What It Means to Live Like a Human?
What does it mean to live like a human? If someone had asked me that back when I was still human, I doubt I could have given a proper answer. Every single day was a battlefield, so humanity could go to hell. I was nothing more than a machine that made money. But now, after countless evolutions and metamorphoses from my mosquito origins, having drawn closer to the true essence of humanity, I can answer immediately.
The small luxuries I once enjoyed when I was still human. Those trivial comforts I couldn’t experience for so long after turning into a mosquito—those were what it truly meant to live like a human.
“Yeah. Humans need delicious food and a good night’s sleep to be happy.”
It had already been roughly six months since I’d moved into the Seoul Quarantine Center. These past six months were a time of long-awaited reward after the endless years I had endured.
My body stayed perfectly clean even without washing, yet how could I possibly resist showering with fresh water and slipping under soft, fluffy blankets? I could survive hundreds—maybe thousands—of years without eating, yet how could I turn down a perfectly balanced diet served three times a day? Twenty-one different menus rotated every two weeks for a total of forty-two options. The quarantine center’s cafeteria meals were my personal Michelin three-star restaurant.
Clink.
The spoon landed neatly on the now-empty tray. Aside from a few faint black marks, it looked as clean as if it had just been washed.
Woo Cheon-yeob, the team leader who had been monitoring me for the entire six months, set the book he was reading on his lap and muttered. His voice came through the speaker because of the barrier between us.
“If I complained about this, it’d mean my belly was already full~. People are still starving to death every day beyond the city limits, you know~.”
“I know, I know. Never mind what my body can handle—my tongue just wants it.”
I stuck my tongue out and cackled. Woo Cheon-yeob closed the book he had set face-down and shot to his feet. He probably thought I was an irredeemable, self-destructive lunatic. My body reacted violently to garlic—starting with heavy sweating—so watching me power through it might look weird. But what was I supposed to do? It was delicious. So delicious. Heheheheheh.
If only there wasn’t a garlic shortage, I would’ve asked for double the amount…
The suffering I had endured across countless centuries could never be satisfied by a mere six months of stable meals. Every delicious Korean dish, especially the ones loaded with garlic, all of it belonged in my mouth! Koreans, please put at least ten cloves of garlic in your aglio e olio!
“Is that so…?”
I stared straight at Woo Cheon-yeob. He stared back. This composition felt familiar. We had probably exchanged looks exactly like this when I first arrived. The only difference was probably my attitude this time.
“I’m… not leaving, though?”
I fiddled with the terminal I had been given three months ago and giggled. It was a basic model issued only after they confirmed I was an anomaly that wouldn’t interfere with the data network. Still, even the basic version was more than enough for gallery browsing, watching streams and videos, web novels, webtoons, and all the other joys of modern culture.
“I’m pretty satisfied with this life right now~.”
They fed me, they let me sleep, and I didn’t even have to work. I had just finished my perfectly efficient post-meal routine.
Trolling on the Fixer Gallery. Nothing was more fun these days. I enjoyed novels and anime plenty for cultural enrichment, but I couldn’t leave this out. It was a community where fixers gathered—professionals who worked nonstop to handle the endless anomalies appearing across the city. Most of them were decent, but as the great teacher Jirobo once said, one in five was a total bastard. Finding those bastards and poking them was just too entertaining.
Especially the scammers who preyed on ordinary citizens who didn’t know much about anomalies. Those guys were the absolute worst.
The reason there were so many malicious fixers was simple: the world was the way it was. There were too many anomalies and not enough fixers, so fixer offices naturally held an information advantage over ordinary citizens. In other words, I was basically the last remaining conscience of this era, protecting normal people from these bad guys.
Ah, Baek San-a, protecting humanity from her room while having fun. An anomaly more human than humans. There is no other anomaly like me.
As I smiled smugly, Woo Cheon-yeob spoke again.
“They aren’t bringing in any new anomalies anyway, so it’s fine if I stay here longer, right~? I know how it works now. As long as I’m here, the higher-ups send more funding~, and your salary increases too, Team Leader~.”
“You pick up all sorts of useful information while wandering the gallery~.”
Woo Cheon-yeob clicked his tongue, face twisting. The nickname of the hacker who periodically stole data from every agency, corporation, and office—GodRago—was briefly mentioned.
It stung, but I just laughed it off.
“Well… I still want to eat SsakSsak Chicken, but the requirements for a downtown pass are brutal…. You need 100,000 Seoul Contribution Points. For an anomaly like me, that’s a bit….”
It didn’t sound that bad when you said ten thousand, but it was a number that took even high-ranking fixers at least two years of desperate work to accumulate. For an anomaly who struggled to even obtain an identity, let alone a job, it was an impossible task.
And honestly… I just wanted to rest a little longer. Couldn’t I finish the full year of quarantine first and think about it after? Maybe even extend it to two years….
Woo Cheon-yeob, who had been silent for a moment, let out a small laugh. After spending half a year with only a wall between us, his wariness had softened enough for me to see that smile.
“Ooh~ I’m counting on you, Team Leader~!”
“Wait. You’re just a salaried employee, Team Leader?”
Wasn’t he too strong to be a mere salaryman? Well, since I was currently living as a quarantine center parasite myself, I wasn’t going to complain if he wanted to live as a salaryman.
“When will we get the results?”
The quarantine center director had gone to the central district today for important business. It seemed he meant we could talk once the director returned tomorrow.
Then I just had to wait quietly while gallery trolling. “One hour of gallery time followed by one minute of rest. It’s a virtue every gallery dweller must uphold.”
It was already time for my second daily routine of the day. I immediately entered the gallery. Oh, I still hadn’t been banned? Looks like the Head Admin found this post pretty interesting. Then I wouldn’t hold back. Let’s goooo.
Cheong Clan Alliance. A fixer office that had never ranked in Seoul overall but was well-known among people living in the southwestern part of the city, especially near the boundary. These days, with the military and police completely occupied with sealing off or defending certain districts, public safety and security in the surrounding areas naturally fell to the Cheong Clan Alliance.
Thanks to that, they enjoyed fairly high local support. Their office was often as crowded as a neighborhood community center where all the residents gathered… but today it had gone far beyond mere crowding. It was complete chaos.
“Is it true? You’re really not going to close the window?”
“What are you talking about? The operation is being prepared thoroughly! I don’t know where you heard such strange rumors—”
“The whole neighborhood is in an uproar! Why did you sell the operation equipment? If you were going to sell it, you should have sold it to us!”
“Sell it? That’s all fabricated. You all know that operation equipment can’t be sold to civilians in the first place…!”
“Enough! Bring out the representative!”
“Where is the representative! Damn it, because of that window our business has been suffering!”
“We’ve been feeling uneasy for a while, but today we’re getting the truth!!”
Today the office had become completely rowdy. Several burly men were already grabbing the fixers by the collar. Of course, if it came down to a physical fight, the fixers would ultimately win. No matter how low-ranked they were, they were still specialists trained to fight anomalies.
However, the fixers could not freely strike citizens. It might be different in other cities, but in Seoul it was strictly forbidden. Touch them carelessly and they might have to shut down their business.
That was why Representative Cheon Jin-soo himself had come out to the lobby to calm the citizens.
“It’s the representative!”
“Hey, Cheon Jin-soo!!”
“You bastard, where did you sell the large-scale anomaly equipment!”
The lobby was an absolute mess. Cheon Jin-soo spoke forcefully.
“First of all, let me say that the things you are misunderstanding are not true. The operation equipment is extremely important and massive, so it is difficult to store. We simply paid to keep it in a large safe.”
Angry voices poured in from all directions. But those voices soon lost strength. It was only natural. The only evidence they had was a photo of Cheong Clan Alliance staff moving the operation equipment.
“To be clear, that photo is fabricated. It must be the work of an anomaly. Do you know why? Because only then can humans be divided so that they can swallow the world.”
The people gradually began to be persuaded by Cheon Jin-soo’s words. Even those who had looked ready to throw punches moments ago had already lost their momentum and could only stand there with lowered mouths.
“I have also cooperated with the gallery administrator and identified the source of this rumor.”
Cheon Jin-soo smiled and raised his hand high.
“I will capture them and bring them before you within a few days. Then everything will become clear. Will you believe me then?”
The person who seemed to have led the citizens’ collective action today—an older man who appeared to be their representative—nodded with a reluctant expression and waved his hand dismissively.
The vice-representative who had approached Cheon Jin-soo’s side whispered.
“It’s a quarantine center IP.”
“...Quarantine center?”
The place where anomalies predicted to be harmless to humans—called Sephirah—were isolated and tested to verify whether they were truly safe. That was the quarantine center. On the other hand, Qlippoth, which were extremely harmful to humans and required immediate sealing or elimination, were rarely ever quarantined. Attempting to quarantine them usually resulted in heavy personnel losses, so the standard procedure was on-site sealing or disposal.
Judging from the gallery post, it was undoubtedly an anomaly in the form of a living being. If it was a living Sephirah, they were usually safe and weak, so Cheon Jin-soo alone would be more than enough to subdue it.
Above all, if a quarantined anomaly causes trouble, it must be disposed of without exception.
The anomaly had revealed the truth, and Cheon Jin-soo was trying to cover it with lies. Humans had to side with humans. If Cheon Jin-soo demanded that the trolling anomaly be made an example and executed in front of the citizens, they would have no choice but to comply.