Chapter 42: UTG (1)

[Loading.......]

They couldn't exactly discuss something like this in a café, so Su-myeon's apartment had naturally become their usual meeting place.

Su-myeon nodded at Ju-hee's question. Since this was important, he had invited Lee Hwi-yeon to join them as well.

"I learned quite a lot, and there's something I want to make clear."

Everyone already knew that Su-myeon had gone alone into danger to find answers.

"Could you at least tell us first whether it's good news or bad?"

At Lim Ha-min's question, Su-myeon carefully chose his words before slowly beginning.

"For now, I'd say it's the good kind."

The group, who had been listening to Su-myeon with rapt attention, relaxed slightly.

"Even when everything seems hopeless, somehow, another glimmer of hope keeps appearing."

Little by little, more ways to save people were beginning to emerge.

"After Hyeon-seok came back safely... we can call it safely, right?"

At Su-myeon's words, Ju-hee nodded firmly.

"After he returned safely, we all started thinking there really might be a way to find the people we've each lost and bring them back."

Su-myeon briefly glanced at Hwi-yeon, seated among the familiar faces, before continuing.

"And by working with Hwi-yeon, we were planning to search for traces of the people we've lost."

That was as far as the group had gotten in their discussions.

The plan had still been vague, but they had agreed to take things one step at a time.

Su-myeon took out the Heartphone Script he had set aside and placed it in the middle of the group.

"From one to ninety-nine."

Han-su, acting on behalf of the others, opened the book Su-myeon had placed before them.

But the moment he recognized the familiar contents beginning on the very first page, he froze and set the book back down in shock.

Inside were the rules from the ghost stories they had encountered.

Everything they had seen inside those ghost stories had been recorded in the book without so much as a single word missing.

Young-cheol reached over and flipped through several more pages.

The entries went far beyond Ellis Hotel and Baekya Land, extending into countless unfamiliar territories.

"Instead of wandering around searching for traces, I was thinking—what if we just save people by taking these places on one by one, like clearing stages?"

For the moment, Su-myeon set aside the matter of Belle and her circumstances and focused first on making his objective clear.

To put it bluntly, whatever circumstances the beings inside the ghost stories had were their problems, not his group's.

Su-myeon pointed toward the Heartphone Script the others were examining.

"With this, and everything I already know."

"......We can enter any ghost story and make it back alive."

Han-su finished the thought for him.

Of course, countless variables could arise once they were inside a ghost story.

But even those variables could not overturn the one thing that remained absolute.

The rules.

As long as they stayed calm and responded properly, the rules themselves provided a path to survival.

"If we keep going until we've saved everyone we possibly can, even if it takes a long time... then couldn't we eventually consider our success rate 100%?"

A heavy silence followed Su-myeon's resolute words.

It was not something anyone could agree to lightly.

Even so, one after another, they nodded.

After all, they had already promised to cooperate until each of them had rescued the people they had lost.

Their goal had merely become clearer.

Its essence had not changed.

"Yeah, let's do it!"

"Then should we all start studying this book?"

"Don't we need to organize it a little better first?"

"Should I make copies?"

"Still sounds more fun than school, at least."

Park Du-pal, Han-su, Ju-hee, Young-cheol, and Ha-min.

Not one of them objected.

The realization brought Su-myeon a sense of reassurance far greater than he had expected.

As he watched the group steel themselves in an unexpectedly heartwarming atmosphere, Hwi-yeon suddenly spoke.

"If that's what you've all decided, then what I have to tell you should proceed more smoothly as well."

Before anyone could ask what she meant, Hwi-yeon pulled a file from her bag.

"As an agent of the National Intelligence Service, I'm now in a position to offer all of you more direct support."

Su-myeon already knew this, but the others were visibly startled by Hwi-yeon's abrupt revelation.

The pitch-black file she had taken out was tightly bound and sealed.

And across its cover—

"Everything up to this point is already classified. But what I'm about to tell you is classified at an even higher level."

A vivid red TOP SECRET stamp had been pressed across it.

"I'd like only those who agree with Su-myeon's proposal to remain. Everyone else, please step outside."

"Hold on, shouldn't something like that be discussed separa—"

Su-myeon hurriedly tried to intervene as the atmosphere turned heavy in an instant, but Han-su firmly cut him off.

"We've already made up our minds. You can just tell us."

As though it were the most natural thing in the world, everyone else nodded as well.

Shouldn't they at least exclude the minor?

Su-myeon glanced toward Ha-min, but Hwi-yeon spoke first.

"Given how few people there are who can fully understand this situation, I'd also like to seek Ha-min's input and advice—provided, of course, that he agrees."

Ha-min looked more delighted than anything else at her words and nodded vigorously.

He clearly had no intention of being sidelined merely because of his age.

"All right, then. Let's hear it."

Su-myeon gestured toward the still-sealed classified file.

Hwi-yeon began speaking as she untied the cord wrapped around it.

"Human evaporation. I'm sure you've heard the term before."

The phenomenon of people suddenly disappearing.

In ordinary social usage, it referred to someone who wished to vanish from society and deliberately went into hiding.

But the human evaporation Hwi-yeon was talking about was literal.

"They've been concealing it behind that term, but research into unexplained cases of human evaporation has been pouring in from all over the world."

Of course, some of those who disappeared had surely chosen to vanish of their own accord.

But there were cases that simply could not be explained that way.

Cases the group knew all too well.

Cases where no one remembered the missing person.

Where no one could prove they had ever existed.

A void left behind after someone's very existence had been torn cleanly out of reality.

"You mentioned leaving Kihoe Group's grandson behind inside one of the aberrant phenomena."

After Hwi-yeon submitted her report and conducted an investigation based on that information, the official result had been that no such person had ever existed.

But that had not been the end of it.

"Kihoe Group had purchased vast amounts of real estate, vehicles, and luxury goods for reasons no one could explain and with no identifiable owner—and recently, those assets have begun to be liquidated."

Even the people within Kihoe Group had been baffled when the matter was investigated.

No one had ordered the purchases.

No one needed those assets.

A mountain of property with no apparent buyer had simply materialized.

As though the person who had purchased it all had vanished.

"On top of that, we've discovered similar voids throughout South Korea—gaps left behind by individuals responsible for transfers of tangible assets worth hundreds of millions, even hundreds of billions of won."

In terms of the value of the individual himself, losing Ki San-hyeok had already been an enormous blow.

But he had also been someone who spent tens of millions of won every month.

When a person like that vanished, there was inevitably an economic impact.

And what if it hadn't happened to only one or two people?

"Take your apartment, for example. According to the records, you purchased it twenty years ago, when you were still an elementary school student—and you paid in cash."

There was no way to trace where the money had come from or how a child could possibly have obtained it.

"You're registered as an orphan. How could someone in that situation possibly have come up with that kind of money?"

The word "orphan" stung somewhere deep in Su-myeon's chest.

But the point Hwi-yeon was making mattered far more.

The government had recognized that something was happening beyond the bounds of ordinary human reason.

"The details differ because every country keeps this information classified, but both the United States and China clearly have departments dedicated to responding to situations like this."

Under ordinary circumstances, most people would have dismissed the idea of such a department as absurd—something on the level of a task force created to prepare for an alien invasion.

But Hwi-yeon's report had given the senior leadership of the NIS the certainty they needed.

"The loss of human life caused by special aberrant phenomena is statistically significant. That is the conclusion the government has reached."

Population figures had been falling at an inexplicable rate.

Until now, the discrepancy had been papered over with explanations involving the declining birth rate.

But there was only so far that excuse could stretch.

"Once the numbers began looking strange even on paper, more and more people started asking questions."

And right around the time the government began paying serious attention, a case had fallen directly into their hands.

The search for Shin Hyeon-seok.

While Hwi-yeon had been using NIS intelligence resources to investigate his disappearance, Hyeon-seok had returned to reality.

Every step of the process had been documented.

And the documentation had left behind questions that could no longer be ignored.

"So, in the end, what does all of that mean for us?"

Su-myeon listened to Hwi-yeon's lengthy explanation and found it reasonable enough.

He appreciated the fact that the government was not dismissing his group as lunatics and was instead acknowledging that something genuinely abnormal was happening.

But acknowledgment alone meant nothing.

What Su-myeon wanted to know was what came after that acknowledgment.

"The government has decided to place its trust in you, Su-myeon, and establish a new department."

For a moment, Su-myeon's mind went blank at Hwi-yeon's conclusion.

"What does establishing a department have to do with trusting me?"

After all that explanation about how the government's conclusions had been based on mountains of data and evidence—

why was the creation of an entire department suddenly being pinned on him?

When Su-myeon frowned and pressed her for an answer, Hwi-yeon flipped through the documents and showed him the first page.

What he saw there was, of all things, a letter of appointment.

And Su-myeon's personal information had already been filled in under the name of the appointee.

"I believe you're currently unemployed. Think of this as a... recruitment offer from the National Intelligence Service."

No.

No, wait.

"You'll be assigned to an NIS-affiliated department dedicated to responding to loss of life caused by aberrant phenomena. I'll be transferred there as well."

What was—

what, exactly, was happening now...?

Was this really happening?

Su-myeon turned toward the others with a bewildered expression.

Ju-hee and Han-su looked every bit as stunned as he was.

Du-pal and Ha-min, on the other hand, merely looked excited.

As for Young-cheol....

"I already figured he belonged to some kind of agency like that...."

"......"

Su-myeon realized that this was one matter in which he could expect absolutely no support from the group.

He pressed his fingers against his forehead.

"Ha-min is also over fifteen, so as I mentioned earlier, I'd appreciate his willingness to provide input and participate in our discussions."

Hwi-yeon briefly explained what authority the government could grant Ha-min and what benefits would come with it.

She went on to explain the arrangements for the rest of the group as well, but Su-myeon was still reeling.

At the same time, one thing became painfully clear.

Belle's story inside the ghost story.

And Hwi-yeon's story unfolding right before him.

Both gave him the eerie sense that someone far above had already arranged everything in advance and was merely waiting for the right person to step forward and make it official.

Otherwise, how could everything possibly move this fast?

Hwi-yeon handed out individually prepared documents stamped with TOP SECRET warnings to each member of the group.

"And if you're going to do this work, you'll need somewhere to do it."

Hwi-yeon spoke as though she intended to work through every last item on some predetermined checklist without pausing.

No matter how confused they were, her clear pronunciation and steady voice made every word sink directly into their heads.

After handing out the individual documents, Hwi-yeon passed the entire file to Su-myeon.

Why did those fluttering sheets of paper look so impossibly heavy?

Su-myeon reached out with agonizing slowness and accepted them.

He pushed aside the appointment letter he still could not begin to process.

On the next page were the details of the department that was about to be established.

"The government plans to purchase the building containing the entrance to Baekya Land at Sadang Station."

Isn't the feng shui there a little too awful for that?

Su-myeon wanted to object, but instead continued reading the documents while listening to Hwi-yeon.

The department's name was the Unnatural Threat Governance Bureau.

Beside the perfectly respectable Korean name was its English designation.

[Unnatural Threat Governance]

Abbreviated—

UTG.

An abbreviation Su-myeon knew all too well.