The Bureau building, which he had not visited in some time, was just as it had always been. Ian sat in the Bureau’s café and quietly gazed out the window.
The cityscape greeting the morning. Busy office workers and students filled the streets, and cars on their morning commute crawled over the asphalt roads. The breaths they exhaled became smoke, helping the trees to breathe. Cherry trees in full bloom swayed this way and that in the wind, sending up waves of pink.
It was an ordinary spring morning, common as could be. Ian sipped the coffee he had ordered and quietly took in the scenery.
“You came sooner than I expected.”
As he sat there, a familiar voice came from across from him.
It was Kim Iseo. Her long-grown pink hair fluttering, she carefully pulled out the chair and sat down.
It was a sudden sharing of his table, but since the matter had already been discussed, Ian did not stop her. Instead, he took the straw from his mouth, leaned back against the chair, and wore a faint smile.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen your face. Isn’t this the first time since the Monkey’s Paw?”
“For all intents and purposes, yes. Personally, I would like to build a little more of a relationship with you, Mage, but I assumed you must have your own circumstances as well. I refrained from contacting you privately as much as possible.”
“You don’t really need to go that far. If we’re splitting hairs, I’m a freelancer too.”
“I see. Understood. Then from next time, I will try contacting you personally little by little.”
At Kim Iseo’s sly remark, Ian let out a small laugh.
“You’re speaking a bit more softly today. Before, I remember you being extremely stiff and official.”
“Unlike with others, I judged that you, Shin Ian, did not particularly prefer stiff conversations that feel overly deferential, so I changed my approach somewhat. If you wish, I will correct my manner of speech to how it was before.”
“No, it’s fine. Just speak however you’re comfortable.”
“Thank you for your consideration. However, please be assured that speaking comfortably does not mean I intend to treat you rudely.”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it, so order something to drink. The clerk’s been staring over here this whole time.”
“Ah.”
At Ian’s remark, Kim Iseo sprang up from her seat and ordered a drink and a cake.
The food was ready in no time. She returned with an iced Americano and a slice of cheesecake, then sat back down.
“Please eat. It’s on me.”
Ian accepted the fork Kim Iseo handed him and cut off a bite of cake. Since it was not from a specialty cake shop, it was not incredibly delicious, but at this level it was reasonably edible. It was better than what most cafés sold.
Clink.
Kim Iseo set her own fork down on the plate and looked at Ian while sipping her coffee.
“It’s decent for something made so quickly, isn’t it?”
“……Quickly? Wasn’t it already made?”
“It’s a cake made by microwaving a dedicated capsule. There’s a Mystery that puts all sorts of food into capsules and hands them out. We made use of that.”
“……It is safe, right?”
At Ian’s uneasy question, Kim Iseo gave a soft laugh.
“It’s a Mystery that has already been verified, so you don’t need to worry. If it were dangerous in the first place, we wouldn’t be using it like this.”
“That’s… true. It looks like a lot of Bureau employees eat it too….”
“Yes. Field agents don’t spend much time in the building, so they don’t come to the café often, but the office staff use this place almost like home. So far, not a single abnormality has ever been detected in their bodies.”
If that was the case, there was nothing to be concerned about. Ian nodded and slowly ate the cake as though savoring it.
Kim Iseo, on the other hand, did not so much as touch the cake. Her behavior was the complete opposite of her confident claim that it was safe.
However, when asked why she was not eating, the answer that came back was purely personal.
“When I was young, I ate far too much cake. So I don’t want to eat it now.”
“A simple preference?”
“Yes. And… when I eat sweet things, unpleasant memories tend to come to mind. Have I ever told you that I was dragged into the cruel fairy tale Hansel and Gretel when I was little?”
“No, this is the first I’ve heard of it.”
Hansel and Gretel.
A fairy tale created in Germany, one of the most typical stories featuring a house made of sweets and a witch. Even in modern times, it was fairly famous; far more people knew it than did not.
But once a fairy tale passed through the hands of a Mystery, it could not help but have a screw or two come loose somewhere. Hansel and Gretel was no exception.
With a bitter smile, Kim Iseo briefly recalled her past.
“It isn’t a particularly special story anyway, so I’ll keep it short. About ten years ago, my entire family was thrown into the world of the fairy tale. Everyone in my family except me died there, and I was the only one who managed to escape.”
“…….”
“The witch used my family as ingredients to make cookies and candies to sell. Fortunately, I never ended up eating them, but she forced me to eat other sweets like mad under the pretext of fattening me up. Since I’d seen the process of making them, I knew that what I ate hadn’t been made with people as ingredients, but still, eating sweet food doesn’t exactly make me feel good.”
“……I’m sorry. I feel like I brought up something unnecessary.”
“Not at all. I was the one who spoke of it on my own.”
Kim Iseo smiled faintly and turned to look out the window. The spring scenery was imprinted in her murky black eyes.
“The reason my hair is pink is because the witch poured dye over it. Originally, even the whites of my eyes and my skin were pink, but fortunately, the Bureau was able to remove that with a procedure. My hair, however, was impossible.”
“Mm….”
“Well, in the past, I got so irritated that I shaved it all off. But it grows back quickly anyway, so now I simply live with it. Other than the hair color being unusual, there isn’t any particular disadvantage.”
“Is revenge why you joined the Bureau? To track down and subjugate fairy tales?”
At Ian’s sudden question, Kim Iseo’s eyes shifted slightly. She was silent for a moment as though thinking, then nodded with an expressionless face.
“That’s right. I joined the Bureau in order to permanently dispose of every cruel fairy tale that exists in the world.”
“That’s impossible. Cruel fairy tales are Mysteries that ultimately have originals. They’re different from ordinary anomalies.”
The difference between beings derived from urban legends and those that were not.
Anomalies without an original source—in simpler terms, pure monster bastards—could be driven to extinction through various means. It was not impossible to kill every individual and make it so they no longer existed in the world.
On the other hand, if something that served as the original story existed in the past or present, like the Eight-Foot Ghost or cruel fairy tales. If people still talked about it. Then the anomalies derived from it could not be wiped out. At most, their numbers could be controlled.
So the permanent subjugation of cruel fairy tales that Kim Iseo wanted was perfectly impossible. It was unfortunate, but that was reality.
“I know.”
Kim Iseo knew this as well.
“But I have to try. If nothing else, at least with Hansel and Gretel.”
“……Well, it’s not something for me to argue about. It’d be absurd for me to tell someone what to do with their personal revenge. More importantly, let’s get to the main point.”
Tap.
Ian set down the cup he was holding and changed the subject. Kim Iseo immediately took out a tablet in response.
“The Museum of the Five Senses. The types of museums identified so far number five in total: the Museum of Sight, the Museum of Hearing, the Museum of Taste, the Museum of Touch, and the Museum of Smell. Of these, Taste and Touch have already been subjugated.”
“How were they dealt with?”
“Fortunately, in the case of those two museums, physical destruction was possible. For Taste, it seems the act of ‘chewing’ something with one’s teeth had to be permitted, and for Touch, the act of ‘touching’ had to be permitted, so physical means could be employed. However, the other three….”
“Are impossible, is what you mean. I understand.”
In order to taste something, one needed to put food in one’s mouth and chew it. There were quite a few foods that only revealed their proper taste once one bit into them and burst the contents, so without using teeth, there were often things lacking.
Therefore, the act of breaking something with teeth had no choice but to be permitted. For similar reasons, physical interference was essential for touch as well.
But what about sight? What about hearing and smell?
Not one of them required interference through physical means.
Eyes merely looked, hearing listened, and smell only took in scents. These three senses, which did nothing but perceive through the organs that already existed without any other means, had little connection to physical destruction. So it was not strange that smashing them apart through brute force was impossible.
“There were quite a few casualties in the process of destroying those two museums, but in the end, we somehow brought them down. The problem occurred at the Museum of Sight.”
“…….”
“In that place, the use of any sense other than sight is not permitted. To put it simply, when appreciating the works, if you use anything other than the concept of ‘seeing,’ you die on the spot.”
“……Hah.”
“Before I give you a precise explanation, please look at this first.”
Slide.
Kim Iseo showed Ian the tablet screen.
An ordinary photograph.
It was a file where, like a diary someone had left behind, entirely different contents were recorded according to the numbers.
“It’s a document discovered by an agent deployed to the site. They said it was in a safe zone.”
Kim Iseo said.
“The Bureau’s judgment is that it was likely a note left behind by civilians who were transferred into the museum.”
“……A note?”
“Yes. Please look at the first sentence.”
He looked.
-----------------------
1. Park Hansol (This is my real name. If anyone sees this and gets out, please remember it.)
I don’t know what the hell is going on right now, but I’m leaving this writing behind for now in order to somehow keep myself calm.
I’m usually active on the Napolitan Gallery, so I was certain that leaving writing like this would help the next person.
Fuck, normally I just laughed at this stuff, but now that it’s become reality, I’m so fucking scared I feel like I’m going to die. Still, damn it, nothing’s going to change if I just sit still, so I’m thinking of at least exploring.
The notebook I’m writing in right now is practically new, but still, from the next person onward, don’t write too much. It might end up being a waste.
I’m going to write a lot since it’s mine anyway.
In any case, I waited here for three hours, but nothing special happened. I can hear someone walking around outside, but they don’t come in. More precisely, they did grab the doorknob, but they couldn’t open it, like it was locked.
I can open it. I could open it from outside too. So I’m thinking this is some kind of safe zone? Something like that.
(Sorry if I’m wrong. But fuck, this is what I think.)
When I went outside to test whether the door opened, there was something like an art museum spread out, and the door to the room I’d been in had the words “Resting Room” engraved on it. If you find this note somewhere else, think of the resting room as a safe zone.
And that’s everything I’ve found out.
I’m going to start properly exploring now. There’s nothing to eat in the resting room, so if I don’t want to starve to death, I think I have to move around for now.
I’m going to take a full look around the first floor first. Then I’ll write again.
-----------------------
2. Choi Jia (This is my real name too.)
I found the notebook, so I’m trying to write as well. First of all, there was nothing written after Park Hansol’s entry above.
I think he probably went out exploring and died.
That must mean there’s definitely something so frightening outside that he couldn’t even come back here.
I’m sorry. I’m just going to starve to death. I hope the next person who comes here escapes.
-----------------------
3. Lee Seonghyeon (Real name)
Choi Jia, you fucking bitch. Do something before you die. And what the hell am I supposed to do when there’s a corpse just lying in the resting room? Tear into it and eat it? Thanks a lot, fuck, I guess thanks to you I won’t starve to death, you fucking bitch.
Fuck!
-----------------------
“…….”
For Ian, these were the first traces he had seen of powerless ordinary people caught up in a Mystery.
He ran his fingers over the edge of his mouth.