Humanity Protection Company

TL/Editor: raei

Schedule:

Illustrations: None.

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[Regarding the Treatment of Error NPCs]

The reason we didn't put bomb collars on the necks of error NPCs was that we feared they might exploit them as a means of escape.

However, as seen in the recent error expansion incident, if they are willing to cooperate with the company, it might be worth implementing.

In return, we would have to treat them more like humans.

Of course, error NPCs are anomalies. How could beings that appeared one day with their current form be considered human?

The company's strict rule is that no matter how humanlike an anomaly behaves, it is not human. Therefore, fundamentally, the previous treatment was not wrong.

But the company also mandates that if treating anomalies like humans helps manage them, exceptions can be made.

We will improve the treatment of error NPCs.

We will move them from padded isolated rooms without self-harm means to rooms where humans live. We will provide the same meals as employees and allow some leisure activities.

And, we must start by finding the Trapped Man and the repeating man.

---

---

The report was accessed using the team leader's account.

'Thank goodness. This is good.'

Lee Yeonwoo read the report over and over, then exhaled softly. The sacrifice of the Trapped Man was rewarded. His worries about whether the company would change its policy or impose more restrictions were relieved.

The day the company and the Trapped Man face each other again, it will be as person to person, as he had hoped.

Yeonwoo leaned slowly against the back of his chair. The old chair creaked.

Creak—

At that moment, Yoo Ji-yoo, sitting next to Yeonwoo's desk, glanced at the news on her phone and then showed it to him.

"This is about what you went through recently, right?"

"Huh? Oh."

Yeonwoo leaned forward, fixing his eyes on the phone. On the small screen, a reporter was speaking, the location being the center of the error he had stood in recently.

The reporter pointed to the devastated street with her hand while walking, and the camera panned to show the extensive damage.

[I'm currently at the site of a series of explosions in Cheonghae City. As you can see, it looks like a war zone.]

"What, this is on the news."

It was even on a major network. He thought the company would handle it discreetly, but it had made it to the news.

Yeonwoo, his head buried in the phone, looked at Ji-yoo in confusion, but she just gestured for him to keep watching.

[Five vehicles, including an oil tanker and LPG delivery trucks, collided in a chain reaction and exploded, triggering a large-scale explosion that also affected the gas pipelines. The cause of the accident was revealed to be an underage driver smoking while driving without a license—]

Yeonwoo's mouth dropped open. His eyes widened in disbelief.

An oil tanker, yes. Gas explosions, yes. An underage driver, plausible. But all these combined?

"Do people believe this? It's absurd."

"Most people will just accept it. Some might not believe it, but it's not a big issue."

Ji-yoo paused the video, searched for another related news clip, and played it.

An interview with an elderly man.

[Kim Choon-duk: I can't remember anything. My mind is, uh, blank.]

[Citizens of Cheonghae City, who witnessed the disaster, are complaining of traumatic amnesia.]

Traumatic amnesia.

Yeonwoo blinked. Now that he thought about it, he had often heard the term "traumatic amnesia" in the news.

Chain collisions, random murders, explosions, building collapses, accidents, accidents, many accidents.

A realization hit him. Yeonwoo spoke.

"Is traumatic amnesia not due to psychological shock but because of memory erasers?"

"Exactly. They spray it in mist form, put it in the water supply, and use a ton whenever there's a major anomaly incident."

Ji-yoo casually took her phone back. Her nails tapped rhythmically on the screen.

"And they say there's a lot of information manipulation too. Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to say."

Yoo Ji-yoo placed her phone on the desk and slowly slid her chair back, distancing herself from Yeonwoo. As Yeonwoo stared blankly at her, Ji-yoo scrutinized him with a suspicious look.

"I'm really glad you came back unharmed. But, Yeonwoo, are you really not cursed or something? How does it always happen when you go out..."

She stopped, thinking it would be rude to continue, but Yeonwoo understood what she meant. He couldn't deny it.

Yeonwoo sighed deeply and knocked his head against the back of the chair.

"...I think so too."

Since the start of the Human Qualification Exam, something felt terribly wrong. His life seemed to be unraveling in every possible way.

'Maybe I should actually consult a shaman...'

Suddenly, Yeonwoo leaned over his desk and spoke loudly.

"Team Leader, do you know any good shamans by any chance?"

"Rookie."

The team leader answered without even lifting his head, his voice slightly exasperated.

"If such shamans existed, they'd be anomalies. The company would have captured them all. Don't waste your money on talismans or rituals."

"...Then is there a priest or monk you know? Someone who could offer psychological comfort, even if it’s not effective?"

The team leader slowly raised his head and made eye contact with Yeonwoo. His eyes looked dull and exhausted.

Well, considering the number of anomalies he's encountered in such a short time... Even the error alone was at danger level 4... It's a miracle he survived.

But there was nothing he could do. The team leader avoided Yeonwoo’s hollow eyes.

"I do know a priest, but he's not what you're hoping for."

Disappointed, Yeonwoo lowered his head onto the desk. Then he raised it again, remembering another request.

"Then, Team Leader, can we at least get some weapons? Even a handgun?"

Honestly, he didn't need a shaman or anything. Just having a proper weapon would make him feel much safer. Ji-yoo, seemingly thinking the same, joined in and looked at the team leader.

"Team Leader, isn't it a bit much to only have a knife? If we at least had a handgun, we wouldn’t get hurt by fog monsters—"

The team leader shook his head again.

"Rookie. Ji-yoo. What kind of country do we live in?"

"Huh?"

"Civilians can't own firearms. We're civilians. The guys with guns in the special forces are officially under the Ministry of Defense. They're actual soldiers."

Suddenly, the team leader stood up, seemingly reminded of something, and began to raise his voice angrily.

"Why do the security guards use those damn tasers? Foreigners all carry guns! Those damn snake bastards! One shot and it's over! Calling that a gun, bullsh*t!"

Yeonwoo and Ji-yoo briefly looked at each other, then lowered their heads and focused on their work.

No matter how frustrated and angry they felt, when the other person reacted more intensely, it drained their energy. They could only sigh deeply inside.

Ignoring the team leader who was now stomping his feet, Yeonwoo looked around his desk.

'Where did I leave my phone?'

He was sure he had left it somewhere on the desk, but it was nowhere to be seen. Yeonwoo searched around his desk for a bit, then gave up and closed his eyes.

The image of the dice appeared vividly.

'Where is my phone?'

Roll—

As soon as he focused intently, the dice rolled in his mind. Soon, the dice stopped.

Miss!

Nothing happened. Yeonwoo thought again.

'Once more. Phone.'

Roll—

Success!

Suddenly, he saw his phone. It was deep under the monitor. Yeonwoo retrieved it, wearing a somewhat ambiguous expression.

‘The dice. Not bad at all.’

After a few experiments, he found it somewhat useful.

Mostly it landed on nothing, with occasional successes and failures.

A double-edged sword, but handy for small tasks like finding lost items or recalling forgotten passwords.

‘I haven’t experienced a critical success or critical failure yet, but since they rarely happen, there’s no need to worry about—’

Bang!

The door to the Anomaly Investigation Team's office burst open, slamming into the wall. Yeonwoo, Ji-yoo, and even the still-angry team leader stopped and looked at the door.

Huff, huff.

There stood Choi Jae-min, drenched in sweat and gasping for breath. Without catching his breath, he urgently shouted.

"My friend, my friend!"

"Calm down first, kid."

The team leader, as if he hadn't been agitated moments ago, spoke calmly, but Jae-min, squeezing out his last breath, screamed desperately.

"My friend's parents disappeared!"

"...What? You mean, they're missing?"

"No! They don't exist at all! The parents don't exist!"

Jae-min ran up to the team leader, speaking in a panicked and jumbled manner without even catching his breath.

---

---

Choi Jae-min saw the world differently from others.

When he looked at someone with parents, he saw text above their head.

[Father: Choi Dong-hyun (Status: Deceased)]

[Mother: Lee Jin (Status: Healthy)]

Like this.

So, when he arrived in the classroom on Monday after the weekend, he could tell immediately.

“Hey, Jae-min! Hi!”

“Uh… hi.”

The girl sitting next to him, Ah-yoon Baek, looked up at him puzzledly. She blinked her eyes.

“Did you stay up all night? You look tired.”

“Well, I went to bed early…”

Jae-min stood there stiffly, not even putting down his bag, his gaze slightly raised to look above Ah-yoon’s head.

[Father: ]

[Mother: ]

Blank. Meaning they didn’t exist in the first place.

For a person, this was impossible.

In the classroom with no air conditioning, hot summer wind blew in from outside, but a chill crawled up his spine.

Jae-min put his trembling hand in his pocket and grabbed his phone.

‘An anomaly. It’s an anomaly.’

It looked like Ah-yoon and acted like Ah-yoon, but his eyes could see it. This wasn’t a person.

‘Ji-yoo, Yeonwoo, Team Leader. I need to call someone—’

The moment he took out his phone,

Rattle—

The classroom door opened. The homeroom teacher walked in. As soon as he entered, he addressed the students.

“Hand in your phones. Turn them off, no handing in dummy phones, and don’t lie about not bringing them. Especially you, Jae-min. I saw you with your phone.”

“Teacher, just one call—”

“No, you should’ve done that earlier.”

“Teacher! I really forgot it at home today!”

Jae-min, abandoning his attempt to call, looked down at Ah-yoon.

The thought hit him.

‘Ah-yoon. What happened to the real Ah-yoon?’

While he was still processing, the phones were collected, and class began.

Jae-min couldn’t focus on the lesson at all, watching Ah-yoon the entire time.