Ep. 9 — Flushing Out the Fakes (9)

We climbed up onto the empty stage.

When we parted the curtain and slipped behind it, half-finished Fake Humans were there to greet us.

The woman caught sight of them and nearly went into hysterics.

"Mom……!"

I hastily clamped a hand over her mouth before she could scream.

She flinched and stared at me, and I held my gaze on our surroundings for a moment before slowly shaking my head.

She nodded back. I gradually released my hand.

We were currently escorting the Fake Humans to our designated escape point.

That place was none other than backstage.

The backstage area, where the stage rigging lived, was every bit as deep and wide as the auditorium itself.

And the ceilings rose far higher, too.

While the theater entrance and lobby were a modest three stories, this rear section soared a full six.

What's more, the center was hollowed open, with only railed corridors stacked tier upon tier along the walls.

At the heart of it all, a steel lattice of catwalks and scaffolding for hauling stage sets was tangled together in a gnarled web.

Had that been all there was, the place would have been nothing more than a desolate construction site.

But hanging from that structure like ripe fruit, bunch upon bunch, were Fake Humans — a conservative estimate put them in the hundreds.

No, fruit ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was being generous. The scene looked far closer to hundreds of corpses dangling by the neck.

The most horrifying part was that they were awake, eyes open, watching us.

They kept staring — as if trying to learn human behavior.

As if memorizing what became of their predecessors who'd been found out.

"Hoo……"

Swallowing my tension, I walked between the dangling legs of the Fake Humans.

The others followed behind me, each dragging their share of the fakes along.

Deeper inside the stage, the shapes clinging to the steel grew even more grotesque.

Those ones hadn't yet finished taking on a human form — they looked like crudely kneaded lumps of flesh.

Their clothes had even fused into their skin, as if someone had blended man and garment together and let the mixture set.

Their shapes, their overwhelming numbers, their unblinking stares — every last bit of it raised the hair on my neck.

The one mercy was that they didn't hunt here.

The reason being: this was their incubation chamber.

In exchange, a danger of an entirely different order still lurked in this place.

I stole a glance up at the ceiling.

A dizzying height of darkness overhead.

They would almost certainly be hiding up there, in that black.

Alpha and Delta.

The entities even the Bureau had failed to capture, barely managing to seal in here.

Apparently they mobilized the instant anyone caused a ruckus on stage, so we held our breath and moved for our lives.

At last we reached the stairwell.

Up the vertigo-inducing railing to the third floor, and there stood the door.

When we opened it, a lush green field of grass spread out before us.

And at its center stood a figure in a black uniform, face veiled in black cloth.

"Single file. One at a time."

At my words, the person at the front took a Fake Human's hand and stepped up to the figure in the old-style uniform.

It, which had been standing as still as a mannequin, drew its gun.

Crack—!

It shot the Fake Human through the heart, and the person holding its hand vanished in the same instant.

Once today's group left, everyone who'd arrived before me would be gone.

Except for the skull-masked bastards, anyway.

"Thank you. Really — thank you so, so much."

Among those departing today was the woman who'd told us all about this place.

She thanked us through her tears, then fished a card out of her pocket.

"You have to come by sometime."

It was a coupon for a little café.

"Coffee, pie, whatever you want — it's all on the house until the day I close my doors. Even if you don't really need it, please come at least once. And bring plenty of friends."

"I will. I'll drop by."

When I nodded, she smiled and waved.

Crack—!

With that single gunshot, she, too, went home.

"I'll pay you back. Now get the hell out."

It was right after I'd seen the latest group off and come back.

Up in the third floor, the bear suit had pulled me aside and blurted this out the moment we were alone.

"Pay back what? The water money?"

"Yeah. I'll give you the 100 million back, so just leave. You've done your part already, haven't you?"

A bratty, petulant whine — irritation and pleading swirled together like a spoiled little kid. Honestly, it was about time he started whining.

Counting everyone who'd gotten past him and walked out the door: nine people so far.

Even at 30 million won a head, that came to 270 million won.

That had already blown well past what I — or more precisely, what the Bureau — had spent on food supplies.

And the losses were only going to keep mounting from here.

He'd apparently finally done the math and come crawling, but I shut him down in one stroke.

"No thanks."

"Wha— why not!"

"Why? Because you're the one who should pack up and go somewhere else. You're not making any more money here."

"Don't talk shit. Fine, then, I'll give you 130 million!"

"Before I showed up, you were raking in hundreds of millions a day here. And you're offering a measly 30 million?"

I shot back not because I intended to haggle, but because I was genuinely dumbfounded.

This idiot couldn't even negotiate.

I knew exactly how much money that bastard had been shaking down from this place.

So who in their right mind would take 30 million?

When I stared at him in disbelief, the bear costume turned on me and started yelling instead.

"It's not like I ate all of it myself! Fine, then — 150 million. That's my entire net worth right now. I'll throw in 50 extra, so please just leave, huh?"

"Hey. Is that money actually yours?"

"Then what am I supposed to do?! I have to pay my tribute fees too! Why do you even care — stop sticking your nose in!"

The bear costume stomped his feet against the floor in a tantrum.

And I latched onto a word that had slipped past in the torrent.

"Tribute fees?"

"That's right! I paid to be here too! I've been handing over 60 million won a day to the hyung who ships me the goods! I only just started making money, and because of you I've lost everything again!"

Ah. So that explained why the revenue model around this fool had seemed a little off. There was a planner somewhere else, and this guy was just the on-site manager.

"So save me……. Please, hyung. Save me. You were rich to begin with — you can go out there and live well, can't you……"

He even sank to his knees.

There was no need to provoke someone this thoroughly groveling.

But I was more incredulous than angry, and it was pity, more than rage, that made me ask:

"Did you ever save anyone?"

"……"

"What you're saying right now — 'save me' — just means you want me to let you squeeze these people all over again. So why exactly should I grant that request?"

"F-fuck…… you smug son of a bitch…… a jobless bastard who just happened to be born to good parents…… If I'd been born like you, I wouldn't be living like this either, you [expletive]."

"Don't compare. Talk about yourself. What if someone born exactly like you is living a perfectly decent life right now?"

"Fuck! Then what am I supposed to do?! I'm about to die here! If this falls apart, I'm actually dead!"

"Then cut your losses. Walk away."

"What?"

"Quit the dangerous business and go live an honest life while you still can."

"……And if the hyungs come after me, that's on you?"

"That's on you. You stepped on that landmine yourself."

"You little piece of shit……"

Watching the bear costume flare back up, I let out a sigh.

"Sure, you had a rotten environment. You always do. But did you have literally zero choices?"

"……"

"The only reason trash like that latched onto you is because you were sitting in the garbage dump. So at least try to climb out of it first, and then ask someone for help."

The bear costume said nothing more.

Thanks to the mask on his head, I couldn't tell what face he was making.

The bear head just looked pitifully, absurdly cute.

Day six.

Ding-dong— ding-dong—

Another performance had begun.

With a stale biscuit clamped between my teeth, I stayed on the third floor again today and looked down at the first.

Choi Sang-eun and the crowd below moved with easy, practiced familiarity now.

The bear costume, meanwhile, was alone again today.

Apparently he'd stashed his skull masks back at their base for fear Choi Sang-eun might talk them around — but beyond that, he still seemed to have no plan whatsoever.

Troublesome, that.

The escape routine for the National Theater was more or less locked in by now.

The early arrivals teach the latecomers the way out, then leave.

Once stays get shorter, food supplies won't even be necessary anymore.

Just skip a day's meals. No big deal.

I still had plenty of the bottled water and biscuits I'd bought, so those could be stockpiled as an emergency cache.

As long as that circulation held, escaping the National Theater wasn't difficult at all.

The one problem left was that bear.

Frankly, I'd assumed he'd clear out on his own once the money dried up.

He'd made a fortune over the past month — I figured he'd leave without a second thought.

But hearing him go on about tribute fees, it seemed even that bastard couldn't move freely.

Worse, with his income cut off, the tribute expense was piling up by the day.

When you corner a creature like that — man or beast — it turns vicious. So how was I supposed to drive him out……?

Just yesterday, Cha Si-eon had already warned me.

Yeah. From what I could see, that was true.

So I'd asked Cha Si-eon what they planned to do about the bear.

Can't do this, can't do that.

Give it a rest, you doomed bureaucrats……

What on earth was I supposed to do?

Truthfully, it was about time I left, too.

By Bureau regulation, the maximum safe stay inside a Special Zone was nine days.

Linger past that limit at your own peril — contamination could begin.

Besides, I couldn't stomach another bite of these biscuits.

I hadn't done anything all that grand here anyway, so if only that damn bear were gone, I could hand the rest over to whoever came after me and walk away with a clear conscience.

Of course, if that bear went berserk, I didn't exactly have a silver bullet for that either.

Hmm. What to do?

I chewed on another unappetizing bite of biscuit and mulled it over.

Ding-dong— ding-dong—

Another performance had ended.

The sorting went off quickly, too.

"Two humans, three fakes!"

After relaying the tally to me, Choi Sang-eun started up toward the third floor.

Then the bear costume suddenly began slinking toward the crowd.

"Wh-what are you……! What do you want?!"

Choi Sang-eun snapped to alert, but the bear costume simply brushed past him.

Then, standing before the woman behind him, he pleaded earnestly:

"Ma'am, would you come over to our side? We've got way more food over there."

Unbelievable. Even now, this guy……

Incredulous, I turned to look at the woman the bear costume was pestering.

The woman who'd made this fool look like a genius was dressed in a beige cardigan and a long skirt.

Even her outfit gave off a graceful, pretty ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠impression — though from up here, I couldn't make out her face.

But just then, the woman happened to look up toward me.

Our eyes met, and the biscuit slipped right out of my mouth.

……Ms. Baek Sa-ra?