The Representative's Burden (3)

The Fixer Gallery buzzed with its usual chaotic energy.

“Ugh.”

Just as expected, being a representative meant an absolute mountain of dirty work.

Did Woo Chun-yeob seriously think I could handle all of this by myself?

No way, right?

‘Maybe this is some kind of pressure tactic? Like, since I slacked off for half a year, now I have to work like a dog…?’

Whatever the case, if he told me to do it, I had no choice but to obey.

Still, I really wished I could push it off for another six months somehow.

I’d only taken a single day off from gallery browsing yesterday, yet here I was, doomscrolling all day today…

I was starting to understand, at least indirectly, why smokers found quitting so damn hard.

“I wish someone would handle the office performance reports and alchemy for me. And all the annoying paperwork too… If I had that, being a representative might actually be doable.”

My head had already turned into complete mush.

No matter how much I thought about it, the answer wasn’t going to magically appear.

I might as well just hire a pet caretaker.

That was the whole point of this from the beginning anyway.

The offer to remove the bomb collar was tempting, but for now it felt more like a long-term project with a vague “I’ll get around to it eventually~” vibe.

“Connect me to Cheong Ha-rin.”

I muttered into the terminal, and the call connected shortly after.

Beep… beep… beep…

“I hope she doesn’t mind just feeding the dog. As long as she doesn’t hate it…”

Well, she’d said herself that she’d barely done any real fixer work before, so it should be fine, right?

Calling it feeding the dog was a bit much. In reality, she’d basically just be hanging out with me.

Getting paid to mess around all day—honestly, what office worker could possibly turn down an offer like that?

But the call cut off after only a few rings.

“She said she had no money, but is she really unable to even pay the electricity bill?!”

Seeing how she was surviving on emergency rations, it did seem like she had almost no living expenses.

But to the point where she couldn’t even charge her terminal…

“Well… I guess she’ll check the message and call me back when she can.”

If she wasn’t picking up right away, there wasn’t much I could do.

I’d just have to wait.

Time to browse the gallery again!

“Let’s see… anything interesting…”

… ─[[ Fixer Gallery ]]─ …

A Window was a type of anomaly that spat out unknown lifeforms. They appeared irregularly across the world, and if not dealt with promptly, many of them would devastate the surrounding area.

Since they were famous enough to always come up whenever someone questioned the very existence of fixers, Window-related posts were basically steady sellers on the Fixer Gallery.

Plus, even if you only worked a little after signing up, you still got paid, so it was great for people who had finished their office work and wanted some pocket money.

Even if the reward got split among a huge crowd, it was still supposedly enough to cover three days of food expenses.

I didn’t know what kind of Window this was, but with this many fixers swarming it, the thing was going to get absolutely wrecked… Wait, huh?

Ah.

So it was Window Da-112.

The one the Cheong Clan Alliance said they’d close, only to fall apart mid-operation and leave it unfinished?

“Hmm. This might actually be a serious fight.”

I’d mentioned it before, but this particular Window was… how should ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I put it.

It was the kind where the human wave tactic had gone completely insane.

The administration had nicknamed it “Cockroach Den.”

It was crawling with insanely fertile bugs that looked like a mix of cockroaches and grasshoppers. Leave it alone for a single day and their numbers would double.

“Wait, no. Is it really that serious…?”

What we really needed to remember was that the Cheong Clan Alliance had announced they would close it, then left it untouched for several months.

Thanks to the Window containment kit provided by the administration, the bugs hadn’t been able to crawl outside. But that didn’t stop them from breeding.

The containment kit was literally just a temporary physical barrier. Nothing more.

Depending on the Window’s interior size and the bugs’ breeding method, the moment the door was opened, thousands—maybe tens of thousands—of insects could come pouring out.

The Loki office that had taken over the mission clearly knew this, which was why they were working so hard to gather more fixers…

“…If I’m not careful, won’t this reach all the way here?”

The Ghost Office that Woo Chun-yeob had set up for me was located about one kilometer away from where the old Cheong Clan Alliance office had been.

Right in the middle between the two was Window Da-112, the target of this operation.

They were apparently installing some kind of transparent dome to prevent any bugs from escaping, but…

Honestly, no matter how thorough the preparations, accidents could still happen. And within a one-kilometer radius of Window Da-112 were quite a few of the Doksan-dong restaurants I’d recently discovered.

Yes, including the ramen shop I’d eaten at with Cheong Ha-rin not long ago.

That place was inside the radius too.

It would be a huge problem if the owners or the shops got attacked.

Especially now that free meal distribution had stopped!

“I guess I should go check it out…”

There were so many applicants. They probably wouldn’t bother checking whether every single registered fixer had shown up, right?

Still, just to be safe, maybe I should attach the Ghost Office representative link. Anonymously. Using the Wi-Fi here for the IP…

* * *

At the same time.

Cheong Ha-rin stared at the massive crowd with her mouth hanging open.

“Wait… did they actually call every single person who commented?”

The administration’s listed reward for suppressing Window Da-112 was 40,000 credits.

Forty percent of that was 16,000 credits. If every single commenter had shown up, the average share per person would be a measly 8 credits.

“That’s only enough for two days of food… Haah…”

And even that, Cheong Ha-rin couldn’t spend entirely on meals.

She was still using traditional weapons for fixer work, which meant every bullet used created additional expenses.

‘Right now, a hundred rounds of 7mm cost 20 credits…’

Roughly forty shots would put her at break-even.

Since the bugs had tough exoskeletons, she could only kill one every ten shots. That meant she could take down about four at most.

The administration had estimated there were at least tens of thousands of bugs inside the Window, so her kill count probably wouldn’t make much of a difference.

The participating fixers would also receive differential rewards based on contribution, so there was a high chance she wouldn’t even get the average 8 credits she’d calculated earlier.

“Ugh… I came here because I needed money, but in the end I’m just dead weight again…”

This left her with no choice but to worry.

Should she save the bullets and use her longsword instead?

She had no idea how long their arms were. What if she got sliced while trying to cut them?

Or… maybe she should just watch from the back?

‘…No. I can’t. I’m sure I’m not the only one thinking like this.’

It would be nice if all two thousand people gave it their absolute best.

But this was nothing more than a disorganized mob without any central command—an army of Tang soldiers.

The moment a hole opened in the front line, these people would be the first to run.

That was why Cheong Ha-rin could not run away.

As the former fourth rank of the Cheong Clan Alliance—the group that had caused this problem—she wanted to take at least some responsibility.

“That’s right. I need to finish this here so I can finally sleep with my legs stretched out…”

The voices of the citizens who had swarmed the office still seemed to echo in her ears.

Trash.

Scum who abandoned righteousness.

You can’t trust fixers…

“I’m sorry…”

While she was unconsciously apologizing to those voices, a loud announcement boomed from a speaker at the center of the massive dome surrounding the Window.

The scattered fixers began clapping and gathering toward the center where the woman holding a staff stood.

Kim Rok-hee bowed several times to the crowd before continuing.

A thunderous roar of approval rose up.

It seemed everyone was thinking along the same lines.

After that came a long, boring, and overly academic speech of gratitude along with an explanation of the operation plan…

About fifteen minutes later, a buzzer finally rang out, signaling the opening of the sealed Window.

The instant Kim Rok-hee finished speaking—

Clang! Ka-kang!

The Window containment kit split open with a deafening noise.

Soon after, the ominous sound of flapping wings began to grow louder and louder.

The noise made by human-sized insects was utterly repulsive.

Fixers who had faced this type of anomaly before were fine, but those who hadn’t were already dry-heaving.

Cheong Ha-rin, who was still relatively composed, watched the swarm of bugs spreading out like black fog and muttered in a stunned voice.

“Wow, Cheong Jin-soo, you crazy bastard. You never planned to clear this Window from the start, did you…?”

Only fifteen members in the entire Cheong Clan Alliance, and they were going to close this thing?

Just like LivingAGodLifeButActuallyAMonster360 had said, it was an utterly ridiculous idea.

If anything, they should be thanking the monster who had blown up the Cheong Clan Alliance and prevented the operation from starting.

It looked like they had accepted the mission relying on some great anomaly suppression equipment that was probably floating around the black market right now.

But even with that equipment, the sheer volume of enemies made success questionable.

It hadn’t even been five minutes since the Window opened, yet the sky inside the dome was already pitch black.

They were all human-sized cockroaches and grasshoppers, hybrids frantically searching for light.

“Yaaaaaah!”

Slash!

Starting with a swordsman who sent a silver blade of energy flying toward the sky, the participating fixers drew their weapons one after another.

Listening to Kim Rok-hee’s repeated warning, Cheong Ha-rin drew the longsword she carried at her waist.

“Hoo… Let’s get started…!”

Since she couldn’t reach the ones floating in the air anyway, her targets would be the bugs closer to the ground.

“First one!”

Crunch!

A bug that had been clinging to the dome wall trying to break through physically was sliced halfway in two by Cheong Ha-rin’s powerful downward strike.

Kiiiieeeek!

The bug let out a horrible shriek and thrashed its sharp stinger wildly, but Cheong Ha-rin dodged with nimble movements—

Crunch!

Then brought her sword down again from above, completely severing the already half-cut body.

“Hoo. Good thing they break easier than I thought.”

If their shells had been tough enough to withstand bullets, she wouldn’t have been able to kill even one. Thankfully, her sword worked just fine.

This was her beloved blade that she had sharpened relentlessly ever since hearing months ago that they were going to close the Window.

Along with the only keepsake her father had left behind, her fear gradually faded away.

“Yaaaaaah!”

Crunch.

Crunch!!

“Die!!”

Two, three, then four.

Cheong Ha-rin continued slaughtering the bugs in rapid succession.

She was thinking how stupid these insects were, repeatedly doing the exact same thing and dying in the same spot, when—

Thud!

“Ugh!”

The fifth.

Right before the bug doing the exact same thing could be cut in half, another bug flew in from somewhere and slammed into her, sending her flying.

She spun through the air and barely managed to roll sideways against the wall.

When she landed smoothly on the ground and looked back, she saw that other bugs had begun guarding the one she had half-cut open.

“These things are actually coordinating roles…!”

At that moment—

Chzzzzzt.

An ominous sound like something melting echoed.

Cheong Ha-rin’s gaze instinctively snapped toward the source.

“…!”

There was a hole in the dome.

It was still only big enough for a palm to fit through, but it was gradually expanding, probably because of the red secretion the bug had spat out.

‘What? Why is there a hole…? No, more importantly, are they trying to escape through here?’

Did they actually have higher intelligence than she’d thought?

Were they trying to sneak some eggs out in advance, knowing the fixers were focusing fire to kill the queen?

If so, even if they killed the queen and closed the Window, it would still be a problem.

If these things established a nest somewhere hidden and began multiplying, it would cause an even greater disaster than before.

The Qlipha scale that measured how threatening an anomaly was to the world might shoot up dramatically.

Because bugs raised in a controlled farm and bugs that had broken containment and gone wild were two completely different things.

“That can’t happen…!”

Cheong Ha-rin shouted loudly.

“Everyone!! The bugs are trying to escape!! There’s a hole in the dome!!”

But there wasn’t a single fixer nearby who would listen to her plea.

Instead of the fixers who had been there moments ago, the area was now completely filled with bugs.

Only then did Cheong Ha-rin realize the truth.

The fixers hadn’t disappeared—they had been eaten and were now inside the bugs’ stomachs.

Even ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠now, several fixers were screaming as they were devoured alive.

‘They knew this was the weakest spot…!’

No matter how well-organized the leading office was, it was impossible to distribute two thousand fixers in perfect balance.

Naturally, there would be areas where only the weaker fixers had gathered.

Perhaps the bugs were communicating with each other, searching for weak points, and the moment they found one, they focused their attack there.

And the spot they had chosen just happened to be where Cheong Ha-rin was standing.

Bzzzzz.

“Hup!”

Now that she was the only one left in the area, another swarm of bugs came rushing in to get rid of her.

The bugs’ proboscises and front legs that had evolved into blades flew at her from every direction.

The attacks were impossible to predict, so all she could do was dodge.

In the meantime, the hole in the dome kept growing larger by the second.

It was already big enough for a bug’s head to squeeze through.

‘Damn it, if I could just kill the ones clinging to that wall, I could at least buy some time…!’

With desperate resolve, Cheong Ha-rin flattened herself against the ground and charged forward.

Thud! Thud-thud!

Several bugs dove at her like dive bombers, slamming into the ground and sending continuous shockwaves rippling outward.

“Kgh!”

The ground shook violently.

Cheong Ha-rin danced across the trembling surface, drew her sword once more, and was about to bring it down on the bug secreting the fluid when—

“Die—!”

—Squelch.

“Huh?”

Her stomach suddenly grew hot. Something burning surged up her throat.

A moment later, blood poured from her mouth.

As if announcing the danger to her life, it would not stop.

“Cough…”