Give Me All Your Interns!

Hand over every intern you've got!

What a terrifying sight this is!

Humans who'd been scraping by at the bottom of life, reborn as such splendid workers.

Korean public education never managed it, but the Basement has accomplished what it never could: the total remodeling of human beings.

"Just what kind of technology does the Basement possess...?"

This, truly, is recycling at its finest.

Really, shouldn't this be something to celebrate rather than fear?

Yes — a spectacle this magnificent shouldn't be mine alone to see!

Everyone has to witness this!

Everybody!! Watch me!!!

Yes, well. There you have it.

I suppose that's the typical reaction.

The Basement is, without question, a terrifying place.

Unless you're superior basement management personnel like yours truly, it's an ultra-high-danger zone where the entities could rip you apart on sight. From an ordinary mortal's perspective, the brain damage would be instant. They're all climbers, at least, so they can crack a joke or two to cope, I suppose.

They're not Basement-exclusive monsters, for your information. They're my worker candidates.

But wow, the reactions are truly explosive. I don't post Basement scenery very often, you see, so there are quite a lot of curious people out there. That's why, a few days ago, I decided to show everyone a little of what the Basement was really like — and after spamming photos of the unsanitized kitchen, I got around 270 alternate accounts banned.

The sights of the Basement are simply too horrifying for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ordinary climbers to see and endure.

The Fruit Class right now is exactly that. A crowd packed into the room, standing around blankly — they look just like a tray of bean sprouts.

Grotesque!!!

To get used to scenery like that, you have no choice but to see it often, right? Maybe the more you look, the cuter they'd start to seem. Let me just lean in a little here — swoop.

"AAAAGH! Don't shove your face in like that!"

Nope nope nope nope. There is absolutely no way something like that could ever look cute.

Work harder, Mental Resistance Filter!

"Oh my! You mustn't shout in front of the little ones, guardian!"

"Ah, sorry..."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Phew. Now I can breathe a little. Though I feel like I've been overusing the Mental Resistance Filter today. Is that really okay?

"So then, how is it? Is there no child you're looking for here either?"

"Ah, well. You see... I'm still looking."

"I'm afraid the classrooms only go up to the Fruit Class. If your child isn't here either, you won't find them anywhere else. You must find your child here — here, above all. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

There it goes again — her eyes shifting the moment I look away. And she seems oddly tired, almost anxious. The Teacher of Basement Floor 5 clearly has a dual personality, and she's radiating the atmosphere of someone desperate to sell me at least one egg-faced human from the Fruit Class, by any means necessary.

Certainly. The Fruit Class does feel rather full.

There's no room to sit; everyone's pressed tightly against one another. New arrivals keep flowing in, but since the Fruit Class's space is limited, she must just be cramming them in regardless.

To sum it up in one phrase: the Basement Floor 5 Training Center has hit a wall called "graduation."

Once you make interns, you're supposed to push them out to other floors quickly and burn through the supply. That pipeline is jammed.

Ahh. Now I get it.

The task I was supposed to accomplish on -5F from the very beginning was none other than recruiting interns. And this recruitment quest carried a meaning far deeper than simply gathering workers to ship off to other floors.

Basement Floor 5 is over capacity. The Fruit Class is on the verge of bursting, and Teacher, the entity in charge of -5F, has fallen into mental derangement. With graduations impossible, she's hoping a guardian will come take the children off her hands.

Just like the entities overseeing the other floors, Teacher had probably been left abandoned here for a very long time. That's what broke her. Holding onto nothing but the memory of her duty, she endured — of course she did.

As the Manager, I would have to unstick the jammed -5F myself.

"Teacher."

"Have you found the child you'll take with you?"

"Yes. But you see, I'll be taking rather a lot of children."

"I'm sorry?"

After everything it took to get here, one intern simply won't do. Give me more! No — give me every intern you have in here!

"Do you, by chance, want two or more?"

"No. That's not it. I'm taking all of them."

"Wha...? Now, hold on just a moment. Truly... all of them? Minho, Heejun, Youngsu, Kyungsik... and the rest of the children as well — all, all of them?"

When I nodded, the Teacher clapped a hand over her mouth in astonishment. That's not a displeased reaction, right? If anything, she looks delighted that I'm handling everything for her — am I right?

"Do you perhaps dislike the idea?"

"N-no! Not at all, it's just..."

Good, that seems to be the right answer.

As Manager, I shall resolve the problems of -5F. Hand over all the interns! From this moment on, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the entire graduating class of the Training Center is coming with me.

"You see, these children... their parents don't seem to be coming for them. So I'll take them in and raise them myself. I'll become a shelter and a caretaker for children who have nowhere else to go."

"A shelter for children with nowhere to go... you would do that for them..."

The Teacher's gaze sagged gently, like a lamb at rest. An expression of complete disarmament. Ahh — that's the very same face the Librarian made when she first met me. Perhaps it's the finest smile an entity can wear upon meeting its Manager for the first time.

What's that? The entity in charge of Basement Floor 5 is a dual-personality madwoman, you say?

So what! Does that give me any reason to halt my duties? As Manager of the Basement, I have an obligation to manage its entities. Probably.

"Honestly, if you would... I couldn't be happier. But won't it be too much of a burden for you, guardian?"

"Oh, Teacher. You needn't shoulder this exhausting child-rearing alone anymore. I am a guardian, yes — but I am also the Manager of the Basement. You need rest too, don't you?"

Having met so many entities throughout the Basement, I know this much: entities aren't necessarily obsessed with nothing but their work. Teacher broke down because she pushed herself far too hard for too long. Entities need rest too. When the workload is crushing, they can collapse — and when the entity in charge goes down, every duty on that floor grinds to a halt.

"So let me help you. To the Manager of the Basement, you are just as much a soul to be cared for and looked after as these children are."

"I too... I too may receive your care, guardian...?"

"Yes. That's precisely why I exist. So? Am I not dependable!"

"Hohoho... Truly, you are dependable. You know, perhaps... I have been waiting for this day. For a very, very long time."

The Teacher entity of the Basement Floor 5 Training Center. She, too, may have been a child waiting here all along for a guardian to come take her away.

"It's as if a long-held dream has finally begun to stir awake, guardian."

"This is..."

"Something I've had since long ago. Beyond the haze of blurred memory — before I was left alone. I believe the ones who raised me here once held it... but I think it suits you far better now, guardian."

Ahh, you damned Constellations. Unforgivable!

In any case, I accepted the file folder the Teacher handed over. And this is, without a doubt...

A Lost & Found discovery on Basement Floor 5. So this is an item that reveals another person's potential or aptitude. A talent appraiser, plain and simple. Hold it, look into someone's face, and their traits appear on the report.

For instance, if I peer at that composed little egg-ghost intern standing there without shedding a single tear...

That's the kind of information it spits out. Not only which abilities excel, but even a recommendation for where to send them. This would work on ordinary climbers just as well as on entities.

"Thank you. I'll keep it safe."

"Not at all — the thanks are mine. Thank you for coming, guardian. Thanks to you, a weight has been lifted from my heart."

The Teacher smiled softly. Perhaps because I'd shared the burden she'd been carrying alone, her smile looked a little lighter somehow.

"Alright! Everyone, follow me! Your Training Center course is officially complete! From now on, you fresh members of society will be working in the Tower! No pay, and meals aren't provided either! But let's give this intern life our very best anyway!"

A silent cheer erupted. The smooth, glossy egg-ghosts were raising their hands in celebration!? Some of them were even busting out dance moves? They must be overjoyed at finally escaping this cramped, stifling Fruit Class. Honestly, I can't even fathom how badly they wanted out of here.

But seeing them so delighted like that... are the egg-ghosts actually kind of cute?

Ring!

The quest cleared, smooth as anything!

"Then we'll be off. See you again."

"Yes. Take care on your way, guardian. I will be waiting for our next meeting."

And so I came into possession of nearly seventy interns. But moving them all to the other floors means passing through the Break Room first — so I decided to ferry them over in three trips. Our Break Room simply has no space for seventy bodies at once.

"Everyone, stand up straight! Cheolsu squad, right wall. Minsu squad, left. Jinsu squad, sit tight and wait!"

Friends bound for the Office, the Library, and the Kitchen respectively. I sorted them into separate groups using the Aptitude Diagnostic Report.

"Alright. Cheolsu squad, with me."

The egg-ghosts nodded their heads without a word. Every last one of them was suited for the "Office."

Now then, what kind of expression would the Salaryman make at the sight of this?

"Salaryman! Take a look at this!"

"Ah, Manager, you've come... Huh...?"

"What do you think! You said you needed subordinates, didn't you?"

Office suitability of at least eighty percent. Interns with professional clerical expertise — thirty-six in total. Nearly half of all the interns I'd brought out of the Fruit Class.

"Workers delivered."

"M-Manager...!!!"

This is exactly it. That expression of shock, disbelief, and pure delight. Am I perhaps the type who gets catharsis out of volunteering? When the entities are happy, I get happy right along with them. Is this what the heart of a Basement Manager feels like?

"Manager. Are you... a god?"

"Hahahaha! No, well, I wouldn't go that far! It's really nothing~!"

"No... you are a god. Not a single day had passed since I voiced my request, and you solved it like *snap*. What blinding speed of execution...! I am in awe, Manager."

"Oh, come on! It's really not that big a deal. Hwa-haha-hat!"

This, friends, is the legendary Korean work-processing speed. It's on an entirely different dimensional plane from other countries like those in Europe or Japan.

Then again, I did work hard today — surely I'm entitled to a bit of gloating?

Good! Alright, everyone, get to work! Work to your heart's content!

Ring!

Huh? What was that?

I can now personally interfere with the Tower's policies?

Hold on, what does that even...

Something absolutely massive just popped up here...

Reward acquisition increased by fifty percent? One and a half times the experience points? Wait, and I won't die even if I step on a trap????

As of this moment, I have gained the power to boil every climber's brain in dopamine for a week — with a single tap of my finger.