After that, everything was processed fairly quickly.
It seemed I had gained some remarkable recognition at the company again.
Apparently, rescuing a contaminated colleague by yourself wasn’t entirely unheard of, but most cases involved months or even years of preparation and a desperate determination to pull it off.
There were countless cases where the people supposedly on a rescue mission would disappeared together with those contaminated people while attempting it.
But to pull someone out immediately after contamination? It was apparently unprecedented for a new hire.
“Look, that guy with the deer antler mask…”
“Oh, is that him?”
“Wow… How many times is this now?”
Sometimes, as I walked through the company corridors, I overheard whispers behind me.
Come to think of it, I remembered experiencing something similar while eating with D-squad at the cafeteria a few times before.
But maybe because I was walking alone now, the comments felt especially clear.
Though it didn’t last long.
“Kim Soleum-ssi.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t come to work for the next ten days.”
“It’s paid leave.”
With half the team gone, D-squad operations had already been temporarily suspended, and now I was being granted leave.
‘I was still coming in regularly to write the situation report, though.’
I’d been curious about how we’d managed to twist the rules of a B-class Darkness, where the Hangman had to die to clear it, and bring Assistant Manager Eun Haje out alive. Ꞧ
‘Someone must’ve reported that Supervisor Park Minseong and I tried to do something.’
It even seemed there had been discussions about scheduling interviews with the Research Team to strengthen the reliability of the exploration records.
– Ah, Supervisor Kim. Why bother with that! Take a break, take a break. You’ve done something huge!
– …Um. Thank you.
It appeared Section Chief Lee Byeongjin, who’s in charge of manual revisions, and Section Chief Lee Jaheon from our squad had cut off the talks at their level.
It was a bit funny, but during the reports from the employees who had been with us, they had apparently testified, ‘Kim Soleum-ssi must have acted to save his squadmates without any ulterior motive.’
They essentially made excuses on my behalf, claiming it was all a fortunate combination of quick thinking and good luck.
‘They all bolted the moment the clear door opened, yet they still spoke up for me.’
The former was only natural, but the latter was something I was grateful for, so I decided to accept it.
Thanks to all this, my name kept circulating on internal calls, and the manual now had a ‘Possibly Subject to Revision’ label attached to it.
In the group chat with my fellow new hires, people kept trying to dig for information from me.
[Go Yeongeun : You’ve been through a lot. Great job.]
Some even sent texts to comfort me.
‘Thanks. Truly.’
For the record, Baek Saheon hadn’t even asked how I was doing, even when I live with the guy.
‘That punk’s personality has always been like that, anyway.’
I didn’t expect anything different.
Overall, the situation so far hadn’t been bad for my survival.
‘Actually, isn’t this good?’
I was steadily building an impressive career.
Specifically, I was establishing a reputation as a standout employee known for ‘quick clears using unconventional methods outside the existing manual’ and for ‘benevolence’.
And now, a ten-day paid leave.
I thought I’d either be pleased about distancing myself from ghost stories for ten days or feel disappointed about slowing down the pace of accumulating points.
I expected it to be one or the other, but I felt neither particularly.
So, I ended up doing nothing at all.
-Mr. Roe Deer, would you like to hear my thoughts on why that abysmal comedy show failed to captivate the public? It’ll be fascinating!
“Why not.”
I spent a few days just sitting in the living room, watching TV.
Then, about three days in…
…a text arrived.
[Eun Haje : Come to the hospital.]
* * *
“Roe, you’re here.”
“…Assistant Manager.”
I placed the get-well gift I’d brought on the side table and stood next to the bed.
Assistant Manager Eun Haje let out a faint chuckle.
“Soy milk? Nice choice.”
“…Thank you.”
It was the first time we were meeting since the brief communication we had in the infirmary, right after she regained consciousness.
The assistant manager’s complexion was slightly pale, but her face otherwise looked fine.
The Snow White Mountain Apple had apparently done its job to some extent. ƒrēewebnovel.com
“Not bad for someone who came back from the brink of death, right? …That item was great. Thanks.”
Thanks to that item, Assistant Manager Eun Haje had appeared to be a corpse. Luckily, the unique condition of her missing hand rather than her neck led to her being preserved in isolation.
‘Section Chief Lee Jaheon reported her survival and had her moved to the infirmary at sunrise the next day…’
Now, she had been transferred to a hospital with some sort of partnership with the company, and the urgent treatments had just been completed.
“Oh, by the way, I just said the apple was something I had on me. People usually prefer to keep their sources a secret.”
“…Thank you.”
“Gratitude? If anything, I should be the one thanking you and Minseong.”
Assistant Manager Eun Haje started to raise her left hand as if to wave it and dismiss the notion, but then froze.
Because it wasn’t there.
Her bandaged left arm ended abruptly at the wrist.
With such a loss, company-issued supply potions wouldn’t be able to regenerate it.
“Um, Assistant Manager.”
I voiced what I’d been considering.
“I have that C-grade regeneration potion with me…”
“You’re not about to offer it to me, are you?”
“I was planning to sell it… for money.”
“Hah.”
Eun Haje clicked her tongue.
“Listen up, Roe. Items that are only tradeable for points? You can’t just buy those outside, no matter how much money you have.”
“And using that potion just because I lost a hand? That’s wasteful. It’s the kind of thing you save for when half your body’s gone.”
“But still—”
“It’s fine. I’ll handle my hand. You keep it for emergencies.”
Her gaze grew faintly shadowed.
“If you keep going into the Darkness, you’ll face situations far worse than losing a hand. Trust me.”
A chill ran down my spine.