11. Netherworld Market (1)

I'd finished work. I dragged myself home, utterly exhausted. It was nearly eight o'clock.

All I wanted was a hot shower and to collapse into bed.

Unfortunately, there was no time for rest.

I had a report to read.

Call it working from home.

1. Preface

This document was prepared in anticipation of the containment failure incident on the day of Mirae Co., Ltd.'s new recruit open recruitment exam.

To put it bluntly, the company failed.

An unidentified anomalous organization intervened in the new recruit exam, and all this disaster stemmed from them.

…….

The report started with a tale of despair right from the preface.

Just the kind of fact I was dying to know.

A chill crept up my spine. I shuddered and forced myself to keep reading the document.

Prior detection of spies planted by the unidentified anomalous organization was impossible.

Because in every iteration, different people appeared at different times in different ways.

However, their appearances were limited to after ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the new recruits were selected.

Also, the new recruit exam passers were not the industrial spies.

I didn't want to hear this brutal story.

Especially since I had to stop it.

My stomach started to ache again.

The estimated damage scale of the incident was as follows.

All 1,731 new recruit open recruitment applicants: deceased.

All 17 exam proctors: deceased.

All 35 special duty team members and 6 cleanup special duty team members deployed for incident resolution: deceased.

Anomalous phenomenon T-21, commonly known as Dangsan Dowon, contaminated in anomalous properties and completely destroyed.

Mirae Co., Ltd. HR recruitment system collapsed.

…….

I was speechless.

Nearly 2,000 people dead? All those lives hanging on my hands?

The stomach pain intensified. The ache spread to my chest.

Even though their deaths didn't really hit home yet.

One person's death is a tragedy. Ten deaths is a lamentable accident. A hundred is a national disaster.

A thousand? Two thousand on top of that?

That's just a number. A figure to jot in a report and pass up the chain.

And then think to yourself,

'This was the best we could do. Whew, tough day at the office. But it's handled, so time for dinner.'

Maybe that's why it felt so alienating.

Like I wasn't human anymore.

'God help me.'

I buried my face in my hands and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rubbed. I barely felt the skin. My breathing was shallow.

"Haha……."

A hollow laugh escaped.

"Hahahaha……."

My head screamed impossibility.

"No way."

That's right.

I was overwhelmed.

…….

Still, I didn't stop reading the document.

Not even under the extreme stress that made my hair stand on end and electricity crackle through every brain wrinkle.

The reason was simple.

'Cleanup Special Duty Team 6 members: all deceased.'

Looking back, to survive, I had to wrap this up successfully no matter what.

And I was the type who could do just about anything to stay alive.

Finally, I finished the document. At the end of the report written by "me," or "us," these words were scrawled:

All attempts so far have been meaningless. Neither force nor any other method led to victory.

But someday "I" will succeed. We leave this report behind with faith in that, then die.

Remember the principles.

If you can, do it.

If you can't, don't.

If you must, do it.

This task is doable. A method exists, and the future is open to us.

Oh Sung-jin always wins. And this proposition is true.

I analyzed the report. Devised countermeasures. Roughly grasped what anomalous phenomenon I had to face.

And as a result, I vaguely figured out what item I needed to obtain.

My thoughts organized. I lifted my fingers from the keyboard. Time: 9:05 PM. The alarm I'd set generously went off.

I turned it off without hesitation.

The webpage's white glow pushed back the room's darkness a bit. The mouse cursor blinked in the address bar.

The referral code was already entered. Just hit enter when time came.

'Enter the code in the address bar to connect? Suspicious site all around. But...'

While I pondered, time hit 9:09 PM.

I sighed.

What could I do? To live, I had to.

Time to dig into Department Head Kang Mi-young's death.

I clicked enter.

The screen went black.

"……?"

Clicked enter again.

Still black.

I mashed enter. No sign of switching.

And then.

'What the hell is that noise?'

A violent sound erupted from the PC tower.

An ominous noise. Like a machine malfunctioning somewhere...

Piiiiiing—.

The power-down whine that saps your strength.

The monitor died. The room plunged into darkness. Why do foreboding thoughts hit exactly then?

"……What?"

I pressed the power button. No response. Broken, probably.

Mashed power. Still nothing. Long press with thumb, rapid taps with index—nothing.

'...Screwed.'

That very moment.

Pop—! The monitor lit up.

I hurriedly checked the screen. It was bright blue. Blue screen of death.

'Anything anomaly-related...'

My strength failed again. That moment.

Pop—! The screen flickered.

Still bright blue.

But not a blue screen.

'This is...?'

With that anachronistic design, the underworld's hidden flea market, Netherworld Market, revealed itself.

'Connect first.'

I rubbed my fatigued eyes and hit enter.

A message popped up immediately.

…….

This flea market was surprisingly user-friendly. Hard to access, so they compensated with convenience?

I moved the mouse and entered the Beast Path Flea Market board.

Fresh posts popped up, hot off the press.

I clicked one experimentally.

==========

==========

I squinted.

'This...'

Knows about the new recruit open recruitment?

……Looks like an insider. Pretty high up, too.

'No wonder they were obsessed with catching industrial spies...'

I shook my head and checked the comments.

To gauge the board's vibe.

I hit back.

...Got the vibe: brutal, full of trash talk.

I surfed the board more.

Confirmed that items and info here were definitely anomaly-related.

'Saw a post selling a Screaming Curse Doll. Even fabric scraps from a normal suit.'

The comments on it didn't doubt the item's effects.

'Other items' comments showed no skepticism either.'

So, unless it's a total scam, risk of getting ripped off seemed low.

'Search first.'

Keyword: drug. Category: for sale.

Unlike before, far fewer posts scrolled up.

I clicked the latest post. Photo of white powder in an envelope.

'...Wait, that's drugs!'

Hastily hit back. Felt guilty, glanced around.

'Why sell this crap!'

Black market indeed? Trading even this...

Resolved to be more careful, clicked the next post.

==========

==========

This... was ambiguous.

Didn't seem right, but...

'Normal hair loss meds. Wait, selling hair loss meds is surprising enough...'

Checked balance. Would strain living expenses, but affordable.

'Then not it.'

'Me' implied couldn't buy due to lack of funds, not sold out.

'Anyway, ask Section Chief Jo tomorrow. He's the expert here.'

...Rude? Whatever.

For some reason, I felt like acting friendly around Section Chief Jo.

Cheeky or favorable, either way.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

'Focus. Anyway...'

Hit back, clicked the last post.

==========

==========

White pill photo aside, zero info. I checked comments right away.

…….

Checked balance again.

Added the bonus pay: 15 million more.

Exact match.

'Spend 50 million on this crap?'

Future me must've been utterly insane.

'...Send PM. Let's see... "Want to trade." That work?'

And maybe current me too.