Being A Full-Time Employee C48

Chapter 48

Even for me, with pride enough to say I had grown seasoned, this was only the third time I felt such a suffocating atmosphere. The first had been an open-type dungeon, Code Red—when I lost my partner.

“…”

My thoughts drifted there, and my eyes turned naturally to the seat beside me. Wonu sat tightening protective gloves over damp bandanas, goggles around his neck. He looked calm. That was better. My last partner had tried so hard to reassure me, pretending to be fearless though he was shaking inside.

Sensing my stare, Wonu met my eyes.
“Hyung. Are you scared?”

The transport truck rattled awfully, military-grade discomfort. But even then, I heard him clearly.
“You want an honest answer?”
“No. If you said yes, I’d worry.”
“Then I’ll lie. No, I’m not scared.”
“Good. Then don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

He slipped on his black helmet, then looked back once more, tapping my neck with a gloved finger.
“And besides, I owe you one save.”

He knew the value of that necklace—the life fragment he’d passed into my hands. I almost told him I’d give it back, but held back.

Now I understood better: between us, one sacrificing for the other wasn’t the happy ending. If we compared survival odds, Wonu always beat me. But I wanted to be greedy for life, just this once—so I chose to live, for what came next.

The roads in the control zone were open; we dismounted under a sycamore. Faces tilted up toward auroras spilling from machines wrestling with magnetism and expansion. Beautiful, if this had been Finland, not Seoul.

And once again, just as during Code Red, auroras bloomed bright, inappropriate against the chaos. Then—only some of us had survived to recall it.

“Wonu.”

I tore my eyes from rainbow lights over City Hall, grabbed his hand. He jolted, trembling. Our gloves left fingertips exposed, warmth leaking skin to skin. His hand was hot. But compared to what would come—it was normal.

“Don’t die.”

Heat, shock, trauma—I could block those, guide him through. Just not death.

Did he even know? Hunters without guides died far more often. Did he know what they did to Hunters whose guides died during release? Let him not know. Let us just both return alive.

I wanted to say more, but time ended.

A shrill ringing burst—out from City Hall’s gates winged monsters leapt, shredded to pieces against the barrier.

“Teams, advance through your assigned entry. This dungeon must be cleared. At all costs.”

So easy for someone else to gamble our lives. I grimaced, shouldered closer to Wonu. Pulled up my bandana, goggles biting my face. Wonu cracked his neck—clack. My watch screamed from my pulse.

Ingress.

City Hall Station.

Underground, sprawling. Lines 1 and 2 both connected. We were on the 2-line side.

Even before we cleared the stairwell, faint smoke crawled. We’d known—from scan reports. Gas masks hid our faces. Tests said: nontoxic. But “not yet detected” always meant danger.

And inside a dungeon outbreak at Seoul’s central hub? No telling how many were trapped—vehicles, passengers, citizens.

“…Why are the halls completely empty?”

The whisper crackled grainy over my earpiece. Close, yet a floor away—interference fuzzed.

Scarier was the content: “Empty.” In a station like this, impossible.

“Maybe rescue teams came first…?”

No answer. Because everyone knew the truth. Rescue hunters never, ever, entered first. Their role was bodies—safety, extraction, not combat. Never vanguard.

So why were the tunnels empty?

Then—static detonated: PIIIIIIII shrieking machinery. Needle noise. We all clutched our ears.

Through thickening smoke, one man straightened. Pointed, counting heads.

“One missing. Check your partners.”

What—?

Panic whipped my head. Smoke deepened into fog. Visibility shrank, like drowning in fire.

“Wonu—”

I muttered dumbly. Then weight seized from behind. Reflex grabbed for a weapon—but his hand stopped mine. Voice, low, whispering:
“It’s me.”

Baritone lower still in whispers, unmistakable.
“Hyung, it’s me.”

Only then did my lungs loosen, as alarms rang from my health monitor. I struck my wristwatch quiet, gasped it away.

Was this a psychic dungeon? No—it felt worse. Uncertain. Incapable of measure. Deep underground, third level down. We weren’t in a typical mind illusion.

“Hunter Chae. Stay right beside me.”

I locked his hand tight. Fog smothered us.

A sudden scream cracked out from comms—one desperate shout: “Careful!”

Then silence.

“Alpha team?”

I whispered our codename. “Alpha? Respond.”

No answer. Only thicker dark.

I crushed Wonu’s hand. Swallowed the tremor in my lips. Muttered, raw:

“Don’t disappear.”

More earnest than anything else I’d ever spoken.

“Hey, hey? Are you okay?!”

Nausea—choking.

“Please, wake up!”
“I’m fine… I’m—…”

I clamped my mouth shut. I wasn’t fine. Someone muttered nearby: “He’s gonna puke—”

Had I been drunk? Consciousness returned jagged, chopped. My head reeled like my brain was picked out and shaken in a jar.

I jerked upright once memory crashed back. My hands clawed my skull—only to realize. No gas mask.

“This—where…?”
“I took it off. You weren’t breathing.”

Hesitant voice.

Around me—people. Not hunters. Not guides. Commuters.

And the ceiling—familiar. Deadly familiar. Not dungeon stone at all, but the bright steel and lights of a 2-line metro car.

A new carriage, polished from the latest line.

I had no memory of entering. How had I—?

“Should I… put the mask back on?”

A frail voice. Wavering. A young student, clutching a phone, uniform neat.

“No. It’s just… for show.”

I lied smooth. No reason to panic civilians more. I was scared out of my mind—so what would they be feeling?

“I… did I enter here myself?”

“No,” an elderly woman answered, low. “Train stopped suddenly. Phones went dead. Light went out. Then we heard it—the announcement. ‘Next stop, City Hall.’ Doors opened. And you—“ She shivered. “—you stumbled inside. Like someone pushed you. None of us could leave since.”

…

The words were absurd. A horror movie script.

I bit my tongue. Forced steadiness.

I rose, checked my watch. My squad’s indicators did flicker alive—but only blinking lights. No reception. No map.

We were alone.

Footnotes

1. Open vs uncertain dungeons – Key difference is “Uncertain” (미지수), unable to classify by usual metrics. Seen here as potentially blending illusion, altered perception, real environment. 

Aurora effect – Magnetic containment fields refracting into auroras; deadly beauty, as referenced from previous Code Red.