Raopf's Recruitment Reel and Doppelganger Double-Trouble

The quiz show reaction broadcast turned out pretty decent. It was a video introducing the newest resident to the anomalies, and for a first try, the results weren't half bad.

"Even for their debut in an unfamiliar spot, they all have experience, so it came out great. Good work."

"Yeees. Th-thank you so muuuch...."

After days of dedicated training, Raopf had reformed to the point where she expressed gratitude instead of crying, 'Ugh, just kill me already!'

"They're all bored, so could you make one video a day? They love being in front of the camera, right?"

"O-one every day...?"

"If that's too much, should I step in and make content? Like I did before...."

"N-nooo... I'll make it work sooomehow...."

She'd suddenly become timid, her speech dragging like her brain had melted, but compared to how the other anomalies acted when they first arrived, this was on the better side. Bringing along her staff seemed to have helped a lot.

Today's shoot produced two videos.

One for the anomalies under the Containment Bureau's protection, led by the quiz show footage.

The other was a promotional video for the Containment Bureau to post on the Anomaly Gallery.

He bundled the promo video with a post and uploaded it to the Anomaly Gallery.

He wanted to check the reactions right away, but sadly, he had an appointment with Nahee. It was the regular check-up they'd scheduled after every mission.

"All clear again, Junior?"

"Is something wrong?"

"Normally, getting tangled in anomalies picks up a mental contamination or two. Like a quirk, you know?"

Apparently, Jang Namgyu was muttering quizzes to the wall by himself over and over, while Yoon Eunbyeol was still talking to dolls on her left and right hands as if they were family.

"You're fine though, Senior?"

"How do you think I know about that? We were in the same ward until recently."

"You okay?"

"Of course. I'm used to it now. The other two in the ward will get better with time too."

Nahee explained that facing anomalies and mentally breaking down was par for the course.

"You break, recover, and your mental barrier gets tougher. It can twist you permanently sometimes, but you do recover. Depends on your temperament for the limits, though."

"I see."

"Doesn't make logical sense, but that's how it works after you've been through it."

True to the bizarre nature of anomalies, the humans caught up in them warped in strange ways too.

Not just stronger mental fortitude—physical limits shattered, and under extreme stress, they even gained special abilities.

Nahee's hypnosis was one such power.

She said it strengthened whenever she used hypnosis or got swept up in anomalies.

"Your eyes have probably changed too, Junior. Maybe your brain. Otherwise, figuring out all those puzzles doesn't add up. What's the status now?"

It was hard to sum up neatly, but it focused on seeing.

1. Whether an anomaly was hostile or friendly showed up.

2. With effort, he could dive deep into specific info. Could be objects, people, anomalies, or traces left by other agents.

"The second one's standard for all Containment Bureau agents, but yours feels different. Want to run a quick anomaly check?"

Jeongchan went through the exam, locking eyes with plenty of stares. Mostly suspicion and curiosity, occasionally hostility lingering on him.

"Senior. Not to be paranoid, but people are staring at me extra today."

"...You know what you did, right, Junior?"

When they compiled agent body cams, reports, and survivor testimonies, the Owl Show blew past standard containment ratings. It was deemed unmeasurable, impossible to grade simply.

Usually, that meant rewriting rulebooks and spilling rivers of blood to reassess, but not this time.

Almost all deployed agents survived—one exception—and even the civilians were fully rescued.

At the center: a 15th Grade agent who'd rocketed up to fresh 9th Grade.

Brag-worthy, yet he downplayed it—said he'd just read prior agents' records and solved accordingly. Humble and polite to boot.

"Hard not to pay attention, right? Who wouldn't want to team up?"

"Then why the hostility?"

"Stars get envy. Tell me if anyone picks a fight. I'll handle it."

"How?"

"...Plenty of ways. I'm a hypnotist, remember?"

Nahee flashed a cryptic smile, like that was all she'd say.

"Exam's clean. They say overusing it melts your brain, but that's par for ability users."

Nahee cleared away the results paper.

"Shall we go see Tosami?"

"Sounds good."

They took the Containment Bureau elevator down to the ratmen floor—

Clunk.

The elevator stopped.

Hoping for a simple malfunction, but it felt like an anomaly snag. A sensation all too familiar now.

Nahee drew a mace from her coat.

Agents always carried self-defense anywhere, anytime—instinct after sudden anomaly pulls.

"Junior, power's out. See anything? No one hypnosis-worthy nearby, per my senses."

"Nothing on my end."

Just your standard tiny elevator.

"Usually bigger, but we didn't notice the shrink. Must have perception interference on elevators."

Perception Interference.

Making the unnatural feel natural—clouding judgment, senses, memory.

"How do we get out?"

"Don't open the doors rashly. Could lead anywhere unknown."

No rulebook or notepad in sight. Just isolated space.

"Come to think of it... Response Bureau elevators never had mirrors, but this one does?"

The elevator was cramped.

If you ignored the two mirrors facing off, reflecting infinite dimensions.

Flicker—

Lights out, then back on.

Hm?

"Senior. Something off at the mirror's end?"

"Yeah? Not seeing it yet."

"I'll check."

Infinite reflections, and me staring back from within.

Far in one dimension, a me in the same clothes—but face obscured. Nahee beside fuzzy too.

Flicker—

Lights off, on. A near-me, but off-puttingly imperfect, closer. Face faded.

"Junior. I see it now. Looks like me, but uglier somehow."

Nahee assessed quick.

"Closes in when lights go out—can't move while in sight."

Flicker—

Now maybe 13th dimension away, face mostly like mine. Not quite—small mole I never had.

The anomalies ignored gazes now, leaping dimensions toward us like hurdles.

"See anything, Junior?"

Explaining what he saw, Nahee gave the solution.

"Doppelganger. Kill one, it resolves. Take 'em out on approach?"

"Yes, Senior."

The charging doppelgangers halted mid-stride. Stared at him, freaked, then bolted back in panic.

"...?"

"Junior, what did you do? Why'd the anomaly run?"

"Nothing."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"...We'll go with that for now."

"You're always misunderstanding."

He could probably shove into the mirror. Chase right through bodies maybe.

Nahee yanked him back urgently.

"No. Who knows what happens inside. Mirrors seem like doors—I'll smash one."

Nahee mace-smashed a mirror. Cracks split the anomaly in two; it stilled.

Flicker—

Lights off, on—they were at the Response Bureau elevators.

"Simple anomaly. Easy takedown too. Head down again?"

"Sure."

"But seriously, what'd you do to those anomalies?"

*

While Jeongchan caught up on the mountain of management duties that had piled up for his squad, Yun Jonggu was reviewing meeting agenda items in the Operations Planning Room.

“Director! Is it true that new recruits who haven’t even completed a full year are barred from attending meetings?”

Gyeong-eun, presumed to belong to the Art Gallery, asked with bold confidence.

“Yes, that is correct, Miss Gyeong-eun.”

“I’ve never seen such a rule anywhere!”

“It is an implicit custom. Given the Response Bureau’s nature, a great deal of information is never committed to documents.”

The situation suggested she was a spy from the Art Gallery. He could not afford to hand over the Bureau’s confidential information.

“Aha. An implicit custom! It must be to block intruders from sneaking in! Someone suddenly pretending to be a new recruit, for example!”

“…….”

Yun Jonggu stared at her. Gyeong-eun was chuckling softly.

“Oops, my mistake. In truth, this is who I really am!”

She pulled a black agent ID from her pocket—one different from the standard issue.

“You’re from the Advisory Committee?”

“Yes. Though I am merely a servant.”

The Committee could not intervene directly in Bureau affairs, yet its members knew more secrets than most Response Bureau agents. Their identities remained shrouded in veils of rumor: an organization open only to a tiny handful of qualified retirees from the Bureau; a group founded by the Response Bureau’s original creator; or a chamber reserved exclusively for past Directors. The stories varied, but the mystery never did.

“You don’t have to believe I belong to the Committee! And even if I do, I have no intention of participating in the meeting!”

“That is fortunate. Committee or not, your participation would be troublesome. So why have you come?”

“I originally came to inspect the Operations Planning Room’s security. You know how it is—strange individuals keep crawling in one after another.”

“Which is why you disguised yourself as an Art Gallery affiliate?”

“Yup! I deceived quite a few people, but you and several others saw through it! I suppose my acting was too clumsy!”

At Gyeong-eun’s bright, energetic reply, Yun Jonggu let out a deep, rumbling laugh.

“A pity. I thought I might snag something substantial. Then why reveal your identity now?”

“I came to deliver the Committee’s message! They instructed me to inform you that the Rusty Canary has begun singing at a much higher pitch.”

Yun Jonggu let out a low groan.

“How loudly?”

“Louder than during the circus troupe incident!”

“More serious than expected, then.”

The Rusty Canary was a device that forecasted dangers of uncontrollable scale. Once it sounded, immediate action was the only correct response.

“Did the Prophet leave no further words?”

“She was watching the Search Battalion with great caution!”

“Understood. Thank you for the assistance.”

The Prophet, known to belong to the Committee, was trustworthy. Even Yun Jonggu had received her help several times in his youth.

“Information delivery complete! You work so hard, Director! Normally all of this should go straight to the Director-General!”

“The Director-General is perpetually occupied. Especially these days. He has taken many high-ranking agents with him.”

“Aha! He must be swamped! Where should I go now?”

“Proceed to the underground isolation room for the time being. Once your identity is verified, you will be released.”

“Roger that!”

After Gyeong-eun was placed in isolation, Yun Jonggu convened the meeting, swiftly reviewed the remaining items, and finally reached the main topic.

“What is the current damage status?”

The staff member silently presented the documents.

“Truly a peculiar organization.”

Their physical bodies could not compare to those of Bureau agents; in fact, they were slightly inferior to ordinary civilians. Yet the agents who encountered the Search Battalion had been unable to exert their power before them. The enemy’s organizational cohesion, powerful firearms, and weapons presumed to utilize anomalies had overwhelmed them.

As a result, the contamination of the rulebook had caused the return rate to plummet, with no signs of recovery.

“All-out war is out of the question.”

The lack of information was far too severe. The opposing organization’s combat strength could not be dismissed, and a single mistake could sweep away dozens of agents. If such errors accumulated, the Response Bureau would effectively face annihilation. They had to proceed with extreme caution.

“What became of the agents who previously entered the Search Battalion? I was told an entry method had been discovered.”

“Yes. The group of nine including Shin Yugeon, who attempted to verify the outcome, all successfully entered and subsequently went missing.”

“I see. Has anyone else attempted entry?”

“5th-grade agent Jang Yoel tried and barely returned alive. It appears they possess a method to detect high-ranking agents.”

“The information must have leaked. A 5th-grade agent is rare, after all.”

“That is not the case. Agent Jang Yoel left an exploration log stating there is a device specifically tuned to detect him.”

“Understood.”

Yun Jonggu scanned the records of other agents’ entry attempts.

“It seems agents below 5th-grade can enter.”

“Yes. However, they require a solid mental barrier. Many suffered extreme contamination during the entry process.”

“Are there many volunteers for the Search Battalion exploration? It would be ideal if we can select from them.”

“There are none whatsoever.”

“None at all… Is there a reason?”

“Rumors have spread, and above all, entrants must intentionally reduce their physical condition to civilian levels.”

It was a task agents who trusted their own bodies would naturally avoid.

“Heh heh—at least we don’t have to worry about factional balance. Do we have suitable candidates prepared in advance?”

“Yes. We have already secured them. The compensation conditions are somewhat difficult, however….”

“It doesn’t matter. Bring the list.”

“Here it is.”

“……That makes sense. He was demoted three consecutive grades from 6th to 9th, yet his strengths are undeniable.”

“He requested additional preservation treatment for his younger sibling as compensation.”

“Approved.”

“She recently underwent multiple examinations for reinstatement. Her mental barrier is at 5th-grade level, as expected of a hypnotist. Her judgment is also sound.”

“Was she not judged unfit?”

“Yes. Her mental state was deemed abnormal and placed on hold, but it should not impede mission performance.”

“What compensation must we prepare?”

“She wants reinstatement and body modification rights. She specifically requested reinforcement procedures for all six arms.”

“If she completes this mission successfully, grant her request.”

“Someone may need to serve as a sacrifice. He is the ideal talent for such a role. His movements are excellent for a Ratman.”

“And the compensation?”

“He demanded immediate physical recovery rights be prepaid for the mission.”

“That can be provided at once.”

Yun Jonggu did not bother checking the final name. He already knew. Every agent on the list was connected to that man.

“The last one is Jeongchan, I presume?”

“Correct.”

In a short period he had explored four anomaly spaces, not only clearing and dismantling them but dramatically raising the return rate. Before that, he had annihilated the Amryu Association and successfully completed several major operations. Speaking of his mental barrier had become tiresome; the exploration logs alone proved combat ability on at least a 7th-grade level. His calm handling of twisted situations showed he was also gifted at improvisation. Overall, he was at minimum 7th-grade.

For infiltrating an unidentified anomaly space, he was effectively the best card the Response Bureau could play among agents below 5th-grade.

“Unfortunately the proposal was already rejected.”

- I’m a little busy with work at the moment.

Jeongchan had declined politely. Normally they would have dangled exclusive Bureau resources as bait, but he desired nothing from the organization. He had no material greed, no particular problems or goals.

Moreover, although the sum was not enormous compared to his contributions, careful management had left him with enough money to last a lifetime. He had purchased a considerable amount of plumbing and broadcasting equipment, yet it was modest compared to the lavish spending of other agents. In truth, his continued cooperation with missions had been surprising enough.

This time they had expected a favorable answer, yet he refused again.

- Wouldn’t other capable agents ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠handle it? I have my own tasks.

Having said that, he completed the mission alone and once again accumulated achievements far beyond his current grade. To someone who had delayed his own promotion due to suspicion and factional scrutiny, it felt like a pointed reminder that he should have been promoted long ago.

Jeongchan has never wanted anything except promotion.

That earlier refusal—despite having gathered more than enough achievements—had been an indirect expression of displeasure when even that was withheld.

We must give it to him. The compensation was insufficient.

Yun Jonggu was a man who doubted even himself daily. Though suspicion toward Jeongchan had not been erased, an agent deserved promotions and rewards matching his achievements.

“Since he refused, I wonder what compensation would persuade Agent Jeongchan to accept this mission.”

“We have not properly rewarded him for everything he has accomplished so far.”

“True. Our resources have been heavily consumed by the upper echelons, creating shortages. What should we do?”

Watching the planning staff sink into deep thought, Yun Jonggu spoke.

“First, we will promote him to 7th-grade.”

His words prompted an immediate reaction from the staff.

“What? So suddenly? The timeframe is far too short. An agent with less than half a year of service reaching 7th-grade will provoke backlash.”

Some expressed concern while others voiced support.

“The sheer quantity of achievements may be lacking, but the quality is beyond comparison. Return rates below five percent approaching ninety percent—does that sound reasonable? He must be promoted.”

“Is there not a regulation? It is impossible for an agent of less than a year to reach a rank that normally requires twenty years of experience.”

“That regulation exists for the sake of efficiency and the organization. It is correct to promote Agent Jeongchan quickly and assign him to even more difficult situations. He is already handling missions above his grade.”

“He played a major role in the Amryu Association’s annihilation and the sewer conquest. He even established rules for the amusement park that others would still be exploring.”

After endless discussion, the majority of the Operations Planning Room appeared convinced. Originally promotions were decided by the Director-General, but in his absence the Planning Room Director could act in his stead.

“The Phenomenon Response Faction will not object?”

“Tell them to send their own people to the Search Battalion.”

The 7th-grade promotion was approved, along with monetary rewards for all previous missions, potions, and consumable supplies. It was a proper settling of accounts for everything he had done.

“This should be enough to open a conversation. I do not know what Jeongchan wants, but we will accommodate him as much as possible.”

When they contacted Jeongchan, his reply arrived promptly.

“What does he want?”

- Mission selection priority.

“Not a refusal right, but priority.”

“He simply doesn’t want to compete for missions?”

“…To be honest, the Status Quo Faction performed terribly during the Amryu Association headquarters exploration.”

- A Human Mask Zipper that can last longer.

“We have one, but the mental pollution is severe.”

“That need not be considered.”

- A large sum of money.

“The compensation is already generous, but add more.”

When they offered to grant everything, Jeongchan finally accepted the mission. The other agents who had been waiting for his decision accepted as well.

Once preparations are complete, we can deploy immediately.

“Oh. Suddenly 7th-grade?”

The mission was to obstruct the Search Battalion as much as possible and identify the cause behind their behavior. It had been a troublesome matter, so receiving the assignment was fortunate. The Response Bureau seemed to view the situation as a thorn in its side.

Various preparations were required before entry. In the remaining time before those preparations, I extracted information from a captured Search Battalion member.

It is possible.

Two humans sharing the same body and nearly identical thoughts could enter while pretending ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to be one person.

Shall I run a quick test?

I pressed the Human Mask Zipper onto Doppel-Jeongchan’s head and slipped inside.

“Not bad at all.”

It seemed I could enter the mission this way and emerge whenever necessary.