Being A Full-Time Employee C49

Chapter 49

“You’re saying I came here alone?”

I tapped my earpiece again. Only static hissed in response.

“Yes. You’re… here to rescue us, right…?”

Hope burned in their eyes, but beneath it, fear swam. Too scared, too desperate, so even someone who looked like they’d been dragged along as a hostage was suddenly recast as savior, as a hero.

I forced myself to smile. My face had never betrayed me before. I curved my lips into the same “trustworthy smile” I remembered from Bureau publicity sessions. Even if the corners trembled.

“Yes. The raid is already underway.”

That was all I shared—the old truth. Not the present: “The advance team vanished, we’re in the shit.” Civilians didn’t need that truth.

I tested the emergency lever and tried comms with the control cab—dead. No use.

I wasn’t a combat hunter, nor a healer. Without Wonu, I was just a guide with slightly better stamina than a civilian. Locked in a railcar, I couldn’t offer more than bandaids.

Yet confidence swelled in me, inexplicable and stubborn. Wonu would come. No matter where I ended up, he would find me—some impossible maneuver, raw instinct, sheer power.

In years of dungeon breaks, I’d never once trusted like this. Normally, apart from a partner, the thought had always been the same: They’ll abandon me. Hunters torn apart by separation anxiety; guides tossed away like tools, names erased, replaced easily enough.

“First—let’s check for injured. Anyone hurt?”

Hands lifted. Sprained wrists from clinging to handrails, bruises from tossing into seats. I grouped them, patched them up with meager first-aid.

“When… will we get out…?”

The student who had asked earlier about gas masks spoke. Blood streaked her knees, scraped beneath her uniform skirt. She held her phone tight, eyes shimmering. She didn’t cry—she endured. I disinfected the skin, set a bandage, smiled with reassurance.

I couldn’t give timeframes. Knowing the clock meant despair if miracles missed the mark.

“You’re in middle school?”

Yes, I deflected. Let them call me coward if they wished; I did my best this way. I knew very little—no books, no social finesse—only how to cling to cracks.

“I start high school next year…”

Her sniffle twisted the knife. I remembered my old family photo. Me, beaming in that uniform, proud to begin. That face never felt like it belonged to me.

“You’ll make it to your high school entrance.”

It was all I could promise. Not when rescue comes. But—you will make it. I didn’t. But you will.

Then—a quake. Enormous. Level 6 if it had been measured. People screamed, clutched rails, seats, each other.

I shielded the student I had been treating, bracing her against what might crush. Against my chest, she whimpered. Softly, I realized—she was counting.

“Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four…”

What? My spine arched. Footsteps? Something else?

When she reached sixty-three, the shaking stopped.

“What were you counting?” I asked sharply, low like a fugitive’s whisper. She answered, voice trembling, terrifyingly older than her years.

“The cars… are being eaten. One per minute…”

“…Eaten?”

“I saw! Eight cars. Now only four left. We… we’re the second from the back now.”

That explained the dead link to the cab. The front was gone.

I laughed under my breath, biting my lip to silence it. Not joy. Not comedy. Just… the impossible absurdity. This could be the first dungeon exceeding classification.

I would demand a bigger reward from Kang if I survived. A Green Zone house at least. If I lived.

“What do we do now?!” Someone sobbed. One tear became many. Even the student began to weep soundlessly. And yet—they all suppressed their voices, as if instinct demanded silence.

“It’s okay to cry out loud,” I told them softly. Noise didn’t cause this. If it had, we’d already have been dead.

But someone shouted: “Why aren’t you doing anything? You came to save us!”
“Yes! You’re Bureau, aren’t you?! If you’re a hunter, fight!”

I grimaced bitterly. I understood. Truly—I had asked myself the same. You’re Bureau. Why sit here like trash?

Quietly, I muttered: “I have a partner…”

Not confident words. I couldn’t prove it, couldn’t promise. For me, Wonu was certainty. For them, he was just some stranger.

“He’ll find me. He’ll find us,” I said louder.

“How?!”

I spread my palms. “Because we’re monsters. Monsters always sense their own.”

Eyes met uneasily. They all knew the whispers—that hunters and guides weren’t human. That we were the same as what we hunted. I hadn’t meant to stab, but if guilty, so be it.

I checked my watch. GPS dots flickered, jittered—but two had fallen still. Someone had died. I prayed it wasn’t Wonu.

Then an idea knifed into me. A crazy plan. But for sixty seconds—I could try. I was a sprinter, after all.

“Did anyone see how it happens?”

A middle-aged man raised his hand. Gravitas in his face.

“Yes. A huge leech. Swallowing whole cars. Fast as lightning. Inside its mouth—row upon row of teeth, grinding like a blender…”

More intel than expected. Useful. I checked the weapons at my belt. This time, I’d prepped better, knowing the odds. Shock batons—the most helpful tool of all.

“Stay here. Huddle together.”

They obeyed. Haven’t they noticed they’re already gathered because each minute, the rear cars vanish?

The student rose. “Where are you going?”

“Just to check. I’ll be back.”

She stepped forward, hands clasped tight like prayer. I remembered family mass. Church had been my parents’, not mine. But her grip—begging, clinging—all the same.

I whispered back, “Amen.”

I opened the door. Space still remained. Slowly, I walked forward. Deliberately even. Breath slowed to let my heart stay steady. Later, I’d need its sudden spike.

At the final car, nothing but black. No windows, no rails, no platform. Gone.

I crouched. Muscles ready. Like a fighter ringside. Fear shot down my neck, prickling hair.

I raised the baton—extendable, one full meter in length. The train car was higher, but not much more.

I leaned back against the final seat. Where people casually left their arms. Sighted the invisible.

“Then hurry up,” I muttered. “Come.”