For a few days, Taeseong underwent simple tests and had various conversations with Oh Haeyoung.
To be honest, the tests were so easy they were barely worth calling “tests.”
According to Haeyoung, there were tests that all individuals were required to take, as well as tests tailored specifically to each person.
The tests Taeseong had been taking seemed to fall into the latter category.
Though the core tests were still pending, they couldn’t proceed without the designated personnel, as it was beyond the abilities of a novice administrator like Oh Haeyoung.
“What was the name of that test again…? Ah, MBTI test? Yes, it was something like that. I still don’t understand why they’d bother with such a pointless test.”
Haeyoung’s excited face flashed through his mind:
“Mr. Lee Taeseong! There’s no better way to understand someone’s inner self than this test! You have to take it!”
He had taken the test due to Haeyoung’s earnest pleading, but in reality, it was solely to satisfy her curiosity.
Naturally, the MBTI personality test wasn’t part of the formal evaluations conducted by the Tree organization.
It wasn’t until much later that Taeseong discovered this fact.
“Whew… whew…”
Taeseong exhaled heavily, having just completed 500 one-handed push-ups in a handstand position. Beads of sweat dripped from his forehead onto the floor.
His upper body, marked with mysterious scars, was a tapestry of well-defined muscle.
“Now I feel warmed up.”
For Taeseong, this was an adequate warm-up, leaving him in a refreshed mood.
“I’m a soldier, huh…”
Over the past few days, through his conversations with Haeyoung, he had learned something new about his past:
He was a soldier.
Rank: Captain.
His unit, however, remained undisclosed, even to Haeyoung.
And one more thing—
“Family.”
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t conjure their faces.
They were shrouded in a hazy mist, as if deliberately erased.
Were they truly his family?
The word family felt foreign as it left his lips.
But he had to return.
The singular thought lingering in his otherwise empty mind—
Perhaps it stemmed from a longing for his family.
Taeseong’s gaze shifted to the iron door.
“She’s late today.”
Though there was always some variation, Oh Haeyoung typically arrived around this time.
Yet, she was nowhere to be seen, even ten minutes past her usual arrival.
“Did something happen?”
As if responding to his concern, the iron door creaked open.
“Greetings.”
Standing there was an unfamiliar administrator.
He looked to be about 180 cm tall, dressed in a black suit and sunglasses, which obscured his facial features.
His presence exuded a heavy, inexplicable air.
Taeseong said nothing, merely staring at the man.
“…”
“…”
The silence grew thick and sharp, almost suffocating.
Surprisingly, it was Taeseong who broke the stillness.
“Who are you?”
“I am the newly assigned administrator.”
“What happened to the previous one?”
“The previous administrator…”
The man in the black suit trailed off before suddenly removing his sunglasses. Where his eyes should have been were only grotesque stitch marks.
Though his face was horrifying enough to make anyone’s heart sink, Taeseong’s expression remained unchanged.
Noticing this, the man’s lips curled into a faint smile as he continued,
“They’re dead.”
“…Dead?”
“Yes, it’s a rather common occurrence here. Especially among rookie administrators—it happens frequently. While it’s unfortunate, one must quickly move on to adapt to this place. The higher-ups don’t pay us so handsomely without reason. It’s all hazard pay, you see.”
“…”
“You seem quite surprised. But it’s nothing to be so shocked about. Do you know the percentage of first-year administrators who make it to their fourth year?”
Taeseong kept silent, his lips pressed tightly together. The administrator, however, continued speaking, unconcerned.
“Less than one percent. Which means the remaining ninety-nine percent either die or quit. Isn’t that fascinating? What kind of job has such a statistic?”
“Are you sure they’re dead?”
“Absolutely. There’s no mistake in such matters—”
At that moment, the iron door swung open again.
Peeking her head in, Oh Haeyoung alternated her gaze between Taeseong and the man in the black suit before speaking.
“Senior?”
“Uh… Oh Haeyoung?”
“What are you doing here?”
“This is my assigned room, isn’t it?”
Only then did the man in the black suit realize his mistake.
He began muttering nonsensical excuses before hastily fleeing the room, clearly embarrassed.
Apparently, he had confused Taeseong’s room with another, resulting in the mishap.
“Mr. Taeseong, that must’ve been shocking! I think my senior got confused and thought this was the other room. Hehe, sorry about that!”
“It’s not your fault. It’s your idiot senior’s.”
“Haha, he’s usually so meticulous… I guess he made a rare mistake today.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course! Anything!”
Haeyoung, as cheerful as ever, beamed at him.
“Is the administrator of the next room dead?”
“…”
As if to confirm his words, Haeyoung remained silent.
She tried to explain with an awkward smile, but she soon realized it was pointless, muttering bitterly with a resigned look.
“…Yes, that’s what happened.”
“Did you know them?”
Haeyoung nodded.
“They were my colleague from training.”
“A shame.”
“…It is.”
The black-suited manager’s earlier mistake had been the location of the room, but it seemed unlikely that the information he provided was false.
‘He said the probability of a first-year administrator becoming a fourth-year one is less than one percent. It’s safe to interpret that as meaning this place is extremely dangerous.’
Haeyoung, trying to change the mood, forced a bright tone as she raised her energy.
“Ah, Mr. Taeseong! There’s a new test scheduled for today!”
“A new test?”
“Yes! It’s a combat capability test.”
Taeseong was taken to a training ground specifically designed for the combat capability tests of humanoid entities.
While the facility boasted many different types of training areas, this one was built solely for this purpose.
“You can take off your blindfold and handcuffs now, Mr. Taeseong!”
Removing the blindfold and cuffs, Taeseong looked around. A spacious, open field greeted him.
All four walls were pristine white, and the floor was scattered with various weapons: swords, spears, bows, axes, and more.
“Do you see the weapons below? You can choose any one you like!”
Notably, Haeyoung was dressed differently than usual, wearing loose-fitting athletic wear instead of her usual suit. She wielded a massive axe in both hands, the only detail that seemed out of place.
“Am I supposed to defeat you?”
“Ding ding! Correct answer!”
To his growing disbelief, he was brought to this strange room, bound and blindfolded, only to now face the task of defeating his manager. Taeseong, already familiar with the absurdity of this organization, could only sigh.
“…Is this a normal part of your job?”
“Hehe, not really… but it happens sometimes. What can we do? Orders are orders.”
Orders are orders.
That magical phrase that crushes the spirit of every employee.
“So, it’s not technically your responsibility.”
“No comment!”
Taeseong sighed deeply.
“Ah, just to reassure you, you don’t need to worry about me at all! I may not look it, but I’m pretty sturdy! I was top-ranked in combat ability among my peers during training, so you’ll have to really aim to kill me to succeed! And don’t worry, we’ve got every safety measure in place. All injuries will be fully treated by our team!”
As she explained, Taeseong noted that the safety measures were primarily focused on Haeyoung’s well-being.
Nearby, four Delta-level agents and one Gamma-level agent were stationed, monitoring the situation from a secure room.
Despite being an Epsilon-level administrator, Haeyoung’s combat skills were said to rival those of a Delta-class.
She was also equipped with four pieces of Delta-grade gear specifically for this test.
“So, neither of us will die, is that correct?”
“Yes! Exactly!”
Concluding that following the rule was the easiest course, Taeseong quietly selected a weapon.
His choice was a longsword. It wasn’t a deliberate decision; his instincts had simply guided his hand.
As his fingers wrapped around the hilt, a sudden sensation coursed through him—a surge of energy paired with a flicker of memory.
An aged man with streaks of white in his hair swung a sword.
His weathered face bore the marks of time.
Rain or shine, wind or lightning, the man tirelessly trained.
Always in the same place, always facing the same direction, he swung his sword.
What did he seek to cut?
Time passed, and while much around him changed, the man remained constant, his routine unwavering. His graying hair turned snow white, and the boy who once stood by his side embarked on a journey of his own.
All that remained was the old, worn sword in his hands.
Still, the man never stopped.
Until finally—
“At last… I’ve finally cut it…”
The mountaintop he had been facing for decades split diagonally.
“Helena… Are you watching? I did it. I kept my promise…”
Those were his last words.
“Now… I’m coming to see you.”
‘Is that…my memory?’
The bizarre experience left Taeseong shaken. The memory felt too fragmented and alien to be his own.
Even the old man in the vision seemed worlds apart from him.
But one thing was clear: something had changed.
Gripping the sword, it felt strangely familiar—as if he had wielded it for decades.
Testing it out, Taeseong swung the blade through the air.
Whoosh!
Whoosh!
“Wow, Mr. Taeseong! You’re really good with a sword! As expected from a former soldier, you must have picked up weapon skills along the way! Did they teach you how to use longswords in the military?”
Of course not.
Her comment made him wonder if she was confusing the military with a martial arts academy.
Though he couldn’t pinpoint the exact cause, it was undeniable that the strange memory had altered something within him.
And whatever it was, he knew it would work to his advantage.
“You said I should fight as if I mean to kill you?”
“Yes!”
“I’ll try my best.”
The unspoken “to ensure you don’t die” was left hanging in the air.
