Ep. 6: XIII (2)
"The government has frozen our headcount, so we can't bring in new personnel."
Hmm…
When I kept my mouth shut, Kwon Mu-seop put on a rueful expression and went on.
"You're very honest, aren't you?"
"I'm sorry, what?"
"That's the face of a man watching a puppy get scolded."
Ah, busted again.
"Oh, no, it's just—I was trying to think through the situation."
"It's a fairly common one. The Bureau's been around for eight years now, and we've learned almost nothing."
"Did they cut your budget over poor results, then?"
"Ah, no, the budget's still generous. They only limit personnel. The higher-ups threw a fit when the Bureau's elite staff got wiped out."
Wiped out?
"Do you mean during the All-Out War—"
"Ah, so you already know."
Kwon Mu-seop nodded as I recalled what Gwak Jae-gyeom had told me.
"Yes, that's right. The Bureau originally had about fifteen hundred employees, and a third of them died in the line of duty back then. Mostly people from Field Operations and Research, at that."
…No. I didn't know at all.
A third of them died?
The damage was that severe?
"After losing that many people, the top brass drew a hard line and said enough was enough. That's why the Bureau is currently running at forty percent below its authorized staffing."
So their whining wasn't an act. They really were short-handed…
And I'd boarded a ship in its golden age, right before it went under…?
"Ah, but don't get me wrong—the government hasn't given up on responding."
Kwon Mu-seop hurriedly added, as if I'd once again failed to manage my expression.
"They simply adjusted the general policy. When Special Zones were first observed, they were treated as an unprecedented anomaly, and the response was genuinely aggressive. That's why we get to use this headquarters building at all."
Right—Gwak Jae-gyeom had said something like that too.
That nowhere in South Korea had facilities as expensive and secure as this place.
And honestly, that's what made it so absurd.
World-class facilities, yet the organization itself was starved for staff.
But now it made sense.
All of this was just the glory of a bygone era…
"Then things dragged on far too long, and in the middle of it all, someone kicked the hornet's nest and all hell broke loose. So the official guidance has shifted toward a more cautious approach."
Kwon Mu-seop was framing it as nicely as he could.
And I had to admit, it was a masterful turn of phrase.
We haven't given up on responding.
You couldn't more politely bundle together we're not actually responding properly and we haven't exactly thrown our hands up either.
More importantly—what on earth happened during the All-Out War?
Why would researchers take casualties while smashing a Special Zone?
No, never mind that for now.
"Do those higher-ups of yours never consider that they themselves could be dragged into a Special Zone?"
"They do. That's why they're being careful, in their own way."
"And how exactly do they stay careful?"
"They look at the statistics and lower their odds. Last month there were a lot of disappearances in Nowon-gu, so let's avoid that district. This month there have been lots of nighttime abductions, so let's not be alone after dark. That sort of thing."
"…?"
"Sounds like nonsense, doesn't it? I understand."
Had my face gone honest again?
Kwon Mu-seop muttered with a shadowed expression.
"But patterns and tendencies really do exist. Sometimes you can even see these things using their heads."
"Using their heads?"
Who? The Special Zones?
When I echoed the words in disbelief, Kwon Mu-seop nodded.
"Last year alone, an average of 12.3 people per day were pulled into Special Zones. And not once—not a single time—was it witnessed in real time. If people were really being taken at random, you'd expect far more abductions from crowded downtown districts in broad daylight."
Come to think of it, that was true.
Which meant people weren't simply snatched at random—they were being selected. The right people, at the right moments.
"How is that possible? Are the Zones not just spaces, but living things?"
"Honestly, I'd very much like to know myself."
…Come to think of it, I could sympathize with the higher-ups. You push an organization to deal with an anomalous phenomenon and for eight years the answer comes back honestly, we don't know. The fact that nobody's told them to clear out their desks is impressive, really.
"No hypotheses at all?"
"Oh, there are plenty of theories… They're just too embarrassing to say out loud."
How bad could they possibly be, that he couldn't even voice them?
When I stared at him in puzzlement, Kwon Mu-seop sighed and came clean.
"The most creative one was the 'Wrath of the Earthbound Spirits' theory."
"…Are you being serious right now?"
"I am. One of our researchers threw it out of nowhere, and somehow it caught the ear of some very senior people with a fondness for shamanism—"
Where exactly is this country headed?
"Ah, but it's not entirely baseless, either. Especially with the Type 1 Zones—it's an easy framework to fit them into."
"You mean Yongsan Station?"
"That one too, but honestly, all the Type 1s are like that. The 'Hospital that Hunts Humans' you visited recently is based on the university hospital in Jongno."
He meant the one by Hyehwa Station?
I'd never actually been inside—only passed by it—so I hadn't recognized the place at all.
But something happened there too?
"It was a hospital during the Korean War as well. Hundreds of wounded soldiers and civilian patients being treated there were reportedly shot dead by enemy forces, right on those grounds."
"At a hospital?"
"Yes. An unambiguous war crime. And the 'Warehouse-Type Mart' you went to yesterday sits on a site in Yeongdeungpo—one of the fiercest urban combat zones of the war. They say the stream running beside it filled up with blood and corpses."
As Kwon Mu-seop spoke, the picture in my head snapped into place on its own.
A hospital where a massacre had unfolded. And the "Moving Gun" hunting humans in that very space.
A street scarred by brutal urban warfare. And the "Warehouse-Type Mart" thick with gunfire and explosions.
At this point, it actually held together, didn't it?
Maybe the Special Zones really were the curse of the earthbound spirits…
"In fact, that's why we've held gut rituals."
"Gut rituals?"
I was half-listening until the word gut snapped me back to attention.
A gut? As in, the kind with bells and a shaman balancing on a knife blade?
"Yes. Since it only cost money, we figured we had nothing to lose—the higher-ups ordered a few large-scale ones."
"And the results…?"
"As you can see, none so far."
Kwon Mu-seop sounded regretful, and I let out a hollow laugh.
So these people had genuinely been desperate.
No—hold on.
I turned to look at Cha Si-eon.
But Cha Si-eon absolutely refused to look at me.
He kept his face blank and his head turned away, pointedly ignoring my gaze.
So I just asked Kwon Mu-seop instead.
"Was Team Leader Cha there when you held the rituals?"
"Of course. He was the youngest at the time, so he did a lot of the dirty work. He was so good at his job that we never had to worry."
"Wow… really…"
Now, what had he said to me before?
Something about how we needed scientific investigation, and what use was superstitious speculation?
I remembered exactly: 'that kind of correlation is an insult to the victims.'
Hey. You took part in shamanic rituals, and you tell me that…
It was absurd on every conceivable level, and yet I could also understand.
Bureau agents were elite personnel once hailed as national assets. They'd assembled the best of the best to respond to the phenomenon, learned nothing, and suffered near-annihilation. The top brass changed the guidance, saying they could no longer afford to waste personnel.
And so now they simply watch.
Not knowing whether this counts as management, or what any of it will lead to.
No—watching people die without even knowing what this is.
Today like yesterday, tomorrow like today.
Like a frog slowly boiling in a pot.
As a silence settled over us, Kwon Mu-seop said, in a voice heavy with gloom, "Anyway, that's the reality of our situation. Talking about it like this, I feel pathetic—like all I've done is confess my own incompetence… when I ought to be showing you something dependable."
And yet you're the most honest one here, sir.
My first impression of Kwon Mu-seop had been something like a priest.
But after talking with him, this was the feeling I got now: a big, able-bodied neighborhood fool who somehow made you feel sorry for him.
Maybe those dumpling ears weren't the mark of a fighter, but the scars of being everyone's punching bag…
"And yet, ever since you arrived, Seo Do-woon, morale among the staff has genuinely improved."
"I haven't really done anything, though…"
"You've done a great deal. Far more than you think."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"That's why, personally, I was hoping you'd serve out your probation and get dismissed. But of course, things never go the way I want."
I couldn't for the life of me follow what Kwon Mu-seop was saying.
Setting aside whatever this "great deal" was supposed to be—
He was hoping I'd get dismissed?
"Wouldn't it be better for the Bureau if I kept getting dragged in and out of Special Zones?"
"For the Bureau, certainly. Hoping for your dismissal is purely my sentiment. Entirely selfish."
Kwon Mu-seop said it with a white smile.
And with that, my common sense quietly reasserted itself.
Right. If you were trapped in a random lottery where anyone could die at any moment, this was the correct attitude to have.
Not like that fool Cha Si-eon, who just up and congratulated me.
"Still, since it's come to this, I'd better do my best. To be honest, I'd very much like your help. The higher-ups have shifted policy to maintaining the status quo, but our goal hasn't changed: to interpret the phenomenon and resolve it."
Kwon Mu-seop laid out his ambitions in a level tone, then turned the question on me.
"And what's your goal, Seo Do-woon?"
"Surviving."
"Why?"
What a profoundly deep question.
Does survival need a reason?
While I deliberated over my answer, Kwon Mu-seop smiled and pressed on. "Anyway, I think we understand each other well. We need you to resolve the phenomenon, and you need to conquer the Special Zones to survive. So I'd be glad to have you with us. And in return, I promise you'll never be left wandering that killing field alone."
Kwon Mu-seop's voice was as gentle as ever.
But his last words carried real weight.
True, the Bureau's support yesterday had been genuinely solid. So I had no intention of declining—only, the terms seemed almost too good, and that itself made me suspicious.
They weren't some generously giving tree; surely they wanted something in proportion to what they gave.
"I'd be grateful if you'd have me, though I can't promise I'll be as useful as you're expecting."
"I think you have plenty of aptitude. And your frail constitution is an easy fix, so don't worry about that."
I'm not frail, sir—it's just that everyone around here is unnaturally healthy.
If anything, I'm the one closest to the average.
"Besides, your situation itself represents an important opportunity for us. But let's save that conversation for later—for now, let's focus on survival. Staying alive comes first, after all."
Kwon Mu-seop closed with those words and extended his hand.
A moment ago I'd thought he resembled a neighborhood fool, but it seemed I'd need to revise that assessment.
Section Chief Kwon Mu-seop was, if anything, a sly old fox of a type.
The kind who worked people over with a smile and a pitiful act.
And characters like that had a high probability of harboring a viper's heart…
But well—if I had to take a hand, a fox beat a fool any day.
I took Kwon Mu-seop's hand.
Then he smiled and asked, "We're family now, so may I speak a little more casually?"
"Of course."
"Looking forward to working with you, Do-woon."
"The pleasure's mine."
If it had ended there, it would have been a heartwarming scene.
But then Kwon Mu-seop opened his mouth again.
"Do-woon."
"Yes?"
"You don't have a girlfriend, do you?"
…?