Surviving as an Office Worker at the Anomaly Management Bureau - Chapter 48

WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Chen

◈ Surviving as an Office Worker at the Anomaly Management Bureau ◈

Chapter 48: Aestheticism

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It was only natural, but if the Management Bureau had a Containment Team, then of course it also had a Management Team. The Management Team managed the containment objects subdued by the Containment Team and, after consulting with related departments, documented the methods for managing them.

Of course, that process was a secret from everyone except the Management Team and the higher-ups.

I looked at the Turntable in front of me.

A Turntable quietly spinning with a vinyl record on it.

My temples were throbbing, so something seemed to be happening.

I looked at the Turntable.

[Name: Turntable]

[Age: Created 3 years ago]

[Trait: Mental Derangement]

[Talent: X]

[Background: This Turntable carries the strange obstinacy of someone who claims it is art, and plays horrific music.]

[Weakness: Burn it.]

Couldn’t I just burn something like this?

Clicking my tongue, I walked around the Turntable.

It had stopped with the vinyl record still in place.

I opened the manual.

[Manual for Office Workers]

[PRV - Object Name: Turntable - Record by Hwang Dong-ryeol of the Management Team]

[This object continuously plays human screams.]

[Continued exposure causes mental derangement and repeated self-harm.]

[The song lasts for approximately one month. When the music stops, the surrounding area begins to undergo otherworldization, which leads to the <Censored> phenomenon.]

[An employee resistant to mental attacks must wind the Turntable once a month.]

[While the music is playing, its mental effects become stronger, and hallucinations may sometimes appear.]

Now this was more like a manual. Until now, I had always encountered things for the first time, or things with little to no information, so I sometimes wondered if it was even useful.

Anyway, if I had left it alone without thinking, things could have gotten serious.

I strode over and pressed the rewind button.

The vinyl record began spinning backward.

-Aah! Aaaah!

After the record spun backward for a long time, music soon began to play.

It wasn’t music.

It was the screaming of people.

“Urgh...”

The migraine grew so severe that my ears began ringing.

If someone had gathered the sinners of hell, recorded their screams, and played them back, wouldn’t it sound exactly like this?

I covered my ears with both hands, but the sound did not lessen at all. It began to echo inside my head.

It sounded as though it was ringing in my soul rather than my eardrums.

-Aaaah! Aaaaaah!

“Ghk!”

I let out a rough breath and opened my eyes to regain my senses.

“...What?”

I was inside an art gallery.

My head still rang, and I could still hear the ringing in my ears, but the sudden sight of the gallery completely captured my attention.

A marble floor. Brightly shining chandeliers.

And beside them, decorating the space...

“...This is insane.”

Things that had once been people.

A sight too horrifying to put into words spread out before me.

Where paintings should have hung in an ordinary gallery, there were human remains, or humans themselves.

“Just what kind of lunatic...”

Holding my temple, I staggered forward.

“Please save me!”

I heard someone scream.

I turned toward the sound, and space was sucked inward as though the ground were folding.

Someone stood before me.

It was not human.

Its head was human.

A woman’s face, smiling so broadly that the corners of her mouth looked ready to split.

Her red hair was tangled as though it had never been brushed even once. In contrast, her freckled face gave off an inexplicable sense of discomfort.

More than anything else, though,

-Clunk!

Where her body should have been was the torso of a white female mannequin.

She opened her mouth, and contrary to what I expected, fluent words came out.

“So you’re the human who destroyed my Basement.”

“...”

“How did you do it?”

If it meant the Basement...

-Beep!

A ringing so sharp it felt as though my ears would tear apart began.

The headache was so intense that I could not even speak.

It felt like my head would split open.

“Let me see.”

It stared directly at my face.

And I looked above its head.

[Name: Aestheticism]

[Age: -]

[Trait: Art]

[Talent: Art]

[Background: If asked to name the ten most harmful beings to humanity, this is a dangerous object that would confidently rank among them.]

[Weakness: When every art gallery it created burns away, it too will disappear.]

Perhaps it felt my gaze. It looked at me with a bright smile.

“Your struggle to survive somehow is commendable.”

The mannequin’s hand rose in a strange motion and lightly tapped my forehead.

“Try your best. I’ll give you a gift as well.”

“Gasp!”

The art gallery passed by like a panorama.

Countless scenes, artworks, and people’s screams battered my eyes and ears.

Then I was back inside the Containment Chamber.

Something was in my hand.

I lowered my gaze.

In my hand was a very small, old-fashioned statue.

It looked like a crudely carved human figure.

Soon, its information appeared before my eyes.

[Name: One Chance]

[Age: Created moments ago]

[Trait: Life]

[Talent: X]

[Background: A capricious aesthete occasionally gives this to humans they favor. Once only, it grants the power to defy death.]

[Weakness: It is destroyed when its holder dies.]

Drip.

A nosebleed ran down my face.

The music made from people’s screams still battered my ears, but unlike before, I no longer felt a headache.

Wiping away the blood with the back of my hand, I stepped outside. The man in sunglasses approached me with a worried look.

“Are you all right?”

“No.”

My head was still ringing.

The man handed me a handkerchief, met my eyes, and spoke apologetically.

“You saw something.”

“Didn’t you send me in knowing that?”

“I did not.”

“A human woman’s head, and a white mannequin.”

The man’s hand stopped.

“...Can you explain?”

As I wiped away the blood still flowing from my nose, I explained it to him. The gallery, and the details of the object called Aestheticism.

After hearing my whole explanation, the man looked at me with a grave expression.

“You are one of the few people in the history of the Management Bureau to see that thing and survive.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“It is an enormous compliment. It is hard to believe that you survived after only bleeding from your nose once.”

That was a compliment, right?

I raised my head and looked at the man. As though he felt my gaze, he raised one hand.

“The Management Bureau will thoroughly protect your safety.”

“You won’t use me as bait?”

“To be honest, the idea of using you as bait is insane.”

“Why?”

“When fishing, would you use gold as bait?”

Tsk. I clicked my tongue and looked at him.

“I hope you keep your word.”

“I guarantee it with everything the Management Bureau has.”

“Are you in a position to make that guarantee?”

“I am somewhat higher-ranking than you think. Besides, the Management Bureau is not weak enough to be brought down by things like that.”

Then why couldn’t they just go out and catch it?

A sigh escaped me.

“But it seems you gained something as well.”

He looked at my hand, then noticed my expression and hurriedly waved his hand.

“I have no intention of taking it. That is entirely yours. You brought it back, didn’t you?”

“Can I trust this thing?”

What if I died, came back to life, and found myself in that art gallery?

“As far as I know, not a single such case has ever been found.”

As though to dispel my worries, he spoke and clapped his hands.

“Then I should lend you something now.”

“How much more are you planning to work me?”

“It is not like that. It is a purely goodwill gesture.”

The man took two items from inside his coat.

The familiar Butane Gas.

And...

“...A marble?”

It was a small marble, about the size of a finger joint.

“This is not a containment object, but it is one of the Research Team’s finest creations. Throw it on the ground when you are in danger. It will help.”

“It isn’t a bomb, is it?”

“You wouldn’t survive throwing a bomb at the ground, would you?”

I never turned down something given to me.

I put the Butane Gas and marble inside my coat.

Now I had some useful weapons besides Critical.

“Now then, shall we talk about the Hospital?”

“...”

“It will take some time, so let us talk while we head up.”

I followed the man and listened.

“As you know, the Management Bureau has some enemies.”

“You said there was no danger at all.”

“Not to the Management Bureau, I mean. They never directly attack the Management Bureau. They can never win.”

“...”

“But they can interfere with ordinary people. Of the Bureau’s enemies, the Hospital is particularly unusual.”

“Unusual?”

“They create illnesses, and seek to cure them.”

Create illnesses and cure them.

I remembered Yoo Da-on in a hospital gown.

“They test countless people for that purpose.”

“...”

“If someone does not die no matter how much disease they spread to them or how many surgeries they perform, would that not be the best test subject for them?”

[The woman who rejected death becomes entangled in strange incidents from her first day at work. However, after meeting someone different from the many people who used her because she could not die, she wishes to stake her life once more.]

It was the text I had seen when Yoo Da-on first began Regeneration.

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Yes. And to be honest, I believe you know how much they still want her back.”

“...”

“I cannot provide all the support you need. The Management Bureau has many problems of its own.”

Ding.

The elevator arrived.

“But when the time comes, I can provide equipment.”

He winked and pointed to my inner pocket.

“Good luck.”

The elevator doors closed again with him inside.

“...”