The Phantom Office
“There’s no company like that in our building.”
Kang Tae-san had come to a high-rise in Gangnam to visit the Smile headquarters, only to hear something absurd.
“I’m telling you, there’s a company called Smile on the fourth floor of this building.”
“There is a company on our building’s fourth floor, but it’s not called Smile. It’s not there.”
He even showed the employee the app on his phone, explaining that it was the company operating the cleaning app. All he got in return was the same answer: only a cosmetics company occupied the fourth floor.
“See for yourself. How could this possibly be a cleaning company?”
He went up to the fourth floor himself, but there was no company named Smile. When he asked an employee, they said the office had been occupied by the cosmetics company for over four years.
Then what exactly was the company I visited? It wasn’t some ghost company.
The entire floor belonged to the cosmetics firm. Even if it had been a scam operation, it was incomprehensible that not a single trace remained.
It was downright supernatural.
He had visited just days ago, and the address had been correct, yet Smile did not exist. It was as if the company had never been there in the first place.
In the end, Tae-san returned home empty-handed.
Once home, he flopped onto his bed and lay there for a long while, lost in thought. Finally, he turned on his phone.
On a whim, he searched for “Smile Company” again.
No search results found for “Smile Company.”
The address, the job postings, even the links he had seen before—everything had vanished without a trace.
He wished it had all been a dream, but the app was still running perfectly.
Unable to make sense of it, he slowly replayed everything that had happened.
He distinctly remembered receiving job training inside the headquarters building.
Why is my memory so hazy?
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t recall the faces of the Smile employees who had guided him or trained him. Like strangers from a dream, only vague silhouettes remained.
Normally, Tae-san would have calmly looked for something to do no matter how troublesome the situation. But now a hot wave of frustration surged inside him.
He shot upright in bed and almost hurled his phone to the floor in a fit of impulse.
“Agh, damn it!”
At the last second, his frugal nature stopped him. The remaining contract period on the phone flashed through his mind.
“Why has my mood been so all over the place lately?”
He had a guess. It was probably a side effect of the stalker’s memories mixing into his consciousness.
No matter how good the pay was, if this kept up, he wanted nothing more to do with cleaning requests through Smile.
Tae-san forced himself to calm down and began untangling the knot in his mind.
The money was deposited normally, and withdrawals worked fine. Plus, the Smileage…
That’s right—Smileage.
Recalling that he had received Smileage along with his pay right after finishing the cleaning job, the welfare mall attendant’s words came back to him.
“Please feel free to use the items in the welfare mall. I’m sure they’ll help.”
Tae-san found the “Welfare Mall” menu in the app and tapped it immediately.
A familiar-looking shopping page loaded, followed by a pop-up with usage guidelines.
Only Smileage can be used in the Welfare Mall.
Weekly hot-deal items are updated every week.
All shipping is free.
While reading the ordinary-looking notices, Tae-san tilted his head at the fine print at the bottom.
If you sell Welfare Mall items to outsiders, you will receive severe punishment from headquarters staff. Please take note.
“Severe punishment? That sounds pretty ominous.”
Contrary to the ominous warning, the mall itself looked completely ordinary—your average shopping site design.
The categories were standard too: [Health Care], [Living Furniture], [Cleaning Supplies], and so on.
Given that it was a cleaning company’s app, there was a dedicated cleaning supplies section, but nothing else stood out.
The banner displayed the weekly discount list.
True to his frugal nature, Tae-san’s eyes went straight to the item with the steepest discount—75% off the Memorial Box.
When he tapped the product, the details page loaded.
Memorial Box
L Size (White)
W1,000 × D600 × H1,800 mm
Sale Price: 2500p → 625p
Simple color! Generous size! High utility!
- Large capacity perfect for bulky items or unwanted memories.
- Made with high-grade FF material offering excellent anti-psychic properties. Safely stores anything.
- Manufactured directly by cleaning company Smile.
At first glance it looked like an ordinary storage box, yet strange phrases were mixed in—FF material he had never heard of, the claim that it could store “memories” instead of objects.
Most eye-catching of all was the line at the very bottom.
Highly effective for stress management after cleaning “experiences”!
It seemed like exactly the kind of item that could help with the post-cleaning stress he was currently suffering. But even with the discount, it cost 625p, while Tae-san only had 180p in Smileage.
Even if I do more cleaning to earn Smileage, there’s no guarantee it’ll actually help my current state.
Everything felt uncertain. The only way to test whether the items really worked as described was to buy one and try it.
I’ll just have to purchase something and see.
Tae-san picked the cheapest item within his 180p budget.
Oronamin F
1 Box (10 bottles)
300p → 165p
From head to toe!
Responsible for your vitality!
Contains large amounts of Vitamin F!
- Oronamin F is not registered with the Ministry of Food and Drug Safety, but it is highly effective for restoring stamina after cleaning.
- Effects last 24 hours after consumption.
- Manufactured directly by cleaning company Smile.
It looked like an ordinary energy drink, except for the mention of Vitamin F. Normal vitamin drinks usually contained A, B, or C. At most, D, E, or K.
Does Vitamin F even exist?
The question lingered only a moment. Without further hesitation, Tae-san bought the cheapest option—Oronamin F.
Purchase complete. Your item will be delivered shortly.
Remaining Smileage: 15p
He had barely spent five minutes browsing the rest of the mall when—
Ding-dong.
The doorbell rang.
It was a weekday afternoon, four o’clock. No one usually visited at this hour, so Tae-san cautiously called toward the door.
“Who is it?”
No answer came from outside.
He opened the door a crack. A single delivery box sat alone on the floor.
The label read:
Sender: Smile Welfare Mall
Recipient: Kang Tae-san
Unable to believe it had arrived so fast, he picked up the box. It had decent weight.
“Already here?”
He hurried back inside, tore open the package, and found ten bottles of Oronamin F exactly as shown in the mall.
He took one out and twisted off the cap with a crisp click. A pleasant scent of apple and lemon rose to his nose.
It looked like an utterly ordinary drink.
After a brief hesitation, he remembered that everything that had happened to him lately defied common sense anyway.
The only way to know was to drink it.
“Here goes nothing.”
The cool fizz and fruity aroma filled his mouth. He downed the entire bottle in one go, savoring the sensation as the liquid traveled down.
Then—
“Huh? What the—?”
His eyes widened.
The heavy gloom that had been pressing on his head for days vanished in an instant. His usual bright, positive energy returned.
That wasn’t all. Vitality surged through his entire body.
“So it was real…”
The effect was supposed to last twenty-four hours. With ten bottles, he would be free from mental and physical fatigue for the next ten days.
But that also meant the mental depression would return after ten days.
He would need a solution by then. Only one thing came to mind right now.
“I need to buy the Memorial Box too.”
He still didn’t understand the principle, but if it could really store “unwanted memories,” it was something he absolutely needed to live normally again.
However, the discounted price was 625p. He would need at least 610 more Smileage within the week.
Anyway, I need to earn money too. I’ll just do more cleaning for now.
If he could eliminate the nasty side effects, the cleaning pay from Smile was quite lucrative. And if he kept accumulating Smileage, he could buy all sorts of miraculous items sold only in the Smile Welfare Mall.
While he was busy planning his future, his phone rang.
An unknown number appeared on the screen. Thinking it might be from Smile, he answered cautiously.
“Hello?”
—Hello, is this Kang Tae-san? This is Assistant Director Choi Song-ah. I helped with your audition at the studio earlier today.
It was the assistant director from H Studio he had met that afternoon.
“Ah, the person I saw earlier. How did you get my number?”
—Kang So-yeon, who submitted the audition application, mentioned you were her brother, so I asked for your contact information. I hope you don’t mind.
“I see. What can I do for you?”
—Actually, the director really wants to meet you again. Not So-yeon—you, the actor.
“Me? Not my sister?”
—Yes. One of the director’s acquaintances is producing a drama, and he thinks the role would suit you perfectly.
The sudden offer made Tae-san’s expression harden. He suspected that his performance that afternoon had drawn attention instead of his sister’s.
“Um… I’m not actually an actor. I was just pretending for my sister earlier.”
—Pretending? We were all completely captivated by your acting. Please don’t say that. Come in for the drama audition—
Assistant Director Choi Song-ah desperately tried to persuade him. She knew Director Kim Hoon-sik’s persistent personality all too well. If Tae-san refused, the director would surely hound her to call again.
But Tae-san, who had never had any real interest in acting, remained lukewarm.
It wasn’t that he disliked acting itself. It was just—
If it’s just a minor supporting role… the pay probably isn’t much, right?
He had seen it on TV—unknown bit-part actors juggling two or three jobs just to survive.
“What drama is it, and what role? Also, how much is the pay?”
—Ah, I’m not sure about the details either. I’ll check and get back to you.
Anyone with zero experience like him would obviously be given a tiny role with pay nowhere near as good as cleaning work.
“No, thank you for the offer, but I don’t think I can. I’m sorry.”
—What? Wait, please— This could be a much bigger opportunity than you think, and for you as an actor—
“I’m sorry. I’m busy with other things. I’ll hang up now.”
Without a shred of regret, Tae-san ended the call and opened the cleaning app again.
Right now, finding cleaning jobs was far more urgent than anything else.
“Let’s see… Are there any decent requests?”