NoveLight ™
After that, everything was resolved surprisingly quickly.
Apparently, I earned some kind of extraordinary recognition within the company.
It wasn’t unheard of for an employee to rescue a contaminated colleague independently, but typically such operations took months or even years of preparation and were carried out with life-or-death resolve. Many attempts ended with both the rescuer and the rescued disappearing without a trace.
But pulling someone out immediately after contamination? That was unprecedented for a rookie like me.
"Hey, isn’t that the guy with the deer antler mask…?"
"Oh, that’s him?"
"Wow… how many times is this now?"
Whenever I walked through the company halls, I occasionally heard murmurs like that behind me.
It wasn’t the first time I’d experienced this. Even back in the cafeteria, when Team D would eat together, I’d caught similar whispers.
But since I was walking alone this time, they were more audible. Not that it lasted long.
"Kim Soleum."
"Yes?"
"Starting tomorrow, take ten days off."
"…??"
"It’s paid leave."
With half the team gone, Team D was temporarily shut down, so it wasn’t surprising that I’d be granted some leave.
‘I’d still been coming to the office daily to write the situation report, though.’
I was particularly curious about how we managed to bend the rules of the Hungry Hangman B-grade Darkness and get Assistant Manager Eun Ha-je out alive without him having to die for the clear.
‘Someone must’ve reported that Park Minseong and I did something unusual.’
There was even talk of scheduling interviews with the research team to bolster the credibility of the exploration logs.
It seemed like Manager Lee Byungjin, who oversaw manual reviews, and our Team D leader, Captain Lee Jaheon, had cut things off before they escalated.
Apparently, my colleagues who were there testified, saying, “Kim Soleum likely acted with no ulterior motive and simply to save a teammate.”
They framed it as though it was pure quick thinking and good luck on my part.
‘Considering everyone bolted the moment the clear door opened, the fact that they still vouched for me is surprising.’
It was expected, but still something I appreciated.
Thanks to all this, my name was once again circulating in company memos, and the Hungry Hangman manual had been slapped with a "revision potential" tag.
Meanwhile, in my rookie group’s chatroom, people were trying every which way to pry information out of me.
[Go Yeongeun: You did great. Take care.]
"……."
Some people sent comforting messages.
‘Thanks, really.’
For the record, Baek Saheon didn’t even bother checking in from home.
‘That guy’s personality… no surprise.’
I hadn’t expected anything anyway.
All in all, things weren’t bad for my survival prospects.
‘Actually, they might even be good.’
I was steadily building an impressive career.
Specifically, I was becoming a standout employee associated with keywords like "fast clears through unconventional methods" and "benevolence."
And now, I even had a ten-day vacation.
I wasn’t sure whether to feel happy about being far from ghost stories for ten days or disappointed about slowing down my point accumulation.
Turns out, I didn’t feel strongly about either.
So, I just did nothing.
For a few days, I simply sat in my living room, watching TV.
About three days in, I received a text.
[Eun Ha-je: Come to the hospital.]
"…!"
***
“Roe, you’re here.”
“…Assistant Manager.”
I placed the gift I brought under the side table and stood by the bed.
Eun Ha-je chuckled.
“Soy milk? Nice choice.”
“…Thank you.”
It was the first time I’d seen him since the brief communication we had when he regained consciousness in the infirmary.
His complexion was still a bit pale, but he looked well enough.
The Snow White Mountain Apple seemed to have worked to some extent.
“For someone who almost died, I’m doing okay, huh? That item was great. Thanks.”
Though it was that very item that made him look like a corpse, the peculiar situation of having a missing hand rather than a severed head allowed him to be preserved in quarantine.
‘They said Captain Lee Jaheon confirmed he was alive at sunrise the next day and had him transferred to the infirmary.’
Now, he’d been moved to this hospital, which had a partnership with the company, and had just completed urgent treatment.
“Oh, and I told them I happened to have that apple. Most people don’t want to reveal its origins, you know.”
“…Thank you.”
“Thank me? I should be thanking you and Minseong.”
Eun Ha-je raised his left arm slightly, as if to wave it off, but then froze.
It wasn’t there.
"……."
The bandaged stump where his left wrist had been was blunt and final.
A loss like that wasn’t something that could be regenerated with the company-issued potion supplies.
“…Assistant Manager.”
I voiced the thought I had been deliberating.
“I have a C-grade regeneration potion…”
“You’re not seriously suggesting you give it to me?”
“I was thinking of selling it to you.”
“Hah.”
Eun Ha-je clicked his tongue.
“Listen closely, Roe. Items that are traded only with points—those can’t be bought with just any amount of money out here.”
"……."
“And using that potion just because of a missing hand? That’s wasteful. It’s meant to regenerate even if half your limbs are blown off.”
“Even so—”
“Enough. I’ll handle my hand myself. You keep it for emergencies.”
Eun Ha-je’s gaze turned somber.
“If you keep entering the Darkness, there’ll be worse losses than a single hand, I promise.”
A chill ran down my spine.
“Actually, there’s something I wanted to give you.”
Eun Ha-je moved his one remaining hand with the dexterity of someone who had been using it alone for years and reached into the bedside drawer.
He pulled out a gold-embossed box with an elegant oil painting design.
“…?!”
[Daydream Potion]
‘Wait, hold on.’
That was a box for Daydream Inc.’s specialty potions! And it looked even fancier than the C-grade regeneration potion I’d received.
“Assistant Manager, what are you—”
“Here, take a look. There’s one left.”
Eun Ha-je opened the box with a flourish.
Inside, the interior was lined with silk, molded to hold two glass bottles. But one spot was already empty.
He casually tossed the remaining bottle to me.
“Catch.”
"……!"
Panicked, I reached out and caught it before it hit the ground.
Inside the glass bottle, a liquid swirled in hues of deep purple and silver, moving gracefully like a flowing ribbon.
[Daydream Potion: Desert Viper Venom (Outstanding)]
Venom?!
“The Assistant Manager bought poison with points…?”
“That’s right,” Eun Ha-je said with a toothy grin.
“Handle it carefully. That’s a 170,000-point death note.”
"…!!"
“You can remotely kill someone without them ever knowing.”
Wait a second.
With trembling hands, I read the description on the bottle.
Desert Viper Venom aids in quiet, ruthless vengeance.
Blow the target’s name into the bottle during a simple ritual, and…
That night, a gruesome death will find the target.
“In short, if there’s someone you want gone, this will take care of them without a trace.”
"……."
“Before they die, they’ll endure excruciating burning pain, a mental breakdown cursing the world, and hours of psychological torment that feel like years. They’ll die in a coma after four agonizing hours.”
You’re giving me a murder weapon like this…?
Eun Ha-je muttered about how Daydream only sold these poisons in pairs because of their “thematic branding” and how that doubled his workload.
But then, he smiled slyly at me.
“If there’s someone you want dead, use it.”
"…!"
“I had someone.”
I glanced at the empty slot in the box and swallowed hard.
…So he’s already used it?
“Curious who it was?” he asked.
I couldn’t help but recall Hungry Hangman and its revelation.
“If it’s a personal matter you don’t want to share, you don’t have to tell me—”
“Personal? Nah, I’ve been dying to talk about it.”
Oh. Okay, then.
Eun Ha-je leaned back against the bed, crossing his arms.
“To sum it up… Yeah, I got into trouble as a journalist and ended up switching careers.”
"……."
“I was digging into a politician’s kid—someone mixed up in drugs, human trafficking, and all sorts of crazy crap. I wanted to expose him, and it ruined me.”
His tone was casual, but the content was anything but.
It was the kind of story that had been refined over years of reflection—calm and straightforward but heavy with pain.
“My team couldn’t even publish the article because of all the pressure. The next day, we were bombarded with threats—stalking, calls to my family, you name it.”
He sighed.
“Ultimately, the team decided to let it go. Pretend it never happened. But I couldn’t. I tried taking it to an overseas press. Yeah, betrayal, sure.”
A small pause.
“Then, on the day of my flight, I got the call. My four informants were dead.”
"……."
“They claimed it was suicide—people in despair taking their own lives. But I knew better.”
"……."
“I thought publishing the story would solve everything. I was naive.”
“It wasn’t naive—”
“It was,” he interrupted firmly. “Anyway…”
That was when he quit journalism.
He couldn’t take it anymore.
“But I still needed a job. I had people relying on me.”
Luckily, he found a suitable company.
A place where newcomers came from all walks of life, where his blacklist status didn’t matter. A pharmaceutical company in a completely different industry.
“Daydream Inc.”
And there, he found the wish-granting system.
“At first, I thought about using my wish to bring the dead back. But… That felt like an insult to them.”
Eun Ha-je adjusted his crossed arms.
“Reviving them to ease my guilt? That’s just selfish. The dead deserve respect as they are. Not everyone at this company agrees, but that’s how I see it.”
He finished with a faint smile.
“So, I avenged them last night. And that’s that.”
"……."
“If you see news about a politician’s kid dying horribly, you’ll know it was me.”
Then, he stretched with a groan.
“Ah, damn. Finally done with this cursed Darkness exploration.”
“You’re resigning?”
“Who knows?”
Despite the bold words, his face was tight.
He was probably still worried about Supervisor Park Minseong.
“I’m taking a break, though. No way I can go back to Team D as it was.”
"……."
He chuckled bitterly.
“You know, Roe, you fought so hard to stay on our team. Looks like it worked out.”
"…Yes.”
It hit me then.
I wouldn’t see him in the office anymore.
Not beside me, not across the desk.
"……."
“Roe.”
"……."
“Is it hard?”
“…!”
“Of course it is. If it wasn’t, you’d be a psycho. You’re just dealing with it late because you’re too damn competent. Everyone goes through this eventually.”
He thumped his chest lightly.
“Losing a colleague you won’t see the next day.”
"……."
“But hey, give yourself some credit. This is the best-case scenario. You’re not seeing them because you did well.”
"……Supervisor Park Minseong—”
“I’ll take responsibility for him,” Eun Ha-je cut me off firmly.
“You saved him too. Be proud of yourself. He’s tough—he’ll recover. Just focus on yourself.”
Then he glanced at me and smiled.
“You know, the captain’s been worried about you.”
"……?"
“The lizard guy? Captain Lee Jaheon?”
That… made sense.
“If half your team’s gone, most captains would get assigned to support other teams.”
Oh.
“But he kept you out of it.”
"…!"
“Used his connections, took on extra work—whatever it took.”
Wow.
“See? That guy’s been reliable since I joined. Stiff, but solid.”
Eun Ha-je placed his one good hand on my shoulder.
“Good people are rare in this company. That’s your luck. Stick with him.”
He grinned and extended his hand.
“Whoever takes my spot, you and Captain Lee will make it work.”
His right hand was firm, steady.
“Stay safe and rack up points, Roe.”
He squeezed my hand.
“May your wish come true.”
"……Yes.”
That was the last time I saw Assistant Manager Eun Ha-je.
***
When my vacation ended and I returned to work, the first thing I noticed in Team D’s office was that Assistant Manager Eun Ha-je’s desk had been cleared out.
Supervisor Park Minseong’s desk was still untouched, but who knew how long that would last. It was only a matter of time.
"……."
I quietly walked to my desk and sat down.
And just like that, I was the only member left in Team D.
Much better than death or forever trapped on ghost story but damn 😞