Welcome to the Special Management Bureau (3)

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"If I become an agent, would I be assigned under you, Cha Si-eon?"

"No. Mr. Seo Do-woon will not be assigned to a team. He will serve in an individual capacity."

"Then I'll consider it positively."

"Pff—! Hk, sorry."

Gwak Jae-gyeom burst out laughing at his own team leader and hastily clamped a hand over his mouth.

Half his face still damp with water, Cha Si-eon gave his team member a sinister glare. Gwak Jae-gyeom shriveled under it, and Cha Si-eon turned that same gaze on me.

But I was neither his subordinate nor his team member, so I could meet that stare with perfect composure.

Truthfully, I'd been worried. Worried that becoming an agent meant joining that team and serving under a vicious tyrant of a team leader.

It wasn't as if we had some grand history of bad blood, but still. I simply didn't want to end up under you. There, I said it.

That hesitation had been the only thing holding me back from choosing 'become an agent,' and now that the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠problem had resolved itself, I felt wonderfully relieved.

Cha Si-eon, on the other hand, looked distinctly stung.

"Do you perhaps have difficulty with communal living?"

"No, sir. I get along fine with people."

"If you require any accommodations, inform me in advance."

"No need. I'm quite comfortable already."

"Then review the contract."

I brushed off his jab with a pleasant smile, and Cha Si-eon, nursing his grudge, thrust the contract at me.

Blinding numbers, however many times I looked at them. Of course, if you thought of it as the price of my life, it wasn't exactly something to celebrate either.

But wait — Analysis Team 5 as my place of work?

"Didn't you say I wouldn't be assigned to a team?"

"Analysis Team 5 is not a department where Mr. Seo Do-woon will work. It is a department that will work on Mr. Seo Do-woon."

Seo Do-woon was a human being, so why was he appearing as the object of the sentence rather than the subject?

I was turning Cha Si-eon's words over in my head when my pupils started trembling.

"Team Leader, if you put it that way, he'll get the wrong idea."

Gwak Jae-gyeom cut in and explained again.

"Analysis Team 5 is the department investigating the phenomenon of you being dragged into Special Zones, hyung. Your name is in the work location field because you're their sole assignment."

"I see."

"You didn't misunderstand anything weird, did you?"

"For just a moment there, I thought I was about to be experimented on......"

I said it through gritted teeth, smiling. When I glanced at Cha Si-eon in that state, his expression suggested I hadn't been entirely wrong.

Ha. Look at this man's character.

"As you wished, Mr. Seo Do-woon, we included a probationary period to account for the possibility that this is mere coincidence. Your salary will be paid in full during probation as well."

Cha Si-eon explained without being asked.

But dragged into a Special Zone even once meant immediate full employment, while three months without one meant dismissal. Wasn't this a little too transparent?

"So the talent the Bureau wants is someone who gets dragged into Special Zones frequently, I take it."

"That is indeed the primary reason."

At Cha Si-eon's answer, I snorted a laugh.

Now I finally understood why he'd been so insistent in the hospital that I absolutely must not die.

To me, the phenomenon of being repeatedly dragged into Special Zones was a disaster. But to the Bureau, it was apparently a hidden chance.

They'd set up a dedicated department just to recruit me, after all.

It was pretty ridiculous — but from my perspective, keeping the wind out this way was better than nothing.

Which would be truly great, if only I could blindly trust this organization. What if they suck out the sweetness and toss me away like garbage?

"You may resign at any time."

Cha Si-eon spoke as I glared at the contract.

"The Bureau is the same as any ordinary company. If the work doesn't suit you, you're free to quit."

"......Are there penalties for quitting?"

"You'd forfeit your severance pay if you've worked less than a year."

At Cha Si-eon's answer, I gave a hollow laugh. Then I signed the contract.

"A wise decision."

"I certainly hope so."

"Dying on the clock is at least less of a rip-off than dying for free."

This guy really is hopeless to the very core.

Something swelled up in my chest, and I looked up at Cha Si-eon. That was when he extended his hand.

I stared at it for a moment, then resignedly took it. Though, hmm. I honestly couldn't tell whether what I'd grabbed was a human hand or a tiger's paw.

I suppose I should just give up on ever strangling this man's throat.

Holding my hand, Cha Si-eon spoke with a blank face.

"Welcome to the Special Management Bureau."

It was a welcome speech, for whatever that was worth.

When I'd been running for my life inside the Hospital that Hunts Humans, I hadn't noticed, but I'd actually taken quite a beating. Set aside the cuts and bruises from rolling over piles of rubble — there were shards of metal and stone embedded in my left shoulder and my calves, each wound taking five or six stitches to close.

And so I was granted a period of rest under the designation of 'standby duty.' Invalid leave the moment I was hired. Being a civil servant really is something.

"This is where you'll be staying, hyung."

Gwak Jae-gyeom guided me to my lodgings. But when we arrived, the place was far too grand to be called mere lodging. A spacious living room with several attached bedrooms — just a genuinely nice house.

Moreover, the living room displayed something I'd only ever seen in photos or on screen.

A riotously colorful banner, and beneath it, a mountain of gifts. In other words, the kind of scene you'd only ever see in tabloid articles about a celebrity's birthday.

"What is all this?"

"Oh, good question? Looks like the Otter Survival Headquarters put it together."

Gwak Jae-gyeom answered, looking just as surprised as I was. But — Otter Survival Headquarters?

Oh. The Save the Otter Campaign Headquarters......

"When did they even do all this? Did they sprint over the second the Administration Office mentioned I was signing a contract?"

"That organization actually exists?"

"Of course it does. Tons of members, and they're all dead serious about it."

"And here I thought you people were starved for manpower."

"That's exactly why they channel it like this. What little joy do people have left, worked to death on the job, unable to go outside, but at least well paid? They just roam around like zombies hunting for oxygen tanks."

This guy, smiling pleasantly while being lowkey brutal.

Gwak Jae-gyeom tore into one of the gifts as he talked.

"Ooh, is this handmade?"

That piqued my curiosity too. I approached imagining some kind of knitted doll — only for what emerged from the box to be a beautifully gleaming blade.

......What do I even call this? A dagger? A dirk?

"There's a message, too."

Gwak Jae-gyeom handed me a postcard with an otter clutching a knife drawn on it. Written there in neat handwriting:

"Is this supposed to be a joke?"

"It sure looks like one, but I doubt there's any malice in it."

Gwak Jae-gyeom shoved the gift carelessly aside, then crossed the living room and opened an inner door.

"You can use this room, hyung. If you don't like it, I'll switch you out. The one next door is mine."

Don't tell me you're living here too......?

I wanted to ask, but I scraped together my last shred of social grace and swallowed it. My feelings must have leaked onto my face, though, because Gwak Jae-gyeom grinned and shot back:

"Still better than living with our team leader, right?"

"That much is true."

At my speedy concession, Gwak Jae-gyeom chuckled even harder.

I looked around the room I'd be using. The space had everything one could need. There was even a huge window, and I headed straight for it.

It had taken me nearly twenty minutes to get here from where I'd signed the contract. But I'd only ever passed through indoor corridors the whole way — I hadn't set foot outside the building once.

So I opened the window to see what kind of place this actually was.

Looking out, the building's structure became clear at a glance. It was square in shape, hollowed out in the middle — so across from me and along both sides stretched ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠one continuous gray building, and far below sat a fairly wide garden.

When I tilted my head back, all I could see past the outer wall was blue sky. And strangely enough, for an early spring sky, it was remarkably clear and high.

That was when Gwak Jae-gyeom spoke.

"That's an artificial sky."

"I'm sorry?"

I looked at the sky again, stunned. That's artificial?

Apart from the season being slightly off, I couldn't detect a single thing wrong with it.

"Why would anyone build that......"

"For employee welfare. We're underground here, so people can't see the sky otherwise."

"We're underground?"

"Yep. You know how it is in movies — underground bunkers, that sort of thing."

Everything underground is a bunker now, is it......? If this counts as a bunker, then a tree leaf is an umbrella and a pebble is a garden wall.

As I gaped at the sheer scale of the Bureau, Gwak Jae-gyeom puffed up with pride.

"There's no facility in South Korea more expensive or more secure than this one."

That much I had to concede. The dignity and solidity radiating from the space before me were simply that overwhelming. And with that, it sank in all over again that I had stepped into a world that made no earthly sense.

The next morning, Gwak Jae-gyeom knocked on my door.

"Hyung, are you busy by any chance?"

Busy with what, exactly. I'd just been leafing through the Bureau's manuals after breakfast.

When I opened the door and stepped out, Gwak Jae-gyeom gestured over his shoulder.

"We've got a visitor. Want to meet them?"

It better not be the Otter Survival Headquarters again.

Guarded despite myself, I peered past Gwak Jae-gyeom's shoulder — and there discovered a woman of profoundly contradictory qualities.

Standing in the living room was a woman of rare beauty, radiating a gentle warmth. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠At the same time, she was a critical patient, bandages and adhesive strips stuck all over her body. Such a composed figure in such an absurdly battered condition.

I stared at her, wondering what on earth she did for a living, and the woman smiled brightly in greeting.

"Hello, Agent Otter."

I was half assuming she was from the Survival Headquarters when something caught up with me and I jolted, staring at her again. The woman facing me wore an eyepatch, leaving only one eye visible — and that eye curved in a gentle, deer-like arc.

When she saw that I'd recognized her, she smiled even more deeply.

"This is our first meeting without the masks. I'm Baek Sa-ra."

It was a rather abrupt reunion.