Chapter 91: Crossed Paths (1)

STEP, STEP.

The sound of dress shoes echoed through the office.

Everyone sat awkwardly at their own desks, working with uncomfortable expressions.

Director Jang Bok-eum stopped when he saw Su-myeon standing guard at the entrance to the office.

“Hello.”

Even at Su-myeon’s greeting, Bok-eum merely adjusted the suit he was wearing and spoke leisurely.

“You don’t seem particularly well.”

If you know that, then don’t come here and make everyone uncomfortable.

Unlike Cheshire, who had regained a human form, Su-myeon had absolutely no idea how the government would decide to handle Mu-yeon.

On top of that, because he currently had the form of a wild beast, they might simply regard him as a monster and put him down.

Or lock him away somewhere, and in the worst case, conduct live experiments on him under the pretense of learning about his physical structure or the principles behind it....

'......I can’t let that happen. I need to learn more about this man first.'

It would be right to reveal Mu-yeon only after that.

Su-myeon glanced at Hwi-yeon, who was diligently pretending to work while hiding her anxiety, then asked.

“I’m always like this. What brings you here personally this time?”

“Do I need permission to visit my own department?”

What was with this guy?

He had felt it last time too, but Bok-eum was the kind of person who made him uncomfortable for reasons beyond simply being his superior.

If not for this attitude, Su-myeon might have told him about Mu-yeon without much hesitation.

But he simply could not bring himself to trust him.

“It’s not like you actually report to work here. So yes, to be honest, it’s uncomfortable. A superior suddenly showing up when nobody’s used to seeing him.”

But Su-myeon was an experienced new hire whose background was difficult to replace.

Knowing his own position well, he spoke frankly and explained the uncomfortable atmosphere.

After naturally adding that everyone else probably felt much the same, Su-myeon moved.

“Let’s talk upstairs. Anyway....”

But just as Su-myeon was about to lead him upstairs, he stopped.

Jang Bok-eum was not alone.

There was another familiar person standing outside the office.

“...Hello.”

Park Ji-hoon, the son of the owner of Room 404 whom they had rescued during The Witch’s Forest incident.

“Ah, yes. What brings you....”

As the startled Su-myeon looked back and forth between Ji-hoon and Bok-eum, Bok-eum gestured toward Ji-hoon.

Ji-hoon seemed just as uncomfortable around Bok-eum, standing stiffly before slowly stepping into the office.

“The reason I came personally was to introduce a new team member.”

“Everyone’s been doing well...?”

Haha....

At Ji-hoon’s awkward laugh, Su-myeon pressed a hand to his forehead.

Considering the time Ji-hoon had spent hospitalized while recovering, it had not actually been that long since they had last seen each other.

A new team member? They were hiring a survivor from inside a ghost story....

“You’re planning to increase the staff like this?”

“Isn’t it the most reasonable approach? There’s no need to wear ourselves out explaining things to each other, and no need to persuade anyone.”

An organization that controlled unnatural phenomena was not something ordinary people could easily be made to understand.

Even most of the National Intelligence Service personnel deployed to the field had no idea what they were actually controlling or why.

They simply worked without knowing.

Because telling them it was a matter of national security was faster and easier than trying to convince every single one of them.

“Besides, telling people who wasted part of their lives going through experiences like that to simply return to an ordinary life would be a form of abandonment.”

Bok-eum’s tone was overbearing, but he was not wrong.

Of course, telling people who had been victims to go right back to doing work related to ghost stories....

That also felt somewhat like emotional abuse.

“He himself says he wants to rescue people who suffer the same kinds of hardships he did, so there’s no reason to disregard such admirable intentions, is there?”

At Bok-eum’s words, Ji-hoon nodded as well.

Judging by the look of things, it did not seem as though he had been forced into this.

Was Su-myeon only interpreting it as Bok-eum seeing a convenient opportunity and deciding to make use of him because his first impression of Bok-eum had already been so bad?

Not knowing whether it was prejudice or something else, Su-myeon nodded.

It was true that they were always short-handed.

The fact that only a small number of people could be sent into the field was one thing.

But completely eliminating ghost stories, which was their actual goal, required a considerable amount of manpower.

Controlling the situation while carefully managing how much information was given to each person.

And beyond that, taking all the rules Su-myeon normally rattled off in a disorganized mess and clearly organizing them into proper Safety Rules.

Even for those two tasks alone, the more hands they had, the better.

“Then, understood for now. I look forward to working with you, Mr. Ji-hoon.”

“Ah, yes, yes. Thank you. I think I’ll be working as a regular employee from now on.”

As Ji-hoon bowed in greeting, Mi-ae, who had been watching with interest from one side, threw both hands into the air.

“I’m not the youngest anymore!”

“Tsk....”

Hwi-yeon lightly warned her at the behavior.

“I’ll introduce you properly to the others later. More importantly....”

“Right, I have another reason for coming.”

Bok-eum, apparently busy himself, immediately moved on to the next matter and took something from inside his suit jacket.

What he pulled out was a newly made, glossy resident registration card.

“You need identification for that unidentified man, don’t you?”

When Su-myeon took it and examined it, astonishingly, it was a forged identification card for Choi Si-woo.

Had Cheshire said that he was more comfortable with the name Cheshire, which he had grown accustomed to inside ghost stories, than with his real name?

Perhaps his strangely laid-back personality was simply his nature.

He was stretched out asleep on a sofa in one corner of the office with an attitude so unconcerned it bordered on careless.

And that had happened while everyone else had been making a fuss trying to hide Mu-yeon in the laundry room.

“......He still seems tired, so I’ll give it to him when he wakes up.”

According to the identification card, his age was exactly one year older than Han-su.

The years he had been missing had simply been cut away, leaving him with the age that matched his current appearance.

“Creating a new identity isn’t difficult. So from now on, focus even more actively on rescue operations.”

Su-myeon wanted to ask what would happen to anyone rescued without a human form.

But he was still uncertain how much he could trust either Jang Bok-eum or the government.

Rather than let something slip and invite suspicion, it would be better to watch a little longer.

While Su-myeon pretended to be lost in thought as he looked at Cheshire’s identification card, Bok-eum continued.

“As an added measure, we’ll also proceed with hiring Choi Si-woo. Have him work alongside you as a regular employee as well.”

In this case, they had not bothered asking for his consent.

“In situations like this, our position is that granting someone one hundred percent freedom would itself risk social disorder.”

In other words, if Cheshire refused the employment arrangement, he might be subjected to restrictions in some other form.

Listening to Jang Bok-eum, Su-myeon felt relieved that he had not mentioned Mu-yeon.

If they could not even grant full freedom to a long-term missing person whose memories had been cleanly severed, there was no chance they would grant it to a monster.

Su-myeon nodded as though he understood, and Bok-eum brought up his final matter.

“And by now, haven’t all of you gotten somewhat used to this work?”

For a moment, Bok-eum looked around at everyone in the office.

Before they knew it, the field personnel had become experienced veterans who had escaped ghost stories several times over.

Even Mi-ae, who had never personally experienced one, understood the mechanics to some extent.

“To achieve faster rescues and a better understanding of these phenomena.... I’d like you to conduct regular investigations into White Night Land in the basement.”

At Bok-eum’s words, Su-myeon tilted his head with a troubled expression.

White Night Land was still a place they needed to be extremely cautious about entering.

“That was included in the report I gave you before.”

“I know. You said they’re watching you closely there.”

You know that, and you’re telling us to go back?

As Su-myeon frowned, Bok-eum added as though it were obvious.

“That’s why you should look for new ghost stories while the others go without you.”

Su-myeon had tried that at first too.

But because the rules he knew had gradually begun changing, he had temporarily stopped sending anyone inside.

Jang Bok-eum spoke again with certainty.

“I’ve even increased your staff, so go back in and have the new personnel identify the changed rules, establish Safety Rules, and rescue people. Otherwise.”

Killing them all and eliminating the ghost story would also be an option.

Bok-eum mentioned such an extreme choice as casually as though he were deciding what to eat, and Su-myeon’s expression hardened further.

Su-myeon himself had attempted such a method in The Mountain of the Red Cloak.

That only made him feel more uncomfortable when he realized Bok-eum must have been speaking based on that report.

Su-myeon had never tried that option lightly.

The people there had already lost everything inside them, leaving only human shells behind.

He had chosen it because he believed it was the best option.

And even while believing that, he had never been able to completely rid himself of the guilt.

“.......”

Su-myeon could not answer Bok-eum.

As expected, he did not think he would ever be able to like this superior.

Bok-eum stared directly at Su-myeon’s expression, still wearing the same relaxed, overbearing look as he spoke.

“Hesitating for a trivial reason like morality will only be a foolish way to increase the number of victims.”

“Is that trivial?”

This time, Su-myeon questioned him.

Su-myeon himself was not someone who always made the moral choice.

Even by his own estimation, he was nothing more than a timid ordinary man.

He preferred the safe choice over the righteous one, but....

“Still, if there’s a way. If there’s something we can do. Isn’t choosing the right thing as much as possible what makes us human?”

That was something like the bare minimum of a conscience.

Even if the purpose behind their actions was to save people, what meaning was there if the process itself became inhuman?

Su-myeon had no desire to become so devoted to this work that he would abandon his own humanity for it.

He simply made whatever choices he could within the limits of what he was capable of.

Bok-eum listened to Su-myeon and replied calmly without the slightest change in expression.

“And I’m not criticizing your choices, am I?”

“......What?”

“Judging from the reports I received, this ghost story also appears to have been one that could have been completely resolved if you hadn’t let yourself be swayed by those petty emotions.”

If Su-myeon had not wasted time trying to save the people there.

For example, if from the very beginning Su-myeon had intended to burn all of The Mountain of the Red Cloak to the ground.

If he had poured all the fuel into the center of the village and started a massive fire.

'Then everyone inside would have died, and the ghost story would have lost its causality as well.'

But Su-myeon had set the fire away from the village to preserve the possibility of saving the people who could still be rescued.

As a result, the ghost story had ultimately failed to end.

“I won’t bother reprimanding you for that mistake. Like you said. You’re human too.”

There was something strange about Bok-eum’s expression as he said it.

A face that somehow felt mocking.

Within the same expression that still carried weight and composure, Su-myeon sensed a faint sneer.

Once again, he felt deeply uncomfortable around him.

Beyond simply being his superior, Director Jang Bok-eum was truly the kind of person Su-myeon could never get along with.

“Then, keep up the good work.”

After thoroughly ruining Su-myeon’s mood.

He simply walked away as though his business was finished.

***

Park Ji-hoon, new employee of the Unnatural Threat Governance.

First day on the job.

“.......”

“.......”

Within the chilly atmosphere, Ji-hoon quietly watched everyone’s reactions.

The people who had directly helped rescue him, and those who had helped indirectly.

In this stiff atmosphere, Mi-ae, who worked as an intelligence officer, seemed like the easiest person to approach.

“Is it always like this here?”

Ji-hoon quietly asked Mi-ae.

She scratched her forehead.

“Not really....”

She glanced toward Su-myeon.

He was currently standing in front of the coffee machine, drinking his third Americano in a row.

“The Chief’s in a bad mood.”

Mi-ae’s voice was fairly loud in the quiet office.

Was it really okay to say something like that where everyone could hear?

Su-myeon turned his gaze toward the two of them, making Ji-hoon jolt awkwardly.

The atmosphere around Su-myeon when Ji-hoon had known him merely as his rescuer and the atmosphere around him now were almost completely different.

Su-myeon looked young, but even being generous, he was not exactly someone with an approachable face.

“Ah, um... I mean.”

“Mr. Park Ji-hoon.”

Su-myeon suddenly asked the flustered Ji-hoon.

“Are you someone I can trust?”