Chapter 9

A rainy Monday afternoon.

The employees of Field Exploration Team D dashed off their situation report at unprecedented speed, even logging in under their team leader’s username to approve it on his behalf.

There was only one reason.

Their new recruit had cleared a timed ghost story without waiting out the clock!

“Wasn’t the time limit... definitely three days?”

“Yes, it was.”

The deputy and the employee had raided the break room for snacks, spread them out in front of the recruit on the sofa, and sat down opposite him.

They exchanged glances and nodded.

At last, it was time to ask him properly.

“So how did you get out so quickly?”

“Oh.”

The recruit seemed to consider this for a moment, then answered with a look of understanding.

“I sped up time.”

‘He’s answering as casually as if he were telling us what he had for lunch...!’

Before either could say that aloud, the recruit slowly explained the method he had used.

“Since there was a time limit, I thought there had to be some event that would establish that ‘time had passed.’ So I focused on that...”

He even explained how he had used an expiration date to bring the “time alarm” forward.

His superiors listened silently, thinking:

‘He’s a genius.’

‘He’s not allowed to quit.’

The intuition and reasoning to see straight through to the essence of a ghost story?

With talent like that, he might as well have been born for the Field Exploration Team. They had to make sure he never escaped this team—no, help him settle in!

“I was in no position to welcome you aboard as though I were somebody, Mr. Roe Deer.”

“At this rate, you’ll overtake me and become a deputy in no time.”

“...!?”

They would never find another recruit like this...!

“Don’t forget us when you make it big... And come show off when you get your Wish Coupon...”

The recruit looked somewhat flustered.

“No, not at all. Um... actually,”

“Hmm?”

He added, as though making a major confession:

“I was scared, so I wanted to get out quickly.”

“...”

Since when did being scared of an Urban Legend let you escape it faster...?

They almost felt their perceptions being contaminated into believing it had been some sort of escape room.

‘He’s taking modesty too far...!’

But the recruit stood firm.

“I’d appreciate some warning next time. I was so frightened I nearly passed out.”

“Is that really something you can say after clearing it in an hour...?”

With an indescribable expression, the recruit said,

“I thought I was going to die.”

‘Liar!’

What kind of person thought they were dying and then attempted a record-breaking time attack? That was pure insanity, something even most veteran employees wouldn’t try.

Still, they understood his sense of betrayal.

‘Honestly, it was pretty harsh.’

No matter how safe it was supposed to be, getting dropped into a bizarre phenomenon all alone was no small thing.

And they knew exactly how to soothe those hurt feelings.

The working person’s cure!

The deputy took a sip of coffee and asked,

“Roe Deer, how much did you get?”

“Pardon?”

“The money you get when you clear it.”

“Oh, yes. Ten million won.”

That was right. This F-grade Darkness awarded prize money upon completion.

And the manual clearly stated:

-Upon clearing a Shade (F)-grade Darkness for which the company has a complete manual, 50% of any incidental proceeds will be paid to the employee as a bonus.

Put another way, the company took half of whatever money an employee won from a Darkness using a completed manual.

Worse, the first Darkness assigned to a new recruit wasn’t covered by this clause!

The company’s position was that it couldn’t pay hazard bonuses for ghost stories whose safety had been verified through dozens or hundreds of attempts.

The recruit had already read this manual too.

However.

“Normally, the company takes all of that... but you can just keep it.”

“... Pardon?”

Once you had enough seniority and know-how, there were always ways to fudge the paperwork!

They even had a wonderful exception to company regulations: “It was cleared using a new escape method, so the manual does not apply.” They could take care of everything. Absolutely.

A huge payout on your first day made everything look rosy!

With warm smiles, the deputy and supervisor deployed a technique that had once been used on them.

“Hey, now. Put it away. Keep it. We know how to handle this.”

“...”

‘It was actually twenty million won.’

Kim Soleum, who had planned to pocket half on his own, broke into a cold sweat.

His delight at the fantastic windfall of an extra ten million won he couldn’t explain—and his pangs of conscience—were short-lived. Soon, he was getting up to follow his superiors.

“Now that you’ve successfully explored a Darkness, let’s go collect the most important thing.”

“Collect...?”

“Yep.”

The supervisor grinned.

“Employee Welfare Mall points!”

* * *

“Whew.”

I couldn’t have been happier to be in the middle of a crowded city in broad daylight.

For now, I wasn’t even worried about how I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight with every light on.

‘Does having twenty million won in my pocket buy peace of mind too...?’

Even if I’d landed in a ghost story, this was still twenty-first-century Korea, a capitalist society.

I finally sat at the desk I’d been assigned, turned on the computer, and connected to the intranet.

Sitting in an ergonomic office chair under the bright fluorescent lights, I could almost believe the insane reality of having faced off against a ghost just moments ago was all a lie.

There were even some rather cute writing supplies and a wide-eyed lizard plush on the desk.

‘... Don’t these look a little used?’

Well, I could only hope the previous occupant had won the lottery and quit so abruptly they hadn’t had time to clear their desk.

Anyway, the Welfare Mall was already bookmarked on the PC, so getting there was easy.

[Daydream Inc. Employee Welfare Mall]

I quickly signed up using my employee number, then clicked the “Register Points” tab as my superiors had instructed.

[“Select the grade of the Darkness you cleared, enter its name, attach the PDF, and submit it.”]

I did exactly that.

And five minutes later:

[Employee Kim Soleum / Accumulated Points: 100p]

“...!”

The review was completed and the points credited with astonishing speed.

‘So clearing an F-grade alone gets you 100 points.’

Well, regardless of the hell I’d been through, it was only F-grade. It probably wasn’t worth much... Better not get my hopes up.

Still, now that I had some points, I wanted to see if there was anything I could buy for 100p.

The very first page caught me off guard.

“... A robot vacuum?”

The selection was better than I’d expected.

Most special-offer items cost 100p, while top-of-the-line major appliances, the sort you bought when furnishing a newlywed home, ran around 500p.

Even Daydream Inc.’s unreleased formulas were available for roughly 1,000p, including plenty of mind-boggling technology like cornea-regenerating potions.

Oh, for reference, their hair-loss medicine cost about five hundred thousand won on the open market without insurance, but here you could buy it for 100p.

‘This is actually pretty good.’

With a little anticipation, I moved the mouse.

Now it was time to check the most important thing.

That glorious name that appeared when you sorted the “Our Products” tab by “Price: High to Low.”

‘Wish Coupon.’

The price of that miraculous potion introduced as the company’s flagship benefit right after our death survival game was...

Wish Coupon: 500,000p

“...”

You’re joking, right?

‘Five hundred thousand?’

I’d just cleared a ghost story and earned 100 points...

And this cost 500,000 points?

‘In theory... assuming I entered an F-grade alone every single day, it would take fifteen years.’

But there was no way it would be that simple.

‘If everything went according to my plans, it wouldn’t be a workplace.’

Not only was there no way I could exclusively clear F-grade Darknesses every day, there were bound to be countless irregularities.

‘I’m sure I’ll often be forced into higher-grade Darknesses with coworkers.’

Wait, did they split the points equally there too?

I dug through the Welfare Mall’s point registration tab and found the base point awards for each Darkness grade.

F-grade: 100p

D-grade: 1000p

C-grade: 2500p

B-grade: 10000p

A-grade: 100000p

S-grade: Separate Review

Additional bonuses were added according to special circumstances assessed internally by the company.

For instance, when a clearance was urgent, information was unavailable, or there were additional risks.

‘There are three people to a team, so if a three-person clear is standard...’

... I’d have to clear B-grade 150 times to afford it?

‘Are they out of their minds?’

At B-grade alone, the survival rate for civilians plunged to about 2%.

That was where you started getting killed or suffering a fate worse than death no matter which option you chose!

Send a regular employee into those 150 times and you might as well consider them dead.

It was the sort of insane situation where you had to fall to your knees and beg not to be sent, orders or no orders.

In other words, speedrunning only the higher grades was impossible.

‘So in the end, if I want even a slightly better chance of survival, I have to invest more than ten years.’

It wasn’t as though I were some gentleman waiting ten years for revenge...

And if the Field Exploration Team still earned them faster than any other department, people elsewhere were more likely never to get a Wish Coupon during their entire careers.

With so many other products in the Welfare Mall, plenty of people in other departments probably resigned themselves to that and settled for what they could get...

But I couldn’t.

My goal was utterly surreal and perfectly clear.

Returning to my original world.

And they wanted me to live here for fifteen years? I’d die of a shock-induced heart attack long before that!

‘No!’

A plan. I needed a plan.

‘I need to properly work out which ghost stories I absolutely have to enter and which I need to avoid.’

Then I had to collect five hundred thousand points as quickly as possible while striking the perfect balance with safety.

I was just about to sink into serious contemplation when the supervisor tapped my back and asked,

“Roe Deer, did you register? Computer working okay?”

“Yes. Oh, these personal belongings here...”

“Oh, that’s the team leader’s desk.”

“...”

So that was why it looked used!

“Just don’t break the monitor. Make yourself at home today. Go on.”

Was this company... really okay?

Could they seriously do something as insane as telling a new recruit to borrow their superior’s desk for a while?

‘Come to think of it, of course it isn’t okay.’

This company fed people into ghost stories to extract potions. If I applied the common sense of an ordinary, decent twenty-first-century Korean office worker, wouldn’t I keep running into things that made me recoil?

... Maybe bending the rules a little really was the right call.

“Oh, Roe Deer, want a smoke too?”

“No, thank you.”

I didn’t join my superiors for their smoke break.

Instead, I looked down at the desk I’d been using, took a deep breath, and turned over the keyboard.

Sure enough, there was a sticky note attached.

[Team Leader Lee Jaheon / 105105301]

ID: yongj1111

PW: dydajflgodks! 111

I’d seen this far too often at work to condemn him for having no sense of security.

‘If he’s the team leader... he must be a section chief.’

And as it happened, there was a certain website at this company accessible only to section chiefs and above...

It would really come in handy for clearing higher-grade Darknesses.

“...”

After seeing that insane target of five hundred thousand points, this really felt too good to pass up.

All right.

‘Let’s do this.’

My mind made up, I opened the Welfare Mall again.

Only this time, I wasn’t using my own account.

Username: yongj1111

Password: dydajflgodks! 111

I tried logging into the Welfare Mall under Team D’s leader’s username.

Incorrect password.

“Hmm...”

It was fine. I’d expected this much of an obstacle.

Let’s see. Clicking Sign Up would let me check the password requirements.

‘So it needed a capital letter.’

In that case, I could capitalize just the first letter of the password written under the keyboard and try logging in with “Dydajflgodks! 111”...

DING.

[Welcome, Section Chief Lee Jaheon]

‘It worked!’

I clenched both fists under the desk. An office celebration that wouldn’t attract attention. Not that there was anyone else in the office right now.

Anyway, what I needed to find on this page now was... a kind of bait link.

The so-called “Alien Shop.”

There were quite a few alien ghost stories in <Records of Dark Exploration>, and some featured aliens trying to sell things to earthlings through clumsy attempts at communication.

‘They weren’t malicious, but some of what they sold was creepy or dangerous from a human perspective.’

Still, it was practically comedy, making it one of the rare heartwarming ghost stories.

And they had a business sense of their own. Apparently wanting to target customers with a use for their products...

They had planted something like ransomware on Daydream’s intranet.

‘Only section chiefs and above could see the shopping mall ad’s bait link.’

I remembered exactly how to make it appear, too.

‘Click around randomly in the Welfare Mall, then hit Back five times in a row...’

CLICK, CLICK, CLICK...

BEEP.

Suddenly, a tiny green hand appeared in a corner of the Welfare Mall screen.

A pixelated left hand, waving as if in greeting to catch my attention.

A speech bubble popped up above it.

1st Anniversary Thank-You Sale! Up to 80% Off

Bored at work? >>Click

Want to get stronger? >>Click

Want cool stuff? >>Click

‘That’s tacky.’

It looked like an internet banner ad from ages ago.

But amazingly, clicking this amateurish thing!

Would miraculously open the external internet from within the intranet and whisk you away to the aliens’ website.

I wanted to click it right now, but!

‘Hold back.’

Instead, I right-clicked to copy only the link, pasted the URL into Excel, and took a picture of it with my phone.

‘Company PCs log every site you visit.’

Nothing good could come of leaving a record of clicking alien ransomware. Especially under somebody else’s account.

A little later, when my superiors returned from their smoke break, I nodded in greeting as though nothing had happened.

“Roe Deer! Once the team leader gets back from his outside work, let’s have a welcome dinner. On the company card.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Then I waited until it was time to go home.

* * *

Evening, after my momentous first day at work.

But my work wasn’t over yet.

“Let’s do this.”

I’d gone home after depositing the twenty million won.

Now, in my bedroom, I was using image recognition to copy the Alien Shop’s bait link from the photo in my phone’s gallery.

After fixing a few parts it hadn’t read correctly, I opened a browser and pasted it into the address bar.

“Whew.”

A deep breath... and Enter.

CLICK.

The page loaded through the complicated URL in the address bar.

A screen appeared in a similar format to Daydream Inc.’s Welfare Mall... then broke apart.

And a new page appeared.

A screen with painfully conspicuous underlining and fonts, like something from the early 2000s internet.

<Space Shopping Mall>

※Cool Stuff from Outer Space※~!!

>>I view the goods

PEW, PEW, PEW.

A green spaceship spun in the corner.

‘This is seriously tacky.’

But I couldn’t let its dated appearance lull me into a false sense of security.

Clicking “goods” here would reveal an assortment of extraordinary supernatural merchandise.

... The problem was that the prices were extraordinary too.

They started at a minimum of a million won.

... It was the result of imaginative inflation, born from ghost-story creators’ swollen egos insisting, “I’m going to make mine more expensive!”

As recently as yesterday, I couldn’t have bought a single one of these items...

‘But now I have twenty million won.’

My heart beat a little faster. Being able to buy things from a fictional world in person was definitely a dopamine rush.

“Whew.”

At last, I clicked the “goods” tab.

The screen loaded.

Goods

Blood-Drinking Tableware - ₩14,999,999

Longer-Range Radio - ₩4,999,999

Alice Picnic Set - ₩11,999,999

We Help! - ₩66,666,666

※Sale! ※ Silver Snake - ₩4,999,999

₩19,999,999

“...!”

I recognized more than half the items.

Was my luck finally turning around?

‘Yes!’

Elated, I quickly searched my memory.

Blood-Drinking Tableware.

A weapon consisting of a small fork and knife: blades that drank their victims’ blood and evolved to become larger and sharper.

Quite literally, a growth-type weapon.

Longer-Range Radio.

A toy radio that let you communicate remotely with other people even inside ghost stories.

It would be extremely useful when I had teammates.

Alice Picnic Set.

As the name suggested, these were food items inspired by Alice in Wonderland.

If I remembered correctly, the set contained a drink that temporarily doubled an item’s effects and cookies that halved them.

Those were all the items I knew.

I didn’t know the remaining two, but intriguing title aside, We Help! was far beyond my budget, so I could skip that.

‘The Silver Snake is on sale.’

Buying something on sale would probably make me feel like I’d gotten a good deal.

“... Hmm.”

I folded my arms.

A weapon, a communications device, buff potions, and a sale item... was it?

My budget was twenty million won.

Which purchase would give me the best value within that limit?

“All right.”

My mind made up, I clicked.