Not a Human
Beep— beep— beep—.
A series of repetitive beeps signaled an error.
Researchers fully clad in hazmat suits and protective gear reported in tense voices.
"Third attempt failed. It has been ruled an error, and forced measurement is confirmed to be impossible."
On a monitor to one side, a waveform never seen before was being drawn. Fear rippled through the researchers.
Ham Ji-wol, the Head of the Research and Analysis Division, checked the figures and quickly looked over at Kwak Han-muk.
Kwak Han-muk waved his hand, signaling that he was maintaining the binding securely.
Ham Ji-wol cautiously approached "it" and replaced the attached patches.
It was as if he were handling radioactive material.
I'd rather it be radioactive material. That would be easier to deal with, Kwak Han-muk thought as he gazed past the glass window.
Though a chilling atmosphere pervaded the room, the protagonist at the center of it all was completely serene.
The man, bound tightly by the prayer beads and sleeping peacefully, seemed entirely detached from the commotion surrounding him.
Out of habit, Kwak Han-muk rolled the beads on his wrist.
His rosary was a defensive item.
Made of lightning-struck jujube wood and imbued with the energy of thunder, the Byeokjomok Beads could extend in length at will and even be separated to be used within a certain range.
While it was best suited for binding and subduing targets, Kwak Han-muk had devised all sorts of bizarre methods to use it offensively.
In fact, he rarely used the Byeokjomok Beads for their fundamental purpose of binding and subduing.
The reason was simple: it wasn't fun.
But how had it been earlier?
"Han-muk, bind him."
The moment Mo Hae-in's words fell, he had unleashed the binding without a second thought.
It was a movement driven purely by instinct. The sensation of that moment, moving solely on intuition without passing through reason, was still vivid.
"Hae-in. What on earth did you pick up?" Kwak Han-muk asked, shaking his head.
Mo Hae-in immediately retorted, "I didn't pick him up. He appeared before me."
Having submitted her report to the higher-ups without a single moment of rest, Mo Hae-in looked haggard. Yet, her eyes shone with a brilliant intensity.
Only the sheer exhilaration of permanently closing a Trial through a True Ending was keeping her upright.
"Is he human?"
"...I don't know."
The moment Park Seong-gyeon's head exploded into golden fragments, Mo Hae-in had witnessed it clearly.
The change that had occurred in "its" eyes.
It was something impossible for a human.
Currently, all available personnel of the Sidae Agency had been mobilized to investigate the existence known as "Han Goyo."
Since Samra was scheduled to begin an investigation soon, that thing would surely be analyzed.
Whether he was an infected host of the Trial's virus, or an entity that was not human.
In truth, what "Han Goyo" actually was didn't matter to Mo Hae-in.
Could he be used, or not?
If he could help close Trials with True Endings, Mo Hae-in was prepared to accept him no matter what he was.
"You worked hard, Captain."
Suddenly, she recalled him offering that greeting.
His slightly smiling face had looked like that of an ordinary college student.
But Mo Hae-in pushed the memory out of her head.
Her feelings at that moment had been genuine, but right now, they would only cloud her judgment.
While Mo Hae-in stared at the sleeping Han Goyo without blinking, Kwak Han-muk, who had been doing nothing but rolling his prayer beads, suddenly spoke up.
"You said the Trial's NPCs showed a friendly attitude toward Han Goyo, right?"
"Yeah."
"Did you by any chance try attacking Han Goyo with your Black Obsidian Halberd?"
Mo Hae-in frowned at the sudden nonsense, but Kwak Han-muk was dead serious.
"No, I know it sounds fucking crazy, but I keep... feeling it right now. My beads."
As if finding his own words absurd, Kwak Han-muk let out a dry laugh.
"They want to release the binding."
Mo Hae-in's lips parted slightly.
Kwak Han-muk pressed down on his rosary with his hand and stared at Han Goyo.
For a while now, Kwak Han-muk's beads had been tingling against his skin, expressing their discontent.
Kwak Han-muk voiced the impossible hypothesis weighing on his mind.
"It might not just be the Trial's NPCs... Even items might be friendly toward Han Goyo."
"Ugh..."
I swallowed a groan and opened my eyes.
A white ceiling came into view. It looked like a hospital room.
...Or so I wanted to think as I woke up, but the scene before me was nothing of the sort.
Where I opened my eyes was an interrogation room. Furthermore, I was bound to a chair in a straitjacket.
I'm in deep shit.
The Sidae Agency fell under the Ministry of National Defense, so trials were held in a military court—though it was a trial in name only.
Due to its unique nature, they operated a separate military court, and the trial process was entirely independent.
In short, if they just pointed and said, "This bastard is a bad guy!" the Sidae Agency's military judge would immediately hand down detention or punishment without hesitation.
The only silver lining was that my injuries had been treated.
Confirming that the pain in my thigh had lessened significantly, a sudden question crossed my mind.
Come to think of it, why can't I register Kwak Han-muk?
Someone of Captain Kwak's caliber was certainly an important character with outstanding abilities, so he should be registerable. Yet, the system window indicating a registerable character hadn't popped up.
You believe that character registration must be approached with extreme caution.
This is because there are currently only [3] registerable slots available.
You judge that it is a bit too early to fill a slot with 'Kwak Han-muk'. This is because he might escape your ■■.
You desire to increase your capabilities as a System as quickly as possible.
You think it would be beneficial to register 'Mo Hae-in'.
A rigid answer had returned to my casual question. Having roughly resolved my curiosity, I habitually ignored the system window.
Just then, the closed door opened, and a man wearing the Sidae Agency uniform walked in.
"Hello, Mr. Han Goyo."
Greeting me with a pleasant smile, the man introduced himself.
"I am ■■■ of the Trial Response Agency."
I heard his name, but he was a character I didn't know at all.
Wait, what did he say his name was?
Even when I tried to recall it, I couldn't remember the name I had just heard.
The man looked at me, bound up like a cocoon, with a pitying expression.
"It must be very uncomfortable, isn't it? If you cooperate with us, we'll release you right away."
I was fully prepared to cooperate. And why wouldn't I be? I had nowhere else to go.
This place is my source of food, clothing, and shelter.
Knowing I'd be homeless the moment I left, I did my best to put on the most innocent expression possible and replied, "Yes. I look forward to working with you."
The man sitting opposite me checked his tablet for a moment, then smiled faintly.
"First... what does 'Gunbam' mean?"
I, who had been ready to answer instantly, could only ask back with a blank look on my face.
"Pardon?"
"Gunbam."
"Ah, Gunbam..."
I was flustered.
How the hell am I supposed to explain 'Gunbam'?
I wondered if this was some kind of advanced interrogation technique.
Not knowing what to do, I blinked a few times before hesitantly opening my mouth.
"It just means roasted chestnut. You know, chestnuts that are roasted."
The atmosphere turned chilly.
To appear even slightly more cooperative, I dragged up every piece of explanation I could possibly muster.
"My name is Han Goyo, so... you know the Christmas carol? The one that starts with 'Silent Night'—or Goyo-han Bam in Korean. At first, people called me Gobam. But then, while eating roasted chestnuts—gunbam—with my friends, Gobam turned into Gunbam..."
Wow, how pathetic.
The more I explained, the more I felt like I was digging my own grave.
But stopping here would only make it weirder.
"...And so my nickname changed. Since it's a familiar word, I often used 'Gunbam' as my username on the internet and other places."
Even when playing games from the Archive, I had always set my player name to Gunbam.
"So you are saying the name 'Gunbam' is a nickname you chose yourself?"
"Yes."
"..."
The man fell silent.
But there was nothing more I could explain. I wanted to stop talking about roasted chestnuts.
Let's move on to the next question.
As I waited quietly, he spoke.
"The names given by a Trial represent the characteristics of an Adaptor or hold some form of symbolism."
The man stared at me intently.
It was a gaze trying to detect a lie.
"And those names are entirely determined by the Trial."
That was news to me.
I had assumed everyone just chose whatever name they wanted, like setting a character name at the start of a game.
Although I had played the Archive's games quite diligently, the lore explanations were merely bonuses that appeared after reaching the game's ending.
As a player, there were bound to be things I didn't know.
"There has never been a case where a nickname with absolutely no characteristics or meaning—let alone one chosen by the person themselves like yours, Mr. Han Goyo—was used in a Trial. Not even once."
The man slid the tablet toward me.
"In this Happy Smile Factory Trial, there was another Adaptor besides you whose name underwent an anomaly."
Park Seong-gyeon's photo was displayed on the tablet.
"Park Seong-gyeon was given a completely different name, rather than the one he usually received from the Trials."
In the Happy Smile Factory, Park Seong-gyeon's name tag had read "Sample."
A system window immediately came to mind.
'Park Seong-gyeon' is a registerable sample character. Would you like to register him?
"Sample," and "Sample."
It was a naming so blatant it practically begged me to notice.
From the very moment Park Seong-gyeon entered the Happy Smile Factory, he had been branded as a sample for me.
It was a decent choice, actually.
Because the target was Park Seong-gyeon, I was able to choose Execution without any particular guilt or hesitation.
However, I didn't like the situation.
It felt as though the will of some entity wanted me to develop my abilities as a System.
In any case, the interrogation seemed to be going down the drain.
I can't exactly say my characteristic and symbolism is a roasted chestnut...
Leaving me in my complicated thoughts, the man continued his questioning.
"Mr. Han Goyo, you knew how to clear the Happy Smile Factory with a True Ending. Is that correct?"
"It was a coincidence."
"Han Goyo was highly proficient in the boss battle and knew a novel strategy unknown even to the Trial Response Agency. Through this, he brought about the True Ending."
The man chuckled softly before finishing his sentence.
"...That was the report submitted by Captain Mo Hae-in."
"It really was a coincidence. It seemed similar to a game I usually enjoy, so I tried it out, and it just happened to work—"
"Why did you blow up Park Seong-gyeon's head?"
The man cut me off. He was asking under the absolute assumption that I was the one who had done it.
I feigned ignorance once again.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
The man let out a long sigh.
"Mr. Han Goyo."
"Yes."
"I'm telling you this because you don't seem to realize, but torture is legal within the Trial Response Agency."
I know... I know all too well...
But it wasn't like I could just meekly confess either.
To give a proper confession, I would have to spout some nonsense about how I had entered a video game, the world of the Archive.
Can I register this guy?
I briefly imagined registering him and threatening him with Execution.
Entities that are not ■■ cannot be registered yet.
The system window popped up abruptly.
To avoid giving away my awkward gaze shifting toward the box blocking my vision, I cast my eyes downward, pretending to be frightened.
Those damn colored blocks.
I couldn't understand why it kept censoring things. Then, as if it had been waiting, an additional system window appeared.
Insufficient.
Now it seemed too lazy to even write "Your ability is insufficient," sending just a single word instead. At this rate, it would probably start sending just initials in the future.
Just as I was about to dismiss the system window, I looked at the colored block anew.
■■...
Could it be... "Human"?
The moment the word crossed my mind, a realization struck me like a physical blow.
One of the key characters of the Trial Response Agency.
An entity created by South Korea to counter the Trials, utilizing items retrieved from them.
Not a human, but an AI system android.
I called out the man's name.
"Samramansang."
At that moment, the face of the man I had thought looked perfectly normal until now came into clear focus.
His face was blacked out, as if someone had scribbled all over it.
The instant I perceived this incongruity, his dark Sidae Agency uniform shifted to white.
The black scribbles obscuring his face smoothly dissolved, revealing the man's true face.
Hair and eyes shimmering in holographic colors that shifted in real-time with the light.
An entity possessing colors a human could never have burst into laughter.
The space that had been a dim interrogation room just a moment ago transformed.
A colossal wall of unfathomable height materialized.
It was a wall constructed from a chaotic patchwork of all kinds of monitor panels, smartphones, and tablets.
In front of this wall, where everything in the world was being broadcasted in different videos, a backless chair sat atop an abnormally high dais.
Seated on the chair, Samra looked down at me.
"How did you know, Mr. Han Goyo?"