The Anomalies Only Ever Show Me the Tops of Their Heads
After our emotions had settled, we stared at each other.
"Hey. Come on, get up already."
"Skrreeeee!!"
"I told you, I'm not going to kill you."
"Grrrrrrnkk......"
Well—to be precise, I was the only one who had calmed down.
Unlike me, lounging comfortably with my chin propped in my hand, the anomaly had been flattened to the floor this whole time, showing no intention of rising whatsoever.
"Why are you so scared? We've literally never met before."
—Poke, poke.
I prodded the anomaly's wire with my fingertip. Every time I made contact, it flinched and coiled itself up even tighter.
"S-skrreeeee......"
I kept that up for a while.
Eventually the anomaly pulled one of its arms out from inside its body and jabbed lightly at the empty air. An ambiguous gesture—neither attack nor resistance.
I was quietly watching the wire flop around when—
"Huh."
A private message had arrived from the anomaly.
A sentence made up of nothing but the same short word repeated over and over. I remembered reading about that speech pattern in one of the info posts.
Wow~ hey there friends! RecordKeeper-unca here!~
Today we're talking about the things the vast majority of you horror bros absolutely DESPISE!
That's right—low-intelligence anomalies!
You've all seen them at least once.
Those spam accounts that repeat nothing but weird words in bold.
Yeah. Those are low-intelligence ghost stories!
Their minds are completely enslaved by their urges.
Not only can you not hold a conversation with them, they'll try to attack literally anything they lay eyes on. Just assume their intelligence is bottom-tier.
But here's the problem...
Their aggression isn't limited to humans.
To them, WE'RE just chunks of meat too, y'know lol
Imagine some low-recognition nobody strutting around acting all high and mighty. How pissed would that make you?
That's why everyone pounces to tear them apart the second one shows up.
Anyway! If you spot a low-intelligence anomaly, don't hesitate—put it down.
Because they contribute absolutely NOTHING to this world!
"Killing them benefits the world, was it?"
"Skreeekeek!!"
As I murmured those words under my breath, the anomaly frantically posted an apology comment and curled itself back up into a ball.
It was quite obviously terrified.
I'd had my suspicions, and sure enough—it was using the gallery too. It must have glanced at my anonymous ID and mistaken me for some kind of powerhouse anomaly.
"Why do anomalies only ever show me the tops of their heads......"
I rose from my seat and whispered right beside the anomaly's head. Technically it didn't have ears, so—roughly, next to its head.
"Hey. If you don't get up right now, I'm cutting that wire."
"Skrreeee—!?!"
With a screech of scraping metal, the anomaly snapped bolt upright into a formal sitting posture.
Works like a charm.
The same threat—no, the same strategy—that had once shut that punk down in a single stroke.
"Grrrrrrnk......"
"Now, what am I supposed to do with you? Your chat is just one word on repeat, so I doubt we can have a conversation."
Judging by how well the threat had landed, the anomaly clearly understood what I was saying.
The problem was that I couldn't understand its language.
Honestly, it was questionable whether that noise even counted as language. How was I supposed to know whether that metal-scraping screech was speech or just plain crying?
"Hmm. In times like these, there's really only one answer."
Captured a low-intelligence anomaly just now lol
I want to squeeze some info out of this thing,
but every time I talk to it, all I get is scraping-metal noises and I can't understand a word..
Is there ANY way to have a conversation with this thing??
"Why the hell did you leave a comment?"
"Sk-skreee?"
"Stop it. The metal noise is loud, so no crying."
"......Kkik."
The anomaly dragged its fingertip-wire across the floor with a pitiful scrape. Now that I knew it was a low-intelligence anomaly, even that pathetic display looked kind of adorable.
"Sheesh. You're honestly the most 'horror bro' horror bro I've ever seen."
"Whoa there."
I slapped my palm over the words carved into the wall and thought.
A low-intelligence anomaly that couldn't speak. Which meant, in other words, there was no information to extract from this thing.
As I'd said before, holding a conversation through the chat was impossible too.
"At this rate, interrogating it is pointless......"
"The exit. If it lives around here, it might actually know where one is."
I was scratching the back of my head in disappointment when—
"Skeekik!"
"......Hmm?"
The anomaly rose from its spot and stood at crisp, perfect attention. Back ramrod straight, hands pressed flat against its sides.
—Swish!
The anomaly, which had been trembling like an aspen leaf, pointed somewhere.
"Don't tell me—you know where the exit is?"
"Grrrrrrnk!!"
The wire on its head was whipping around like crazy.
I'll take that as a yes......
"And you're only mentioning this NOW? You want to die?"
"G-Grrrrrrrrnk......!!"
"Whoa, hey, that was a joke. Don't run away."
After barely managing to stop the terrified anomaly from bolting, I gave its back a few firm pats and shoved it forward.
"Lead the way, front and center. Get us there in one piece, and I'll let you go alive."
"Ziing!? G-Grrrnk!!"
At my bluster-laced promise, the anomaly perked up tremendously and went bounding off toward the next room.
Sometimes it really pays to be mistaken for a monster.
Management Bureau, Republic of Korea Branch—conference room.
White, white, and more white, in every direction, with an almost obsessive thoroughness. Even the air drifting through the room felt rigid with formality.
"Phew...... A Calamity-class ghost story. Why on earth would a monster like that rear its head out of nowhere."
Seated around the round table, the branch directors of each city were staring down at documents detailing a single ghost story.
The Calamity-class ghost story, Void.
And the Nightmare-class ghost story, The Untouchable One.
"Let's hear some opinions, everyone. How ought we to deal with these two?"
—Rustle.
A middle-aged man in a black suit pointed at the documents as he spoke.
"In my view, a hardline approach is required here. I propose we assemble the elite of every branch and mount a full subjugation operation."
"Isn't the standing policy to leave Calamity-class entities alone?"
"It's a newly emerged Calamity-class, isn't it? Leaving it be is the greater risk."
"I'm against it. Our branch is stretched thin on the ghost story we're already working. In my opinion......"
As time wore on, the meeting grew heated.
Opinions of every stripe bounced from mouth to mouth, yet no workable method for dealing with the two ghost stories ever materialized.
"......It would seem unwise, I fear, to settle the matter within the day."
—Tap, tap.
The middle-aged man sighed and gathered up the papers.
"We shall table this agenda item here. Do the members concur?"
One by one, the other branch directors nodded.
In the end, every last one of them agreed to defer judgment. And just as the middle-aged man moved to pass along the documents for the next agenda item—
—Scrape!
"One moment. I believe I'm owed a chance to speak."
A woman pushed back her chair and rose, drawing every eye in the room.
Hair that was black on the outside and blue-green within—an odd, striking combination. At a glance she appeared fairly mature in age, yet something about her aura made it strangely impossible to pin down how old she actually was.
"Seoul Branch Director Yoon Chaewon. Why do you speak only after the agenda has already moved on?"
"Because this way is more dramatic, of course. I was waiting on purpose."
"......"
While the middle-aged man choked on his words and sighed, Chaewon rested a hand on her ample chest as if to say, focus on me, and spoke.
"These ghost stories. I will take charge of them myself."
"Is this some kind of joke? The Seoul branch means to handle an item another branch submitted?"
"No—not the Seoul branch. I, alone."
"......?"
"......?"
The room erupted at Chaewon's words.
So the Seoul Branch Director has finally lost her mind. This is why you don't put young people in high office. Most of the chatter that flew back and forth was devoted to tearing her down.
Then one of the directors jabbed a finger in her direction.
"Nonsense! Who on earth subjugates a Calamity-class ghost story single-handedly!?"
"Ah, and the rookie Kang Seoyoon will be accompanying me, of course."
"You have some nerve......!!"
The director rounded the table and moved to close in on Chaewon—
—Step!
"D-Branch Director?"
"You are being a touch hasty, I'd say."
The middle-aged man—the Republic of Korea's Branch Director—stepped squarely into his path.
"Branch Director Yoon Chaewon. Can you truly manage this with just the two of you?"
"Trust me. You know perfectly well what I'm capable of, Branch Director."
"That I do. I've watched your skill get wrung dry inside a Primordial-class ghost story more times than I can count."
The Branch Director slid the documents across the table, and they came to rest in front of Chaewon.
Assigned Agent: ____________________
"Sign it. That ghost story is yours to handle."
"Hehe. I'll give it my very best!"
Chaewon signed the assigned-agent line with a playful smile. The other directors' expressions soured, but with no better alternative on the table, they grudgingly held their tongues and watched her.
"Then let us move to the next agenda. This ghost story is of the monster-type, and as such......"
Even the faint vestiges of suspicion in their eyes faded naturally as the meeting rolled on to its next topic.
But.
The directors should not have let it slide so easily.
Because there, in Chaewon's pocket, sat a phone with its power switched on—a screen spilling soft blue light, and upon it:
Horror Minor Gallery
...the name of a certain gallery was glowing.
At the end of the road I'd followed behind the wire anomaly—
"Horror bro, so THIS is the exit?"
"Grrrnk!"
On the way here, I'd been expecting a door leading outside. And honestly, I'd been more or less right.
"......Which one?"
There was a door in front of me.
There was also a door to my side.
There was a door behind me, too.
Doors...... there were just so. many. damn doors.