Taeseong, who had officially become an employee of Tree, moved out of the temporary quarantine facility and into a dormitory for staff. At last, his grueling life as a quarantined entity was over. It was something to celebrate, but the conversation with Choi Harin tempered his enthusiasm.
―Still, Mr. Taeseong, you said you wanted to be a manager, didn’t you? I was surprised by your proposal, but honestly, it’s not a bad deal for us either. We’ll accept your offer. For two years, just as you suggested, you’ll work as an employee of Tree and contribute to the world. In return, we’ll provide all the support you mentioned.
Their words were polished, but from the beginning, the answer had already been decided. Taeseong merely chose the option they presented. However, this outcome was also part of his plan.
“Two years… Fine, just as you’re using me, I’ll thoroughly use you.”
The present became the past, and the water was already spilled. Rather than regretting the time gone by, he resolved to focus on what he could do now.
If he couldn’t avoid it, he’d exploit it. He would maximize the use of their resources and influence.
For himself alone.
“What was her name again? Lee Sooah, wasn’t it?”
It was the name of his younger sister, as conveyed by Choi Harin.
“Lee Sooah…”
Taeseong slowly repeated her name, savoring it.
It felt strange—familiar, nostalgic, yet distant and foreign.
According to the information Harin shared, Lee Sooah was the only family Taeseong had left. When he asked about other family members, Harin told him about his parents, who both passed away on the same day shortly after he disappeared.
The cause of death? She hadn’t mentioned it. Whether she knew and deliberately withheld it or truly didn’t know, Taeseong had no way to discern.
…The death of his parents.
It was shocking news, but Taeseong reacted more calmly than expected. This was because he had no memory of them. However, this lack of reaction also made him question himself.
Was it normal not to feel even a hint of sadness for one’s parents, no matter the memories? Shouldn’t some instinctive grief emerge simply because he was their son?
“Maybe I’ve already gone mad,” he thought.
He didn’t feel nothing, but his reaction was far removed from how most people would respond to such news.
“Why was I swept up in that dimensional shift?”
“What exactly happened there…?”
“What did I experience during my time as a soldier…?”
“Or rather, am I even truly human?”
The most frustrating thing about his cursed amnesia was how it left Taeseong himself in the dark.
“Why did something like this have to happen to me…?”
Sighing deeply, Taeseong shook off his tangled thoughts. He knew from experience that dwelling on such questions only led to an endless spiral of negativity. The more he focused on such thoughts, the more they chained him to despair.
Rising from his seat, Taeseong opened a meal box on the dining table.
“Not bad… better than I expected.”
He began eating with enthusiasm.
Crunch. Crunch.
As Choi Harin mentioned, both the dormitory and meals were provided free of charge. The stir-fried pork lunchbox he was devouring was one of the perks Tree offered its employees, and it was well-received for its surprising quality.
After finishing his meal almost too quickly, Taeseong retrieved a can of beer from the refrigerator, popped it open, and took a long, satisfying sip.
Gulp. Gulp.
The icy carbonation sent shivers through his body. Pain and pleasure were said to be two sides of the same coin; the burning sensation in his throat reminded Taeseong that he was alive.
“Much better than the quarantine facility, that’s for sure.”
His gaze drifted to the living room.
The apartment was still empty, as he had just moved in, but it was furnished with all the essentials. Though some of the furniture had been left behind by the previous occupant, Taeseong wasn’t bothered.
The space was modest—around 15 pyeong(49.5 square meters)—but it was more than enough for one person.
The employee dormitory, despite its rundown exterior, was surprisingly clean inside. The only drawback was the lack of soundproofing, as it was an old-style corridor apartment.
Taeseong’s unit, 301, was at the end of the hall.
“…”
While sitting at the table, he suddenly heard what sounded like a woman crying.
“The neighbor?”
The sobs lasted for about five minutes before fading away. Taeseong, who generally didn’t concern himself with others, dismissed it as someone in the next apartment dealing with their troubles.
After all, considering the strange and horrifying entities they had to face daily, crying at home seemed understandable.
“Whoever it is, they must have it tough too.”
Just as he considered going to bed, the doorbell rang.
Ding-dong!
Walking to the door, Taeseong opened it.
“…Manager Oh Haeyoung?”
Standing there was Haeyoung, who seemed startled by the sudden opening. She wasn’t in her usual black suit but wearing a casual oversized T-shirt and slippers—clearly dressed for comfort at home.
“Ah, Mr. Taeseong! H-hello!”
“What brings you here?”
“I heard you became a Tree employee! So, as a gesture of congratulations…”
Taeseong’s eyes fell on the black plastic bag in her hand. The aroma of fried chicken wafted from it.
“…Come in.”
“Thank you!”
Haeyoung sat at the dining table while Taeseong fetched two cans of beer from the fridge.
“Will you drink?”
“Of course! Thank you!”
As Taeseong handed her a beer, she passed him a chicken drumstick.
“A trade, is it?”
“You give, and you get!”
Smirking, Taeseong bit into the drumstick.
Now, they were no longer manager and entity but colleagues in the same organization.
The two chatted over beer.
“So, how did you find me here?”
“Oh! Team Leader Choi Harin told me! She said you became a Tree employee and moved into the staff dormitory. As a fellow employee and neighbour, I thought I’d come say hi!”
“Neighbour?”
“I live in 303!”
“That explains the outfit…”
Taeseong suspected her assignment nearby wasn’t coincidental, but he didn’t voice his thoughts.
“I see. Well, I appreciate the gesture. By the way, I heard you wrote a favorable report about me. Thanks to you, I’m here enjoying chicken and beer.”
“Hehe, it’s no big deal… I’m glad it worked out. You were the first humanoid entity I managed since becoming a manager.”
“Is that so? Is that why you evaluated me positively?”
“Ah, no! Not just because of that. As your manager, I knew better than anyone that you weren’t dangerous. I couldn’t stand to see you treated unfairly because of upper management’s misguided decisions.”
“I appreciate it. Regardless, I owe you a debt. I’ll repay it in some way.”
“A debt? No, really, you don’t need to! I did it because I wanted to.”
“Let me decide that.”
“…Alright.”
As their conversation flowed, Taeseong suddenly recalled the crying he heard earlier.
“You said you live in 303, right?”
Haeyoung, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol, nodded.
“Yes.”
“Then do you know anything about the woman next door?”
“The woman next door? You mean 302?”
“Yeah. About five minutes before you arrived, I heard a woman crying from there.”
“Ah, come on, Mr. Taeseong… Don’t joke around!”
“Joke? Why would I joke about that?”
“Because it doesn’t make sense. No one lives in 302.”
“No one lives there? That can’t be right. I clearly heard crying. Is it possible you’re mistaken? Maybe a new tenant moved in without your knowledge…”
“No way. I would know if someone new moved in—I’m in charge of our floor’s roster.”
Taeseong murmured, puzzled.
“Then was it my imagination? That’s hard to believe…”
He was certain he heard it.
A woman sobbing.
“Maybe you imagined it, Mr. Taeseong? 302 has been vacant for over six months.”
“…Fine, maybe I was mistaken.”
Sipping his beer, Taeseong fell silent.
The next day.
Information Team 2 Leader Choi Harin’s office.
“Not the management team, but the search team…?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“Why?”
“Orders from above.”
“…Understood.”
Taeseong couldn’t understand it, but when someone mentioned it was an order from higher-ups, he didn’t have much else to say.
Sitting at her desk, Choi Harin lit a cigarette as she always did.
Fwoosh.
With a blank expression, Harin stared at Taeseong intently.
“By the way, Taeseong.”
“…”
“Are you unfamiliar with formal speech? Now that you’re under Tree, and in the search team no less, I’m your direct superior. Yet, as a former soldier, you still use informal language?”
The search team was an organization under the Intelligence Division.
“…”
When Taeseong silently looked at her, Harin spoke in an unusually cold tone.
“Aren’t you going to answer?”
“…Yes.”
“You were in the military before, so you know, don’t you? The hierarchy in an organization is absolute. Follow orders properly from now on.”
Taeseong nodded.
“Respond verbally.”
“…Yes.”
Only then did Harin smile in satisfaction.
“Alright, do well on your first assignment, Taeseong. I’ll be watching with high expectations.”
Without replying, Taeseong left the room. Harin, who had secretly feared Taeseong might react unpredictably, let out a sigh of relief.
‘Gotta establish dominance early, one way or another.’
But at that moment, Harin was completely unaware of what would come of this in the future.
Lee Taeseong was a man who never forgot even the smallest favor—or grudge.
A man in his mid-30s, wearing a friendly smile, extended his hand for a handshake. Taeseong grasped it and introduced himself.
“Oh, so you’re the new recruit? Nice to meet you. I’m Choi Han-seong, team leader of Search Team 2.”
“I’m Lee Taeseong.”
“Ah, you’re one of the returnees, right?”
“That’s correct.”
“Let’s see… your rank is…”
The man glanced at some paperwork, and his face immediately darkened.
“Epsilon? Sigh… I’ve been asking for decent recruits because we’re short-staffed, and they send this? This blatant disregard… That damned woman…”
The teammate standing beside the man skillfully tried to calm him down. The natural ease of the gesture suggested it wasn’t the first time.
“Ah, boss, don’t let those Intelligence slackers stress you out again. Every time we get worked up, it’s only bad for us. How about we make a solid achievement this time and shake things up?”
“Right… achievements… If we deliver results, that damned woman won’t dare act up anymore.”
“Exactly. And you’re a Delta rank, boss! It’s just bad luck holding you back. Once you focus, your promotion is a given. When that happens, I, your loyal Kim Ho-jin, will make sure you walk nothing but a flower-strewn path!”
The team leader, now in a much better mood, laughed heartily.
“Ho-jin, you’re the best!”
“Of course, boss. Look at this guy—he doesn’t seem so bad at a second glance, does he? As his senior, I’ll train him thoroughly and turn him into a proper asset. So don’t worry about him!”
“Alright, sounds good! Let’s get moving immediately!”
“Wait… is the newbie coming with us…?”
“Of course! When have we ever gone easy on a rookie? Just get him in the car already.”
“Alright then, I’ll take him in my car!”
“Good.”
Ho-jin led Taeseong to the car. Once Ho-jin was seated in the driver’s seat, Taeseong climbed into the passenger seat. Although Ho-jin hadn’t said a word on the way here, he began talking as soon as the car started moving.
“Feeling overwhelmed on your first day? I was like that too when I started. They just told me to get in the car without explaining a thing. I was sweating bullets back then… You’ll get used to it soon enough.”
“Yes.”
“And, about earlier—sorry for that. The boss gets sensitive when it comes to issues with Intelligence. I was just trying to keep him in a good mood, so don’t take it personally.”
“Yes.”
“He might seem harsh at first, but he’s actually a softie. He really takes care of his subordinates. A few days in, and he’ll probably start calling you his precious rookie.”
“…”
Ho-jin turned out to be far chattier than Taeseong had expected. Though Taeseong initially replied out of politeness, he soon fell silent.
‘You’d think he’d run out of things to say by now…’
Still, Taeseong didn’t find it unpleasant. At least Ho-jin was considerate enough to apologize to a subordinate, something he could have easily skipped. Taeseong also realized that Ho-jin’s constant chatter was likely an attempt to ease his nerves.
‘He must think I’m anxious about the first mission.’
Ho-jin was clearly someone who naturally cared about others.
“Don’t stress too much. Our job is just to confirm whether there’s a rift or not.”
Ho-jin explained the mission:
The operation involved 15 personnel.
The target was an abandoned hospital in the Gwangju district of Gyeonggi Province, near Gonjiam-eup.
They had received information about strange occurrences in the area.
Their task was to secure the vicinity, investigate the phenomena within the hospital, and look for signs of a dimensional rift.
That was Search Team 2’s mission.
“Stick close to the boss. He’s a Delta rank, after all. Alright, we’re here.”
Ho-jin and Taeseong got out of the car. The other team members were already present, surveying the area. The team leader spotted Ho-jin and nodded in greeting, to which Ho-jin responded cheerfully.
Scanning the surroundings, Taeseong noticed the abandoned hospital on a hill. Its eerie exterior was something like a horror movie set, but beyond that, it exuded an indescribably unsettling atmosphere.
From the moment he arrived, Taeseong had the distinct feeling of being watched. The sensation was too blatant to dismiss as mere paranoia.
However, no matter how much he heightened his senses, he couldn’t identify the source of the gaze.
‘Ultimately, I’ll have to go inside the hospital…’
It was then that a team member suddenly collapsed to the ground, screaming.
“Arrgh! Aaaargh! Aaaaaahhh!”
Alarmed, the team leader rushed over.
“What’s going on? What happened!?”
“Ugh… T-team leader…!”
The team member writhed in agony, his eyes rolling back as if possessed. He coughed violently, choking out fragmented pleas.
“Please…! H-help me…”
