the being who guards -2F ceases to exist, then that moment is the strike."

"Ahhh..."

So it had nothing to do with his own will. If he broke down from overwork, -2F would simply flood shut. That was the structure of things down here.

Thinking about him working until he dropped unconscious made my heart sink a little.

"I must hold out to the end, after all. I am this floor's manager."

"Oh, dear."

So this was really an earnest plea: please send me a replacement before I collapse. Aaah. Just look at those dead, sunken eyes of a workhorse who's been shouldering every duty alone, with no successor in sight.

Then I have no choice but to bring him one. Listening to employees' grievances and solving them — that's the true work of an administrator, isn't it?

"Just hold on! I'll lighten your workload, Salaryman."

"Truly? Haha... your kind thought alone is more than enough, Administrator."

Right — off to -5F to get Salaryman his successor!

Ah, of course, first I need to drop off those romance novels with the Librarian.

"Librarian? Where are you?"

"Aaah! Administrator! I-I'm over here! Just a moment...!"

A faint, exhausted voice drifted from faaaaaar away. She was buried in a mountain of books, wasn't she?

"Are you alright?"

"Heheh... my apologies, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Administrator. Work has surged lately. You've caught me in an embarrassing state."

Dark circles, darker than ever. Hair completely unkempt, as though she'd given up on grooming entirely. A worker who had abandoned all self-care stood before me.

Wait, you were drowning in work too?! Why is every floor in the basement like this?

Ever ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠since the mad Constellations carried out mass layoffs of staff, the entity in charge of each floor has been dying on its feet.

"Here you go — the books you asked for, Librarian."

"Wow. Romance novels...!"

At the sight of the romance novels, the Librarian's dead eyes sparkled back to life. When someone's happy about a gift, it makes me happy too. Now this is what I call a family-like company.

"I brought the most popular ones, but I didn't know your taste, so I swept up every kind they had."

"Thank you so much, Administrator. Thanks to you, I may finally fulfill one of my oldest wishes."

The literary girl's sentimental tears are delicious. Mmhm. Yes. This. This is the reaction I live for.

"Um, Administrator...?"

"Yes?"

"C-could I... actually read these books?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I probably... will never... get to read them..."

When I asked why, the Librarian gazed wistfully at the enormous mountains of books around her.

Books not yet sorted. An uncountable number of volumes, still multiplying even now. A single sigh, heavy with the burden of one woman who alone had to shoulder an endlessly proliferating library.

I see. So the Librarian wants one too.

"You want an intern, Librarian."

"Aaah..! Th-that is, I mean... I wasn't trying to hint at anything..."

"Just wait. I'll come back with good news soon."

"Ad-Administrator...!"

Cool women never look back. Just you wait, Librarian. I'll snag you some interns in no time.

Which meant the last stop was the kitchen.

"Chef looks crazy busy..."

The kitchen was, once again, a whirlwind of nonstop work.

"You damn floor masters, why do you shovel it in like that?! Die, die, die... choke on your food and drop dead already..."

Chef was cursing into empty air! The workload must have corrupted him into some kind of Dark Chef. Where was the man who, on the day he got his body back, was desperate to work?

Deciding it was not worth the risk to speak to him, I slipped out quietly. Rough estimate: without an intern, this floor would go on strike soon enough too.

"Very well. Let's go grant everyone their wishes."

-5F. Entering now.

Thud—!

"Ugh..."

Why is it that every new floor begins with me landing on my butt?

Anyway, the atmosphere of -5F was... how should I put it. A staffing agency? A waiting room? Something like that?

Blue plastic chairs bolted into the walls and ceiling. A whiteboard half-swallowed by the floor, littered with flyers. Beyond a glass door stretched an endless corridor with staircases and built-in seating for those waiting their turn.

Ding—

"Huh?"

As I looked around, a numbered ticket slid out of a small hole in the wall. Do I need to take that? I suppose I do, don't I?

"Number one?"

So I was the first visitor. Okay, I've taken the ticket on instinct — now what am I supposed to do?

Does -5F just not have a manager? Give me a hint, at least!

"Oh my oh my~ look at me, lost in my own head~ Welcome~"

"Uh, hello."

While I stood there floundering, a slit-eyed woman opened the door and came in. Hair tied in a ponytail, wearing an apron — she looked exactly like a kindergarten teacher?

"You took a number ticket, didn't you~?"

"Yep!"

She seemed to have a lovely personality. That gentle smile made her seem so kind. How do I describe it — motherliness? Warmth? Something like that radiated off her.

Was it because her chest was absolutely massive? She and the Librarian from -3F would make quite the rivalry.

To think such a harmless-looking being was the manager of the fifth basement ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠floor. The basement wasn't just an endless nightmare, after all.

The Teacher of the -5F Training Center. Something told me we'd get along just fine.

"You've come to pick up your child, haven't you~?"

"I'm sorry — my child?"

"Hahaha. Aren't you a parent?"

"Er, well, you see..."

Huh? What is she talking about? I came here to recruit interns. And you're suddenly calling me a parent? Besides, I have a child's build to begin with. Could it be this entity doesn't know I'm the Administrator? Every entity I've met so far figured it out on their own...

"Oh dear. That's strange. Entry here is forbidden to anyone but guardians."

"Hieee..."

In an instant, the Teacher's tone turned rigid. And her eyes — the ones she'd kept closed — began slowly to open. As if the moment those eyes opened fully, it would all be over.

'When a slit-eyed character opens her eyes, you're in for it!'

No! My instincts as an Administrator are screaming it! The moment the Teacher of -5F opens her eyes, something terrible happens!

'And she looks seriously unstable to begin with.'

I fully retract my earlier assessment that we'd get along!

Every entity I'd met so far had naturally recognized me as the Administrator. But this one didn't even register the fact. Something seemed badly wrong with her mind, some deep defect or damage. The problem was, she gave off that unmistakable scent of a person one wrong poke away from exploding.

Fine. I'll play along. Letting her keep living in her delusion was better for everyone.

"Aaah, right! I did come to pick up my child!"

"Hahahaha. That's right, isn't it? You're a guardian."

"Yes, yes. I'm the guardian."

Of exactly whose child, I had no idea — but to keep the floor master of -5F from breaking down, I resolved to become a guardian.

"Wonderful~ then please follow me. The children are still in their lessons."

"Uh, yes ma'am."

And so, blindly trailing after the Teacher, I watched the scenery around me begin to shift. The bleak, sterile staffing-office feel vanished, replaced by hallways crammed with scribbles like a small child's drawings and toys smashed to pieces.

What is this place? The vibe is terrifying!!!

But I am a fine and upstanding Administrator of the basement. So I followed proudly behind the Teacher, fearlessly...

"Hooeeck..."

A vast room. And what filled it was...

"W-wow. Th-there are... s-so many children here?"

"There are, aren't there? Hahaha. Their guardians haven't come for them yet, you see."

"I-I see..."

Mental Resistance Filter, you beautiful thing! My poker face almost shattered!

But seriously, what is this place? Why is everyone shirtless and trembling?!

"Oh dear, our Junseong mustn't cry~ If you cry, Santa Claus will go 'Gotcha!' and drag you away~"

"Hiiiick...!"

That's way too scary, Teacher..! And there's a Santa in the basement?! And he drags children away when they cry?

Last I checked, Santa just withholds presents from crying kids. That's the extent of his punishment! What is this dragging-away business?! Isn't that just a child-snatcher in a red suit?!

'This entity is not in her right mind...!'

The one mercy was that the Mental Resistance Filter had hidden a great deal. But one thing remained perfectly clear.

'Those people... are all adults.'

That's right. The manager of -5F styled herself a kindergarten teacher, yet not a single child existed anywhere on this floor. There's the basement's absurdity for you.

And most of those people were grizzled, hard-faced men. Tattoo-covered gangsters, mobsters scarred from head to toe — the kinds of middle-aged toughs whose faces said they'd never once flinched at anything in their lives — all huddled in the corners of the room, shaking like leaves...

"So, is the child you're looking for here?"

"I'm sorry — uh, well..."

No, I don't recognize a single one of those people. Where on earth did they all crawl in from? I don't know, and I'm scared.

'Ah... don't tell me.'

Then a single thought struck me: the whereabouts of the rogue gang members Popo and Kuku had swept away.

"......"

It was here, wasn't it. If they failed to die on the spot, they got shipped here?

Now I finally understood why this floor was called a Training Center. The basement of the Tower. The -5F Training Center. This was a forced-correction facility.

And the Teacher, manager of this floor...

"It seems the child you seek isn't in here?"

"No, uh, no."

"Shall we move on to the next classroom, then?"

"Next classroom? There's more than one?"

"Yes. This is the Sprout Class. It holds the children who have not yet been educated."

"Not yet... educated?"

"Yes indeed. The Flower Class holds the ones about halfway through their education. Will you follow me?"

"...Uh, yes."

The second classroom was in much the same state. The only difference from the Sprout Class was...

'None of them have faces.'

What kind of education did she put them through?! Why are they sitting so perfectly, so neatly in rows?! She took a crowd of mobsters, thugs, and gangsters and, all by herself, disciplined them into this?!

Slit-eyed ladies are terrifying!!!

"Fufufu. Your child isn't here either, it seems."

"Uweh..."

"Then let's go to the final classroom. The Fruit Class — the children whose education is complete and who are awaiting graduation."

She definitely just said graduation, didn't she?

"U-whoa..."

"What do you think? Aren't our children just adorable?"

Not even slightly. Not adorable in the slightest. They don't have faces!

'Egg-ghost state...'

The Mental Resistance Filter was working so hard that my thoughts were beginning to degrade. The interns had their personalities and selves thoroughly "educated," their individuality and free will revoked and voided...

So that's what the warning meant! If you tell me that, I'll start feeling sympathy I never had in the first place...

But then again, these men were, in their former lives, criminals who kidnapped civilians and peddled in evil. Looked at one way, they were society's rot — the wicked who preyed on the rest of us. And now, reborn as fine upstanding workers of the basement... surely that's a good thing, isn't it?