Chapter 109: Report (4)
Chapter 109: Report (4)
"Anything new on the disease?"
I spoke while tapping away at the keyboard resting on my lap.
"Well, just as Un-ho said, since it contains someone's will, I've thought of a way to stop its progression. However..."
As Oxymoron trailed off, the sound of my typing stopped as well.
"However?"
"It's only a theory. I'd need authorization to actually test it."
Authorization, huh...
"True, it's a clinical trial; we can't just do whatever we want. Should I get you permission now?"
Looking at the Management Bureau’s network, I saw a green light flickering next to Hyun-seok’s name, indicating he was logged in.
That meant I could draft an official document through the Bureau’s messenger right now.
"Mm. Go ahead and put in the application for now."
"Got it."
I opened the notarization window in the messenger and began typing a summary of the situation and the request for authorization. Just as I was about to hit send—
"Wait, before you send that."
Oxymoron’s urgent voice stopped me.
"What is it?"
"That's a public chat for notarization, right?"
"It is."
If I wanted authorization, I obviously had to use the public channel. It’s not like I’m doing a classified operation right now.
Ah. Well, it is technically confidential, so some parts will probably be redacted.
But it’s not like I’m planning an assassination or anything. Those things only stay on paper records.
"Let me see."
"Here."
I turned the monitor toward Oxymoron, who was sitting across from me.
Perhaps not expecting the monitor to actually move, Oxymoron froze halfway out of her chair, hands still gripped on the armrests.
Well, it was only possible because a monitor arm was installed. Is this standard for the Bureau’s administrative departments? The only office I’ve ever been to was Hyun-seok’s...
While I was lost in thought for a moment, Oxymoron seemed to snap out of it and leaned in to read the sentences on the screen.
"No profanity, correct sentence structure, confidentiality designated, you didn't call him 'Hyun-seok-ah' like a friend, the format is followed..."
What exactly does she take me for?
Even I wouldn't do that in a public chat...
...Wait.
Actually, I did it a lot.
As I searched my memories, I realized it was something I used to do quite often.
It was only because of certain memories that I was able to produce such clean prose now.
"There are no problems. I'm impressed. To think the Mister who used to ruin every piece of paperwork could write something so clean."
Ruin, huh.
I thought back to a few past documents.
Not only the abstracts, but even the tables of contents had been a total mess. If I were asked to write them now, I would never do it that way.
"...About that."
I turned the monitor back toward myself, hit Enter to send the message, and then looked at Oxymoron.
"Do you remember when I lost consciousness a few days ago?"
"Of course I remember. You're my patient."
A patient.
Maybe that really was the case.
"Then let me ask you something. Is it theoretically possible to learn a new skill through hallucinations, memory manipulation, or Mental Magic?"
Usually, I felt fine, but whenever I did paperwork like this, inner memories would surface.
Like the multiple personality cases I'd seen reported countless times, there was no sign of it trying to consume or take me over, but it would point out mistakes like a fastidious senior.
"It happens with multiple personalities...?"
Oxymoron pointed out the same thing I was thinking.
"I mean purely the skills and memories."
At those words, Oxymoron began to think, the filters on her Gas Mask spinning.
"Transferring skills and memories through mental-type techniques... There have been discussions about projects related to that..."
Spin, spin.
The canisters on the Gas Mask clicked in and out, drawing my gaze.
Oxymoron’s voice trailed off, and by the time the canisters had finished dozens of rotations—
"It's theoretically possible, but difficult."
Click.
With the sound of the canisters locking into place, Oxymoron gave her answer.
"They succeeded in transferring knowledge through it... but that was the limit. Actually mastering a skill..."
It was difficult. Am I not the perfect example of someone who can't even properly utilize imprinted knowledge?
"Theoretically, you could simulate a lifetime of learning that skill and then imprint it, but the computational load to do that for an individual is too high, and the possibility of personality conflict is..."
This was getting too long.
"That's enough. Let's skip the technical talk."
As expected, it wasn't a normal situation.
Sigh.
After letting out a breath, I went back to tapping the keyboard on my lap.
"...Are you perhaps experiencing that kind of problem right now?"
Tap. Tap-tap.
My hands raced across the keyboard. At a speed incomparable to before. And my consciousness began to split in two.
Writing the report.
And talking to Oxymoron.
"Yeah. For some reason, I've become strangely proficient at paperwork."
Naturally, as if I were performing a skill I had known from the beginning.
"What about personality conflict?"
There isn't any, right?
But then again, it’s a bit awkward to evaluate one's own personality.
"Have I seemed different to you over the past few days?"
"No."
"Then there isn't—"
"You're just as tactless and reckless as usual. You still can't hide your emotions, you sneakily steal food, you shake your legs, and you scratch your belly."
"..."
How exactly does she see me?
"Hmm, other than that..."
"Stop."
If I heard any more, my spirit would break.
"To summarize, you're exactly the same as always. Just consider it as having learned a new skill."
"...Right."
Maybe that was enough. I'll just think of it as a power-up, like other Heroes get. Even if it's a bit weird that the new skill is paperwork.
"Then, let's get back to the report. I understand that about 10% of the dust classification is done, but I haven't misinterpreted that, have I?"
"Mmm. That's correct... Wait, did you become proficient at statistical work too?"
I’d reached the point where I could tell just by looking.
"Yeah."
Hearing that, Oxymoron gave a twisted smile behind her mask and spoke.
"Could I open up your brain later when you have time?"
What kind of crazy talk is that?
"Rejected."
"Aw, why? If I perform a precision scan of your brain and memories, I might discover the secret to skill imprinting..."
Secret, my foot. She just wants to pop the lid because she's curious.
"The chances are low, right?"
"Isn't a scientist someone who takes the challenge if there's even a sliver of a chance?"
You're a doctor. And a quack one at that.
"Stop talking nonsense and let's get to work."
"What a waste... but I suppose I have no choice. A patient's wishes must be respected."
The thought of whether a medical professional who respects a patient's wishes would go around throwing syringes like darts crossed my mind, but I kept my mouth shut.
Only professional dialogue and the sound of the keyboard filled the room.
* * *
Creak.
A slight vibration was felt in the ascending elevator. A vibration an ordinary person wouldn't be able to sense.
"...When was the last time this elevator was inspected?"
"I will check."
The short-haired woman standing next to me quickly tapped on her PDA.
"...It was twenty months ago."
"Is the budget lacking? There shouldn't be any vibration here."
In truth, there was almost no chance that the slight vibration felt now would affect the Restricted Area, but there was always that one-in-a-million possibility. If a freight elevator were to fall, it would deliver a significant impact to the basement.
"There is no issue with the budget. However, hiring a technician was pushed down the priority list."
"See that it's handled quickly."
"Yes, sir."
Scritch. Scritch-scritch.
A strange sound reached my ears.
The sound of someone forcefully scratching a PDA screen with a plastic pen, as if trying to record our conversation.
Perhaps because of that, the PDA screen I had seen a moment ago was covered in scratches, but the entity holding it continued the action as if it didn't care.
Since the sound echoed inside the elevator, I looked over.
"...Can't you fix that habit?"
At my words, it reacted.
A Head Nurse with black hair, manifesting in the form of a black nurse's uniform.
The Black Head Nurse tilted her head as if my words were strange and moved her hand.
Scritch. Scritch.
The sound of scratching the plastic plate echoed, followed by the scratch-marred screen being turned toward me.
『Inspection behavior recorded. Executing command.』
"No, I'm not telling you not to do it. Just ease up on the touch pen."
At my words, it repeated the same action again.
The scratching sound, then the screen shown to me.
『Force control issue present. Impossible.』
Why did they assign someone like this as my escort? What's the point of a nurse who can't control her strength in the first place?
"Hehe."
Was our exchange amusing?
The Administrative Staff member who had been assigned to guide me through the branch let out a small laugh.
"What is it?"
"Oh, nothing. It's just that we're so used to them that we don't really pay them much mind."
Hmm.
Isn't that a problematic statement?
"Nurses are a vital resource for this sector. If there's an abnormality in their behavior, it's only natural to point it out."
Had this woman forgotten that I was here as an inspector?
"That's why we use that black one for tasks that require strength. For example... transporting luggage or repairing equipment."
I suppose each nurse has their own personality, and they're being used accordingly.
While there isn't much difference in the abilities of general nurses, it seems that by the time they reach the level of a Head Nurse, their abilities vary.
Well, it's not like I'm the one managing this place; I'm sure they know what they're doing.
Ding.
With a clear metallic chime signaling arrival at the designated floor, the elevator doors opened.
"Don't forget the elevator inspection. I can feel a slight vibration."
"Yes, sir."
The woman bowed her head, and I continued my inspection duties following her guidance.
"The number of rooms seems low. Are there any issues with accommodation?"
"Double shifts? Don't talk nonsense. Assign the Hero-class rooms to the general staff. There's no need to let them sit idle when there's enough space."
"I mentioned earlier that there seemed to be a shortage of chefs in the Dining Hall, but looking at it now, it seems fine. What was the solution?"
"Bring me the report on the local hiring process. I'll review it."
"The air purifiers are old models; they aren't doing their job. What does the budget expenditure look like?"
"I'll report this myself. See that new ones are issued promptly. In a place like this, it's highly likely to become a major issue."
How many hours had passed as I went around talking like that?
"Um... Inspector?"
The Administrative Staff member following me spoke up quietly.
"What is it?"
Wasn't this the first time she had spoken before I asked a question?
"Do you not need to check the administrative work?"
Administrative work? Why would I?
"Is there some sort of corruption?"
"No... it's not that, but..."
She waved her hands frantically at my words.
"Then what's the problem? Is the administrative workload too heavy? A lack of manpower? Equipment shortage?"
Is this a whistleblow at a time like this? It can't be helped; there's no one else around to report to, and this isn't a place an inspector would visit often...
The Bureau’s system would catch most corruption, but people find ways to slip through and commit fraud everywhere...
"No, the workload isn't that heavy. In fact, I'd say it's on the easier side. It's just..."
"Just?"
"It seems like you're only visiting places related to our daily lives..."
I see. She means it's not the kind of thing a typical inspector would do.
"The guy who assigned me this inspection probably expected as much from the moment he picked me. Don't worry about it."
Administrative inspection? Corruption? Budget cuts?
Why should I care?
The 'me' who was first sent here wouldn't have even looked at those things.
If they really wanted a proper inspection, they should have sent a professional. The moment they sent me, they must have expected this.
And if they didn't? Then they'll be sentenced to a budget increase for their failure.
"So don't worry about it, and feel free to criticize the Bureau’s welfare system to your heart's content."
I declared to her, the corners of my mouth lifting.
"...You don't really have the personality suited for an inspector."
"I think so too."
By the way, what did she say in our conversation earlier? That the work was on the easier side? Maybe I should suggest reducing the number of personnel sent here.
No, if I rashly reduced the staff, the shift system would fall apart.
"You, nurse? Delete the record of the conversation we just had."
Hearing my command, the nurse nodded silently and scratched the screen again.
"Why are you doing that?"
"If the statement about the work being easy remains, they might reduce the number of people sent here."
Truly, I was not suited for auditing.