Humanity Protection Company

TL/Editor: raei

Schedule:

Illustrations: None.

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The broken glass window connected the laboratory to the containment room.

Through the open frame, they could clearly see Song Siwoo, entranced by the anomaly. He had stopped in his tracks after passing the lectern, his head turned to the side, his eyes moving left to right, up and down.

Rustle— the sound of a page turning echoed directly, not through the speakers.

"Damn it! Why did you do something so stupid?"

The researcher clutched his head, his face contorted. The change in the anomalous entity, the destruction of the containment room, and the impending death—everything was like a sharp spike piercing his brain.

Han Changseong, who had restrained the researcher, and Kang Yeol, who provided the scissors, both widened their eyes.

"If he stays like that, won't he die too?"

"We need to save him."

They reflexively moved toward the glass-framed doorway covered in glass powder.

The researcher, holding a handful of hair, glared at them with bloodshot eyes. A rough, low voice slipped out.

"Don't do anything."

A cold, rational glint shone briefly in his red-tinged eyes.

"We can't feed that thing more victims. It seems to gain additional traits and power the more people it consumes. If you mess up, everyone in this lab could die. Stay put until containment measures are completed."

"So... what you're saying is..."

Difficult words. Kang Yeol and Han Changseong interpreted them professionally. As if there was a dangerous criminal wielding a weapon in there, as if there was an explosive they didn’t know how to disarm installed in there.

They finally understood the gravity of the situation and the mistakes they had made. The weight of it was heavy.

"...Understood. We're sorry."

They bowed their heads, closing their eyes tightly and turning away from Song Siwoo. Sometimes, they had to stand by and watch someone die.

At that moment,

Click— click click—

The sound of a door handle turning repeatedly was heard. It was Park Sangjoon. He shook the door back and forth, almost breaking the handle, but the door didn’t open even though it wasn’t locked.

"I need to get out. Let me out. Please, please. I'm begging you."

Gripping the handle tightly, Park Sangjoon looked back and forth between Dr. Kim and the researcher. His dilated pupils trembled rapidly. It seemed like his PTSD had triggered, or his mind had broken under the pressure.

The researcher shook his head and addressed not only Park Sangjoon but all the new recruits.

"When the glass shattered, this place was sealed off. No one can leave until the containment team arrives."

"No, no. No!"

Bang, bang, bang!

Park Sangjoon hit the door repeatedly, then collapsed to the floor. His fist, which had been pounding the door, slid down. Kneeling in front of the door, he lowered his head, his shoulders shaking.

"..."

A gloomy silence settled over the room.

The sharp noise from the guard's sunglasses, the sound of the researcher repeatedly typing on the keyboard and pressing buttons, the new recruits' nervous footsteps and heavy breathing, and the sound of pages turning filled the air.

"..."

Yeonwoo looked at the unyielding door, the shattered window, and the anomaly driving Song Siwoo toward death.

He felt like he had been doused in ice water.

"Excuse me, Dr. Kim, and you, the researcher."

"What is it?"

The researcher replied, still staring at the monitor. Dr. Kim remained silent, continuing to observe the new recruits with an evaluating gaze.

But now, evaluation wasn't important. His survival instinct was sounding the alarm. He swallowed hard.

Yeonwoo looked at Song Siwoo and spoke.

"Shouldn't we save him?"

Thud!

The researcher slammed the keyboard in frustration. He turned his chair roughly and glared at Yeonwoo with a fierce expression. His voice was even fiercer.

"It won't work. Just stay put."

"No."

Yeonwoo's gaze remained fixed on the lectern.

How many pages had turned earlier? Forty? The person now seemed to have turned about twenty pages. It wasn't too late yet.

"You said the anomaly gets stronger the more people it kills. If that person dies, it might be able to move on its own, or make the rest of us want to read it."

The implication that they would be in danger if Song Siwoo died.

A deeper silence fell.

The researcher's face turned pale. Comparing the past experiment data with the current changes, he reached a conclusion.

"That's not entirely impossible..."

The new recruits took a deep breath and stepped back instinctively. But in the sealed room, there was nowhere to escape. They pressed their backs against the cabinet as far as possible.

Only Han Changseong moved forward, crushing glass shards underfoot.

"I'll do it. Just as long as I don't look at the book, right?"

He spoke in a voice heavy with guilt and responsibility, glaring at the lectern.

The researcher looked up at him for a moment before shaking his head solemnly. The smell of blood still lingered from his bitten lip. Maybe the scent of blood from the subject had wafted through the broken window frame.

"Cultural disasters can be avoided if you don't perceive them. But, like the subject earlier, that person will try to keep looking at it."

"Like an addict."

"In the struggle, can you guarantee you won't see it? Or can you subdue him with your eyes closed?"

Han Changseong was a former firefighter, strong and fit. He wouldn't lack in strength or stamina.

"..."

Han Changseong turned to the researcher, his face shadowed by the white light behind him.

"Even so, isn't it safer to save him than to do nothing?"

"...As long as you don't get drawn in by the book."

"Understood."

He nodded, then turned and walked forward. He stepped over the broken window frame, through the path of glass shards, up to the lectern.

Those left in the lab watched his back intently. He stopped in front of the lectern.

Han Changseong glanced at Song Siwoo's eyes. They didn't blink. The dry, red eyes were fixed on the book, with a sense of unknown terror in the busily moving pupils.

Hoo—

He exhaled, stretching and bending his arms, adjusting his footing. He simulated how he would subdue him.

In that moment, another page turned. He shut his eyes tightly and lunged forward.

"Ugh!"

In the darkness of closed eyes, he extended his leg to trip, twisted the arm behind the back, and pushed with his weight.

He felt the sensation of the move landing correctly, the buoyancy of both falling, the cushion of Song Siwoo's body, and the dull pain of his knees hitting the floor.

Crash—

He heard the delayed sound of bodies hitting the ground and the cries of a person trapped by the anomaly struggling.

"Let go! Let go!"

"Stay still!"

He twisted and writhed, using all his strength to break free, his head shaking wildly.

Han Changseong, eyes tightly shut, maintained his hold with all his strength. He applied his weight and held the joints. Song Siwoo's body jerked for a while before it stilled.

"Huff, huff."

Had it worked? Song Siwoo was only breathing heavily, no longer struggling. Whether due to exhaustion or regaining his senses, it seemed the restraint was successful.

"Whew, if only I had handcuffs."

Han Changseong, catching his breath, slightly opened his eyes. Lying face down, he wouldn't see the book. He wanted to assess the situation.

And then, he saw it.

"Ah...?"

Did they hit the lectern while struggling? Did Song Siwoo hit it while thrashing around? Or did it fall by itself?

Thud, the book fell in front of their faces.

A black cover, a small journal, thin in thickness. The pages were filled with handwriting, like a diary.

Rustle, rustle, rustle.

The book's pages turned in quick succession until it reached the end. At the same time, there was a squelching sound, like chewing meat, and a strong smell of blood filled the air.

Han Changseong, trembling, lifted his head. Everything in front of him was red. Song Siwoo was bleeding profusely. His gaze, which had been fixed on the book, finally found freedom and stared aimlessly into space.

"Ah, ah."

Conversely, Han Changseong's gaze was drawn like a magnet to the anomaly that had revealed its front cover.

"38 Reasons I Should Die."

Rustle—

The page turned, revealing the first reason.

[It was a hot summer night. As I lay down to sleep, I looked at the wide-open window and thought of jumping out. I didn't want to die, nor did I want to live. So, I jumped.]

Rustle—

The page turned again. Han Changseong couldn’t take his eyes off it. No, he couldn’t look away. Eyes wide open, he read and reread the reasons someone had died.

The sound of pages turning echoed in the laboratory.

“F*ck….”

Someone cursed.

Neither Han Changseong's face nor the book could be seen. The lectern blocked them. Unfortunately, the position where they had fallen was such.

But the fact that the two bodies, which had been wrestling moments ago, were now still like corpses, the intensifying smell of blood, and the spreading pool of blood beyond the lectern—all of this was palpable in the laboratory.

Even the most oblivious person could tell something had gone terribly wrong.

"Blood! There's blood over there!"

"Calm down!"

The researcher waved a hand toward Park Sangjoon, who was about to panic. Pointing at the computer, the researcher spoke calmly.

"We just received contact from the security office! The containment team for 'Reasons I Should Die' will arrive in 30 minutes! We just need to hold out for 30 minutes!"

'Damn it.'

Thirty minutes.

An excessively long time to endure an anomaly that kills people. It wouldn't be surprising if everyone here died.

Yeonwoo decided to prioritize his own survival. To hell with the job evaluation and everything else, surviving came first.