And so, another weak and pathetic morning dawned.
-Morning has begun. All workers, please prepare for today’s tasks~
I woke up in the cramped worker breakroom along with the corpse. My body was still in a trashed state.
I had harbored a sliver of hope that I might be back in my own bed at home, but it was a baseless expectation.
‘Sigh….’
Of course not.
‘There’s no way this ghost story world would be that easy.’
I rubbed my face with my dry palms and got up from the worn-out, torn mattress.
My body, which had consumed nothing but chocolate, complained of joint pain, and my head felt dizzy. Even in that state, I struggled not to look at the stiff corpse with its eyes wide open at the far end of the wall.
‘Sigh.’
I lay there, staying as far away as possible, brainwashing myself into thinking it was just a mannequin. Though, because my physical condition was so poor, I had slept as if I were unconscious…
‘Being in such a trashed condition actually helps in this way.’
-The morning roll call will be conducted in 10 minutes. Have a prosperous day~
Even the morning announcements felt like something from an illegal labor dormitory for debtors. It really felt like I was going to lose my mind.
Entering a ghost story in this condition was a different kind of terror than when I was in the Security Team.
‘The days when I was a regular employee, when merchandise would come down from the mysterious black box, feel like a dream….’
However, even in this miserable state, my head could still function.
And the plan was clear.
‘…Good.’
After taking a deep breath, I staggered and stood by the door.
Beep!
A moment later, the door opened.
I immediately scanned the hallway outside.
People in shabby uniforms were emerging from every worker breakroom door lined up along the hallway.
…Just as written in the diary, people with strange, hollow eyes.
[Workers in the Z800s and 900s, begin moving. Do not delay.]
The indifferent voice of a staff member gave instructions over the announcements, and the workers began to move as if accustomed to it.
‘Whoops.’
Following them, I gritted my teeth and moved my feet.
But as I got closer, almost joining the group, some workers openly frowned and avoided me, or hurled curses when our eyes met.
“Fuck, what are you staring at?”
There was even someone who tried to kick me away.
Though he was stopped in a different sense.
“Hey, hey, why would you even touch something so filthy?”
“Fuck, if you stick to me, my foot’s coming out first next time.”
“…….”
No… this is driving me crazy.
‘I guess it’s because I’m the very last number.’
Let’s just move on. I barely have enough calories to spend on walking….
‘Geez.’
Even in this abysmal environment, a strong hierarchical structure could be felt within the ‘worker’ group. Or rather, it might be even more prevalent because the working environment was such a sewer.
‘For now, let’s not stand out.’
I mustn't forget that today is about scouting. I quietly followed at the very end of the line.
After walking a bit more, the end of the hallway came into view.
The passage to the ‘Rest Area’ was still closed. The place where I had first opened my eyes, where the withered ritual table was.
Instead, the side door was open, revealing a new space.
‘…!’
…It was a spacious indoor area divided into three sections like a stable.
{Work Waiting Area}
The atmosphere of shabby and rusted facilities remained the same, but a clean sign, in Daydream’s standard format, was attached to the top as if it had been added later.
And in each section stood ‘staff’ wearing clothes that looked like full-body hazmat suits.
‘They’re the personnel.’
It was my first time seeing people who weren't workers inside here. And the logos and name tags on their uniforms….
Were very familiar to me.
‘They’re Guard Team staff.’
Daydream security name tags. The moment they entered my sight, my mind seemed to accelerate reflexively.
‘This really is a facility under Daydream.’
The moment I realized it, a shiver resembling relief briefly brushed past my chest.
[Yes, yes. Get your task assignments from the person in charge.]
The Security Team members holding clipboards approached the people packed into the sections, checking them off starting from the smaller numbers, much like a labor market.
I stood quietly in the corner where the Z-group was gathered, observing the crowd of workers out of the corner of my eye.
The ones in relatively… better conditions were, as expected, the X-group.
“Number 491? Uh, that crazy kid, I don’t know. He wouldn’t come out of the room.”
“Did you hear? Fuck, they say he lost his mind. Hilarious.”
“His IQ level is so low he loses his mind because he’s scared of ghosts~”
I recognized the two men from the X-group who were snickering while talking about a Y-group member who couldn't make it to the roll call.
‘They’re the bastards I saw when I first opened my eyes.’
The ones who poured water on my head and hit me at the ritual table.
Let’s see, checking their numbers on the red stickers attached to their bodies….
‘X145, X141.’
They were definitely earlier numbers than my Worker Z999.
Considering what was written in the diary… those seemed to be among the better numbers in this workplace.
-It seems they roughly divide the worker grades into X, Y, and Z.. I went to X. Looking at the rooms, it seems the earlier the alphabet, the better.
‘Are they acting all high and mighty because they have a good ranking here…?’
If they run into a single Darkness the wrong way, they could end up like the person in my room in an instant.
For a moment, I almost felt pity for those humans who didn't realize they were running barefoot through a field of unexploded mines, but I soon snapped out of it. Their situation would obviously be better than mine, a Worker Z999….
And people who pour water on someone’s face and hit them aren't normal anyway. Let's move on.
Regardless, I had checked the overall state of the workers.
‘…As you go further back in groups and higher in numbers, do there tend to be fewer people per room?’
And if I looked closely, some people in slightly ‘strange’ states caught my eye one by one….
For instance, someone clutching a set of Rubik’s Cube tiles without the numbers and spinning them like crazy, someone mumbling to themselves, someone whose hair was half-burnt, and someone standing barefoot with a blank expression were visible right near me.
‘…It must be contamination symptoms.’
Are they even receiving treatment? It’s impossible to tell.
But the opportunity to find out came soon enough.
“Yes, yes…. All three of us from our room are here.”
…After the roll call for the room in front ended, a Security Team member came before me.
“…….”
I looked to see if there were any identifiable physical characteristics, but these Security Team staff members at the Namhae Branch were strangely featureless.
Since they were covered in identical full-body hazmat suits, everyone looked the same.
‘They seem… mass-produced.’
Instead of the eerie and dangerous atmosphere felt from the Security Team at headquarters, there was a strong sense of dissonance that comes from looking at an impersonal, non-human group.
I looked at the head of the hazmat suit and spoke.
“…Hello.”
No answer came back.
The security staff member with the clipboard looked at my number and indifferently checked the Worker Z999 slot with a circle.
And on the item just above mine, which still said ‘Z993’, he indifferently checked it with an X.
Good, now.
“That person, I think he’s dead….”
The checking stopped.
“He, he keeps… doing this, shouldn’t he have been sent to… a place like a medical room?”
I spoke in a deliberately clumsy voice, as if saying whatever came to mind out of fear.
A short, dry silence followed.
And then the security staff member raised his hand….
And pointed toward the back of the waiting area.
“…….”
When I turned my head, I saw a worker notice posted on the wall.
{Additional purchases of items and services necessary for living can be made on a voluntary basis.
(CASH ONLY, NO CARDS)}
What kind of crazy nonsense is this?
‘Could it be… even the medical room is a service the worker has to purchase on their own?’
Someone save me, seriously….
What kind of capitalistic hell is this? The working environment itself was nothing short of a ghost story.
However, asking a question like ‘Do I happen to have cash’ would clearly seem too suspicious for someone who had already spent over two weeks here, so I stopped there.
I’d have a chance to figure it out naturally.
“O-okay….”
I muttered, and the morning roll call for workers concluded with the Security Team member passing me by with his clipboard.
And then, the long-awaited ‘work’ began.
[Groups X, Y, and Z in the 990s will move together.]
About a dozen workers, including myself, were blindfolded and moved somewhere on foot, then moved again while loaded onto a transport vehicle.
Whirrrr-
The creaking noise and the engine exhaust made it difficult to figure out where and how we were moving.
What was certain was that we arrived somewhere after about 5 to 10 minutes.
[Yes. Arrival confirmed.]
[Workers, remove your blindfolds and prepare to disembark.]
When the blindfolds were finally removed, a rusted space was revealed.
And only then could I see that I was riding in something like a minecart on an old rail.
‘Hmm.’
The interior was closed off like a lounge and brought to mind a tunnel or a prison facility, but the humidity was strangely high, with drops of water falling to the floor.
Drip.
A gloomy and dilapidated feeling.
‘If you keep them quarantined in a place like this, won't even a safe ghost story turn crooked….’
They really went all-in on the branch concept. Which bastard made this?
[Workers, everyone disembark!]
Regardless, I got off according to the announcement, which was the same here as everywhere else.
[Security Team, please check that their arm guards are worn.]
Soon, a fairly thick wristband, looking like a blood pressure monitor, was fastened around my left forearm.
And it was locked so that I couldn't take it off myself.
‘…Whew.’
Around me, I could hear the higher-numbered workers mumbling unverified evil-averting incantations, or the lower-numbered workers chatting and laughing.
Under the security staff’s supervision, I ended up standing in front of a door in the middle of a hallway indistinguishable from the outside.
[Deploying Worker Z999.]
The iron door opened with a screeching sound.
And I was shoved inside the door by the security staff member. My weak body was moved without resistance.
‘Wait.’
Like this, without even a manual?
Screech, thud.
But before I could say anything, the door closed behind me.
‘Wow, please.’
This is driving me crazy, seriously….
I was trapped.
Instinctive fear began to rise.
‘I’m going to experience a ghost story from now on….’
Tension reflexively gripped the back of my neck. It had been so long since I was trapped in a dark, sealed space with something obviously terrifying that I squeezed my eyes shut.
The reason I didn't scream might have been because I lacked the energy for even that….
“…Whew.”
Regardless, to get out of here safely, I have to do my job properly.
After taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes and looked straight ahead.
“…….”
The dark interior.
In the unpaved containment cell, concrete walls were visible beside the dirt floor.
Amidst the damp, humid smell, a single red lamp dimly cast its light downward into the dusk. That light eerily illuminated a dilapidated chair. And sitting alone on that chair….
…Was a wooden doll.
-For now, up until today, they’ve been making me set fire to the wooden doll with a lighter every day.
Cold sweat trickled down.
‘Darn it.’
It was the ghost story that the deceased Z993 had been in charge of.
-I’msorrypleasesavemeI’msorrypleasesavemeI’msorrypleasesavemeI’msorrypleasesavemeI’msorrypleasesavemeI’msorrypleasesavemeI’msorrypleasesavemeI’msorrypleasesa vemeI’msorrypleasesaveme
As the last page of the diary came to mind, my mouth began to go dry.
Why this, of all things?
At the very least, it was a Darkness that had been proven to be lethal if mishandled. The greasy wooden doll had vivid burn marks all over its body, and every time I saw it, the contents of the diary came to mind, making my blood run cold.
‘But, what I thought while reading the diary was….’
[Worker Z999.]
“…!”
I suddenly looked up.
[Yes, you can hear me, Worker Z999. Now, try hitting that wooden doll.]
“…….”
A voice came through the announcements, as if speakers were placed somewhere in the room.
The indifferent voice of a researcher.
But….
‘Hit it?’
For now, up until today, they’ve been making me set fire to the wooden doll with a lighter every day.
Similar to the person before me, it was an action that anyone could see was unsettling.
‘Sigh.’
A situation where I wasn't autonomously clearing a ghost story but had to perform the task the researcher ordered.
And one that… had a high probability of backfiring!
[Don’t look around here and follow the instructions.]
“…Excuse me.”
No answer came back.
I stood still in my place.
[If you hold out and don’t do it, we’ll leave you there until you do. You know you won’t get your daily wage if you’re late, so why are you being like this.]
“……Researcher-nim. Are you there….”
[If you don’t implement it following the next instruction, you will receive a points penalty.]
“…….”
I turned my head.
Toward the ghastly wooden doll on the chair.
[I said hit it.]
I approached it step by step.
[Hurry up.]
Then, I raised one hand and struck the doll.
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