Ep. 6 XIII (1)
It was the first time.
The first time I'd walked out of a Special Zone with my sanity intact.
Right up until the last moment, I'd been tiptoeing around, watching the barcode scanner for any sign of movement.
And yet here I stood, in what appeared to be some kind of aircraft hangar.
Transparent partitions had been erected all around me.
I was standing there, soul having left my body, when a whistle cut through the air.
*Fweeeet—!*
I turned my head and spotted armed figures beyond the partitions.
The moment our eyes met, they began cheering for me.
"You did it!"
"Long live Otter!"
"We love you!"
I stared, bewildered, at the applause from these strangers—then it dawned on me.
These were the Bureau's rescue team.
They'd deployed to save me, only to be ordered to hold position at the entrance.
So this was the entrance of the *Warehouse Store with Installed Traps*?
More to the point, what was with this fervent reception?
They were acting like I was some conquering general returning from campaign...
No, wait. Not *like* one. I actually was one.
I had walked out alive from a Special Zone declared inescapable, and on top of that, I'd found a way to hold out inside it.
That, in itself, was a victory—mine, and the Bureau's.
Only after realizing this did it finally hit me.
I was alive.
Bathed in a wave of relief, I looked out at the cheering crowd.
Standing there doing nothing felt awkward, so I waved out of courtesy—and an even bigger cheer erupted.
Well, it was a bit overwhelming, but given the circumstances.
I decided to allow myself a little self-congratulation, just this once!
* * *
The next day.
Unfortunately, my self-congratulation didn't survive even a single day.
"Your back's out."
I lay there pale-faced, listening to Kim Woo-in's diagnosis.
"If you try to get up, it'll feel like your spine's snapping in half, won't it? Your discs gave notice and staged a walkout. That's why."
"S-so what do I do now?"
"What do you mean, what? You wait until they come back, obviously."
"My shoulder hurts too, actually..."
"That's a muscle tear. You did a fine job hanging off that rope yesterday. Your legs hurt at all?"
"Ugh! Gah, ugh...!"
"Huh. It hurts."
As I writhed in cascading agony, Kim Woo-in clicked his tongue around the candy in his mouth.
I clenched my teeth to choke down the resentment.
To be fair, this doctor was guilty of nothing.
All he'd done was give my calf a light little poke.
It was me who couldn't handle even that much damage and got a cramp in my leg.
Me, who flailed in surprise and threw my back out a second time.
Somehow, my shoulder cramping up along with it was also me.
Every last bit of it was my own frailty's fault.
And yet the doctor was on the patient's side, after all—Kim Woo-in turned to Cha Si-eon standing nearby and gave him a piece of his mind.
"Go easy on him, will you? What is this?"
"It was not a situation that permitted restraint."
"So you do *this* to a person? Is today the only day that matters? You drag him back in there looking like this, he's dead in three minutes. What then?"
"I will be mindful going forward."
"Be more careful! I'm not saying don't use him—use him with an eye toward the long haul, damn it!"
Excuse me, but this conversation was a little strange.
No, a *lot* strange?
"Anyway, I'll set you up with painkillers, so get your IV today and wear a shoulder brace for a while. We'll assess the physical therapy situation in a couple of days. And as for your head..."
Kim Woo-in gently parted my hair to take a look.
"No real need to touch it, looks like."
Thankfully, the wound on my head wasn't very deep.
I'd figured it was serious, what with all the blood pouring down.
Kim Woo-in fiddled with my IV line a bit and then left the hospital room.
And the moment I was alone with Cha Si-eon, the atmosphere turned excruciatingly awkward.
After a long, heavy silence, Cha Si-eon muttered.
"It appears you truly do not exercise."
"Is that really something you say to someone bedridden?"
I shot back, incredulous, and silence fell once more.
Just yesterday, Cha Si-eon and I had been partners of a sort, syncing our breaths with our lives on the line.
But look at us today.
Me, carted in here because I couldn't get out of bed this morning.
And Cha Si-eon, identified as the culprit behind my body's mechanical failure.
Calling it workplace negligence causing bodily harm felt excessive.
But laughing it off with "well, we made it out alive" felt excessive too.
It was an ambiguous situation on every front.
"Since you'll likely be bedridden for a while, I'll conduct the debriefing here in abbreviated form."
Even in the middle of this, Cha Si-eon remained faithful to his role.
"As of yesterday, the *Warehouse Store with Installed Traps* has been redesignated the *Member-Only Warehouse Store*."
The Bureau, ever concrete and literal.
"The suspended exploration will resume, and your reward for contributions to the exploration will be disbursed within the month."
Incentives, thorough as ever.
"Additionally, regarding the end of your probationary period and your formal appointment, the General Affairs Division will hold a separate orientation."
Was that good news?
I genuinely couldn't tell.
Formal appointment. In other words, a full-time conversion.
It was undeniably a beautiful phrase, and yet it brought me no joy whatsoever.
If anything, the existential crisis I'd been putting off came flooding back like a tsunami.
I'd been hoping to simply fill out my probation period without ever getting dragged back into a Special Zone, and then be dismissed.
My hollow little hope had collapsed.
With that, the road home stretched infinitely further away, and my rotation through Special Zones was now official.
As I heaved a pointless sigh, Cha Si-eon hesitated, then spoke.
"And there is someone here to see you."
"Someone to see me?"
*Knock knock—*
The door rapped, perfectly timed.
Cha Si-eon opened it without so much as asking who it was.
Standing beyond it was a man in a Bureau work uniform.
Tall, with a kindly face—a man who looked to be in his mid-to-late thirties.
Who was this?
At the arrival of this stranger, I forced myself up into a sitting position.
The moment I did, the strikingly handsome man hurried toward me, flustered.
"No, please stay lying down. It must be hard to move."
Even his voice was gentle.
For a second I actually wondered if he was some kind of chaplain.
You know, like how the military has chaplain officers.
"Sorry to drop by out of nowhere when you're laid up. I'm Kwon Mu-seop, Head of Field Operations."
But the identity the man actually gave was completely at odds with my guess.
The Field Operations Division was the parent department of the Response Teams and the Exploration Teams.
Which meant this man was the superior of Cha Si-eon, Baek Sa-ra, and Gwak Jae-gyeom.
Wait, this soft-spoken guy?
"Ah, these are cookies. Have them when you're resting. Felt wrong showing up empty-handed."
And he brings *cookies* as a get-well gift?
That mild-mannered man, Kwon Mu-seop, extended his hand to me.
I absently took it—then froze in alarm.
What was with this intimidating mass?
It felt eerily similar to shaking hands with Cha Si-eon.
Startled by how heavy his grip was, I looked Kwon Mu-seop over again—and only then noticed it.
Director Kwon Mu-seop's ears...
They were cauliflower ears.
The storied hallmark of a fighter, so to speak.
Shaken by yet another reversal, I turned to look at Cha Si-eon.
And for some reason, Cha Si-eon was standing at attention in that corner, frozen stiff.
"I'm sorry my greetings are so late. I'd meant to deliver your appointment letter today and introduce you to the family, but hearing you couldn't move, I came by separately to pay my respects. It's been a while since I've brought someone new into the family, so I'm a bit awkward at this myself."
Kwon Mu-seop said it all with a warm, agreeable smile.
But between the lingering sensation of that handshake and Cha Si-eon cowering in the corner behind him, I couldn't quite manage a matching smile.
Watching my expression, Kwon Mu-seop spoke even more carefully.
"You were formally appointed as of yesterday, Seo Do-woon, but... I wasn't sure whether I should congratulate you."
Honestly, now I was baffled.
Why was he suddenly walking on eggshells?
His own subordinate, the psychopath, slapped me on the back with congratulations yesterday without a second's hesitation.
"I'd be grateful to receive your congratulations."
It wasn't remotely a congratulatory occasion, but I answered out of politeness.
At that, Kwon Mu-seop smiled again, visibly relieved.
"Hearing you say that puts my mind at ease. Thank you, truly, for everything. Thanks to you, Seo Do-woon, morale among our people has risen considerably."
"Morale?"
"So many of them had grown weary as the situation dragged on, but the mood inside has been unusually good lately. Thank you for setting an example for our agents. I was genuinely impressed by your resourcefulness and decisiveness myself."
Faced with this deluge of praise, I felt a bit embarrassed.
What was I supposed to say?
*You flatter me?*
*I was just trying to survive?*
As I was casting about for an appropriate reply, something else entirely tumbled out of Kwon Mu-seop's mouth.
"And I'm truly sorry."
*Excuse me?*
"Your circumstances are truly regrettable, Seo Do-woon. I apologize that we couldn't resolve the problem for you faster."
"P-please, I don't think this is something you need to apologize for, Director."
When Kwon Mu-seop even bowed his head, I hurriedly waved him off.
"What happened to me wasn't the Bureau's fault, and if anything, I've received plenty of help."
Kwon Mu-seop studied me with something between belief and doubt.
Then he let out another breath of relief and said.
"Thank you for understanding. I'd heard you filed a complaint a while back, so I was worried."
"A complaint?"
"They say you lodged one with Team Leader Cha when you came out of the *Railway Station*. Am I mistaken?"
I had no idea what he was talking about, so I cast my mind back.
Soon enough, I dredged up a conversation that could generously be called a complaint.
—Then why didn't you come rescue me?
—It was a response conducted according to protocol.
—What kind of insane answer is that?
—Uncooperative behavior may delay your retrieval.
—Are you threatening me right now?
Right.
There had been a time, not so long ago, when that topknot bastard wouldn't even give me his name.
And this was hardly a *complaint*—Director, your man Cha Si-eon is simply in the wrong here.
That's what I wanted to say, so I glanced sideways at Cha Si-eon.
He was still holding his rigid attention stance.
But the look in his eyes as he watched me was more downtrodden than I'd ever seen it.
Could it be that, if I played my cards right, I'd get to watch Cha Si-eon shatter completely?
"Ah, yes... I wasn't quite myself at the time. I got a little worked up."
Honestly, I *did* want to see it, but eh—I'd let it slide this once.
When I graciously backed down, Kwon Mu-seop waved his hands instead.
"Oh, I didn't bring it up to accuse you of anything. And by your standards, you were downright restrained. Some people wail, or grab the team leader by the collar and demand answers."
Grab by the collar? Whose collar? Cha Si-eon's?
That kind of bona fide anger-management issue actually exists?
While I stood there slack-jawed, Kwon Mu-seop dropped something even more unexpected.
"And it's true that our protocols are the kind that invite criticism."
...What is going on here?
Weren't you Cha Si-eon's superior?
Then why do you keep talking like a reasonable human being?
"Hm, you're wearing the face of a dog that just heard it speak. We're not the mindless machine you take us for."
Oh. Busted.
I covered my face, and Kwon Mu-seop smiled wryly before adding.
"To offer a little defense on our behalf—it's not that we merely watch for the fun of it. Our positions differ, but our hearts are much the same. When we see someone in danger, of course we want to help them, want to save them."
So you people *are* aware that you come across as cold-blooded?
Genuinely surprising.
No... it seems my expectations had simply been set far too low.
I'd assumed this was a den of psychopaths who'd sheathe their knives the moment protocol said so, people dying or not.
Feeling a touch guilty, I asked Kwon Mu-seop.
"The protocols are like that because of understaffing, right?"
"Yes, that's the biggest reason."
"Then couldn't you just hire more people?"
I had no idea what the going rate was in this world.
But even to a layman's eyes, the Bureau's hazard pay was abnormally high.
If they paid even half of that, plenty of people would sign up, surely.
Why on earth were they understaffed?
"We wish we could. But the situation doesn't allow it."
Kwon Mu-seop answered my question with a tortured expression.
"The government has forbidden the Bureau from expanding its headcount."
I see.
This was the Special Management Bureau, after all.
A world where ghost stories poured out endlessly, no matter how many you counted.