That feeling was there.
The kind where overly quiet places make you anxious instead.
I was the same.
"Ugh, this is..."
An instinctive sense of dread. It felt like some invisible force was crushing me.
If I had to put a word to it, pressure.
"What the hell is..."
Before I could even finish, an unknown force shoved me aside, and while I stood there stunned, the elevator doors snapped shut in a flash.
"..."
Is this right?
I opened the manual again.
[Office Manual]
2-1. Move forward. No matter what lies ahead, you must advance.
"..."
What if this manual actually has a mind of its own? If I were a typical office worker, I'd laugh it off as nonsense, but unfortunately, my life is far from that of an ordinary employee.
Those thoughts didn't last long, though. Soon, I started stepping forward slowly once more.
Before long, the scenery ahead began to warp bit by bit. I was clearly walking straight, yet my feet and body veered automatically to the right. And the strangest part? I perceived myself as walking in a straight line.
It was an utterly bizarre situation, but even as an office worker, I'm still part of the Management Bureau. I have my own little differences from everyone else.
I kept my eyes closed and took step after step. Opening them would only mess up my senses even more anyway.
Thud!
"Ack!"
How far had I gone when my forehead smacked into something solid.
I cracked my eyes open, and the winding path had vanished. In front of me now stood a single, heavy iron door.
I quickly flipped open the manual.
[Office Manual]
2-2. Only those recognized as members of the Management Bureau through proper procedures may pass through this door. Those not recognized as members cannot open it.
*Forcing it open will lead to an irreversible end.
"Just you wait until I find whoever wrote this shitty manual."
Why bother adding that ominous note? Just say only authorized personnel can open it.
Now I was getting needlessly worried.
What if I'm not actually a properly registered Management Bureau office worker?
What if office workers like me are disposable number ones, unlike field agents, and unregistered ones end up in some fate worse than death?
In that case, wouldn't it be better to just wait here until everything blows over? No one comes down to the basement anyway.
Ding.
An elevator arrival chime echoed from far away, and a sudden ominous feeling washed over me.
I glanced back casually, but of course, I'd walked quite a distance, so the elevator was out of sight.
Still, why did that sound ring so loudly? Unease crept in.
"...Damn it..."
No, come on. I'm a Management Bureau employee with an ID badge. Of course I'm authorized.
Right?
I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed. A brilliant light shone down on me.
"Huh...?"
Did I screw up? Am I about to become a test subject in that rumored Management Bureau paradise recreation experiment?
That thought didn't last. What unfolded before me was an ordinary office, completely different from the corridor vibe.
"Ughhh..."
"You okay... Uh, person...?"
The only differences were a man collapsed on the floor, covered head to toe in blood, and a black-haired woman staring at me in shock.
"!"
Before I could react, the long-haired woman drew a pistol from her waist and aimed it at me.
"It's a person! A person!"
Of course, as an office worker, I wasn't armed. I quickly raised both hands to show I was harmless.
"Stand down, rookie."
"Team Leader...!"
"Anyone who can get in here is human anyway. That's how it's designed."
The man clutching his side took a deep breath and continued. Only then did the woman hesitate and lower her gun.
"Um, s-sorry about that."
"No... I didn't know either."
This was my first time in the basement, after all.
We exchanged awkward greetings, then I checked on the man holding his side.
Blood was seeping through. Looked like he'd been hit or shot by something.
Focusing my gaze on him brought up a translucent window.
[Name: Park Wooju]
[Age: 37]
[Trait: Quick Reflexes]
[Talent: Marksmanship]
[Background: This man, living as the Security Team Leader of the Management Bureau, is dying after a fierce battle.]
"..."
Dying.
In my experience, no one whose background said that had ever escaped that fate.
From observing and feeling out my ability countless times, I'd drawn a few conclusions. Backgrounds reflect the past and very near future.
For example, if I looked at the HR Team Leader, his background read: [Living as a family man, he pulls another all-nighter today to provide his family with a meal.]
That weaves together the facts of his overtime and his family.
I couldn't predict what those... monsters might do to the Team Leader. Survival, death, or replacement—impossible to say.
But this man was explicitly [dying], so he probably didn't have much time left.
"Listen carefully."
Snapping out of my thoughts at the man's ragged voice, I turned back to him.
"We don't know how many in our branch are still alive. Or exactly what happened."
He took a heavy breath.
"In the worst case, assume you two are the only survivors left who can act inside the Management Bureau."
"Team Leader, you need to—!"
The woman nearby tried to stop him, but he pressed on regardless.
"Then you two must carry out the containment procedures. If not, at least relay orders to off-duty or remote personnel to resolve this from outside."
Containment procedures.
The one job among field roles that strictly considers seniority and experience. The team where people die constantly yet standards never loosen, and the highest-paid one.
Containment Team.
And now he's asking me to do their job?
"Uh... I'm just an HR office worker."
"...I know."
He met my eyes.
"I know."
"..."
"But if you don't do it, no one will. At least not right now."
"Team Leader, if you keep talking...!"
Blood gushed from his mouth, but he kept staring straight at me.
"Please. I beg you..."
His gaze shifted to one wall, and mine followed.
[Humanity's Last Bastion]
"Please... I beg you..."
"...Understood."
I nodded to his words, and soon his body slid limply down.
"Team Leader! Team Leader!"
He never opened his eyes again.
The woman shook his shoulder repeatedly, but only silence answered.
In truth, the window above his head no longer appeared.
"...He's dead."
At my words, the woman finally released his shoulder and stood.
"...Will you help?"
"With containment?"
Our eyes met.
Only then did I notice her translucent window.
[Name: Yoo Daon]
[Age: 23]
[Trait: Immortality]
[Talent: -]
[Background: Unable to die, she was hired by the Management Bureau for that ability, but on her first day, a major incident awaited her.]
"..."
"Um, hello?"
"Ah, yeah."
I'd been too stunned to respond.
Immortality? That immortality? As in, doesn't die?
"...Yoo Daon. And you?"
"Kim Jaeheon..."
She eyed me suspiciously.
"...Anyway, we should get going."
But as if nothing happened, she brushed off her knees, stood, and placed her hand on the iron door.
"...Right now?"
"...The Team Leader asked us to handle containment."
"Even so, we can't just charge out like this."
Containment procedures aren't simple.
They involve using every means possible, without restraint, to contain. For that,
"Let's share what we know first."
At my words, she hesitated, then began.
"...First off, those things...? They disguise themselves as humans. They make it impossible to tell friend from foe, then strike suddenly from inside."
She bit her lip hard.
"The problem is... we have no way to detect them. That's why so many died. The Team Leader and I barely escaped."
"...I see."
Wearing human skins. That's what it meant.
"So if we can identify who they are, we can solve this?"
Contrary to my hope, Yoo Daon shook her head.
"Not exactly... but knowing the enemies would make handling things easier, right?"
"No worries then."
She gave me a puzzled look, but I was confident.
"I have a good eye for people."
Good enough to distinguish humans from non-humans.