Playing Dumb Is the Best Policy
I tore up and down the hallway in high spirits, playing tag with Kim Bora. From her side of things it probably didn't look much like tag at all, but that was hardly my concern.
The researchers sat on their backsides all day; they were obviously starved for exercise. I was simply teaching them how to get some.
Heh heh!
I was feeling thoroughly pleased with myself when Kim Bora caught me at last. Of all the hallways I could have bolted down, I'd chosen a dead end, with nowhere left to run. She looked at me the way one looks at a mischievous child.
"Hana. If you run off again, I'm not letting it slide a second time."
Killing intent rolled off her in waves, and I couldn't manage a single word in reply. Oh, right—I couldn't talk to begin with. Fortunately, being unable to speak meant I didn't have to explain myself to Kim Bora.
Then again... if speech was out, couldn't I just write?
As if she'd read my mind, Kim Bora already had paper and a pen tucked under her arm. The department head had ordered her to teach me how to write.
She scooped me up against her side and hauled me back to the room. And I'd been enjoying the outside...!
The moment we returned, another researcher was there to greet me. Wasn't Kim Bora supposed to be the one assigned to me? I turned a questioning look on her, and she set me down before she spoke.
"Ah, I'm sorry, Hana. This one's such a little hellion it took me a while to track her down."
"It's all right. Everyone at the institute knows how hard you work, Bora."
"And with Haru helping handle Hana's education, I feel even more at ease."
The researcher called Lee Haru set several books on the desk with a solid thump. Curious what they were, I stole a glance.
Easy Hangul Even Kindergarteners Can Learn
Hangul Even Snot-Nosed Kids Just Pick Up
Hangul Even Babies Learn
I already knew Hangul perfectly well... The real question was whether I ought to let that show. If word got out that a life-form from inside a gate could read Korean, trouble was all but guaranteed. That was why I'd been careful, all this time, not to act as if I understood a word the researchers said.
Lee Haru sat me at the desk, pressed a pencil into my hand, and sighed.
"Honestly... I never imagined I'd be teaching Hangul to a life-form..."
She said it as if she'd never dreamed her life would turn out this way. Fair enough. You get hired as a researcher, and then the order comes down to teach me the alphabet. Anyone would sound like that.
"Hana's quick on the uptake. I think she'll learn fast."
How did she know...!
Kim Bora had spent so much time with me that she seemed to know me far too well.
I scribbled Kim Bora is a dummy across the paper with the pencil. They'd all be shocked now, wouldn't they? I'd heard that humanoid monsters who could speak existed in this world, but a humanoid monster who could write did not.
"Is this a drawing...?"
"Could it be some alien language?"
But the letters I wrote refused to turn into Hangul. In my head I had clearly written that Kim Bora was a dummy, yet what appeared on the paper was some bizarre scramble of English mixed with something that looked like Arabic. I'd definitely written it in Korean...!
It was as if a ghost were steering my hand. How strange. If I couldn't speak and I couldn't write, I had no way left to communicate at all.
Then a stroke of genius flashed through my mind. What if I typed it on a phone keypad, or a computer keyboard?! Of course I would think of that. I was a genius. I was just about to throw a fit and demand Kim Bora hand over her phone.
But...
"What a shame... If we could actually communicate, she might have been of some real help to humanity..."
"I know. If she could talk, Hana wouldn't still be here. The government would probably have her locked in a top-secret laboratory, tied down while they squeezed every scrap of information out of her. Then again, looking at her now, she might not know anything at all, so maybe it wouldn't come to that."
"True. No matter how familiar a monster from inside a gate becomes, it's still humanity's enemy, in a sense."
"Even so, with a form like Hana's, I think people could accept her. Though it would probably stir up a lot of trouble, don't you think? The higher-ups still don't grasp how important she is, but we do."
"If Starlight Guild's leadership recognized her, she'd have at least some protection... If we revealed her to the world now, another guild might snatch her away."
"I'll keep pressing the guild on just how important Hana is. As much as I can."
Kim Bora looked at me as she said it, her resolve set hard, as if she had sworn never to let anyone take me.
Having heard the two of them, I did not make the stupid demand that Kim Bora hand over her phone.
If I didn't want to be sold off to the government, I had to hide the fact that I could use Hangul, no matter what. I could reveal that I was able to speak later. Until then, looking after my own hide came first.
Back when I'd been dragged here, escape had been the priority. If I escaped now, though, I'd end up in the same position as a golden goblin—no different from a lump of gold rolling around out in the open. And I had no power to protect myself.
I'd just loaf around at Starlight Guild.
After the green tea steeped with a strand of Hana's hair passed its tasting with flying colors, the researchers of the Food Research Department—kept alive in little more than name, and yet still hanging on—tried it not only in green tea but in other drinks as well, preparing it every way they could think of.
It was a success again, of course. All they had done was dunk a single strand of Hana's hair into the existing additives, and the result transformed into a refined flavor you simply could not find anywhere else.
Drinking it was good for the health, too. Even so, the meeting concluded that they would make only one flavor—green tea—with Hana's hair added.
To the researchers, this new green tea was a strategic weapon capable of overturning the existing market outright. The weapon, however, could not be used freely.
Production was limited. On paper, the amount that could be harvested in a month was restricted, and they had to plan with that in mind.
Better, then, to put the spotlight on a single version and release that, rather than multiply the product line. It would also make it easier to seize a viewer's attention when the time came to advertise.
Focusing an advertisement on one product simply worked better than showing several versions at once.
Kim Sangtae, chief researcher of the Food Research Department, spoke.
"For this launch, let's begin by getting the advertising out. Promoting it thoroughly before release seems like the sounder approach."
"You mean buying ads from the press?"
"Yes. Our brand still isn't firmly established, and our competitors' brands are fortresses. Breaking through will require a certain amount of advertising."
"Understood. Then we'll just spread a little money around the news outlets."
Later, that money would serve as a decent shield against anyone who moved to attack the green tea Starlight Guild released. From the press's point of view, plastering them with cash was essential if their mouths were to stay shut against an assault from Seodong Foods, the reigning number one of Korea's green tea market.
The enemy clearly did not yet know how cutting-edge, or how good, their weapon was. It would probably take a month or two after the product launched before they caught on. Even if problems arose later, outlets that had already taken advertising money would find it more than a little uncomfortable to turn around and attack Starlight Guild's green tea.
And Starlight Food—the factory under Starlight Guild that had tasted this tea—never once entertained the thought of losing. They were sailing an ironclad warship, while the enemies outside were still handling boats knocked together from wooden planks. The odds of a well-gunned warship losing were zero. Losing this fight didn't even make sense.
"And before we advertise, let's distribute samples of this green tea throughout the entire Starlight Guild."
Every day, Starlight Guild dealt with countless guests and business partners from all manner of companies. Before the tea ever reached the market, word of mouth among those guests and partners would matter.
Products like this green tea sold far more to people running companies than to ordinary households. Even if a family bought some, it lasted so long in the cupboard that the household market held little appeal.
Didn't a company pantry need green tea and coffee? For busy modern people, finding a moment of ease over a cup of tea or a cup of coffee was simply part of daily life.
From Kim Sangtae's perspective, the only regret was the limited quantity. If there had been enough, he would have marched straight into the coffee market. The green tea market was far smaller than coffee's, after all. Drop just one measure of this ingredient in with the coffee beans, and the effect would outshine anything else...
If the chance came later, selling the ingredient on its own seemed like a good idea. It functioned purely as an additive, which meant it could be used in all sorts of ways. The guild, however, kept refusing, insisting the time was not yet right.
They called it a byproduct of an otherworld life-form, and at a glance it looked like some kind of fur clinging to something. They had not been told exactly how it was obtained, and that, at least, was a little disappointing.