Being A Full-Time Employee C21

Chapter 21

The moment it left my mouth, I regretted it. For someone so insistent on “drawing the line,” I’d just spoken the most sentimental nonsense yet. Embarrassed, I pretended not to notice and simply looked at him.

Wonu, back turned, finally replied:
“That will never happen.”

Then he slipped inside. As the door began to close, I whispered:
“Lie. There’s no such thing as something that never happens…”

Just as dungeons suddenly erupted, spilling monsters into the world, and people among us turned into monsters just to fight them—there’s no such thing as ‘impossible’ anymore.

I went to the kitchen, gulped down a cold glass of water in one go, head throbbing. Still restless, I reached for another—until I noticed something small on the counter.

A pill. Only the size of my pinky nail. Easy to miss against the white counter tile. I picked it up, turned it over, then frowned and shoved it into my pocket. Gripping the sweating cup firmly, I retreated to my room.

Early sleep.

We were awakened before dawn—not by the sun, but by alarms. Persistent, shrill, drilling straight into the skull before the body could even stir.

It must have been hell for civilians as well. Dungeon outbreak notification.

The announcement ordered our team to prepare on standby.

“An army without discharge, that’s what this is…”

I dragged myself up, half-eyed, throwing on clothes, strapping my combat belt. Stepping outside, I saw Wonu already dressed, utility belt crossing from shoulder to waist. He tossed me a spare pair of goggles.

“Oh. Thanks…”

Only my second mission, and I still hadn’t gotten used to packing properly. I looped the goggles to my neck, grabbed the waterproof bandana off the hook—pointless, I knew it would be soaked, but procedure demanded it.

The moment the in-ear comm clicked on, deployment came: head to Helicopter Pad 2. If it was helicopter, not vehicle transport, the site had to be beyond the city limits.

“Everyone accounted for?”

Hard to hear over the rotor roar, but I assumed the words and called back. Each face I glanced at—wide awake, alert. None wore sleepiness. Incredible. Because I was still half asleep.

“Briefing in transit! Boarding now—long journey ahead!”

Long journey?

As I stepped onto the helicopter, Wonu’s hand steadied me by the waist.

“Hunter Chae, I’m not a rose in need of carrying, am I?”
“I know.”

His hand stayed regardless. I let it—comfort trumped bickering in the moment.

Seated, belts crossed, a tablet passed down. One per two. So close, heads touching, we read our mission assignment.

Mission, quest—sometimes they called them that. If it were truly like a game, maybe it would sting less. Tragic, but less.

The dungeon site: a nondescript forested hill at the seam of Gyeonggi-do and Seoul. With 70% of the peninsula covered in mountains, they were the most frequent eruption points.

“I’ve been here before,” Wonu suddenly shouted into my ear—but with the helicopter noise, it registered as a whisper.

“It’s rugged. Lots of trees. Hyung… I’m weaker in forests.”
“Why?”
“Because trees drink water.”

Damn it. My stomach soured instantly. I scrolled to confirm mission orders.

“You gotta be kidding me…”

Mission: Hunter Chae Wonu / Guide Yang Baekgyeom (support) – Route Clearance.

Support, huh? It meant breaking trail at the lead. I shot him a look. He only looked calm, like it was nothing new.

Mountain before dawn was darker than night. The helicopter swayed violently as it descended, blades fighting headwind.

Everything else in our world went high-tech, but certain factors stayed old-fashioned. Like ladders. Hanging ladders in turbulence demanded bravery—and thighs of steel.

“One huge hit, and I’m out of this hell!”

I shouted into void—safe, drowned beneath rotor noise.

Landing solid ground, my legs shook. Coming down wasn’t just a climb—it was a fight to control every motion and muscle. Goggles on, bandana tight. In-ear synced, I locked eyes with Wonu.

—“Mission as briefed. Advance team ahead. Gate cycles open 30 seconds every 2 minutes. Identified monsters: small, high-speed, stealth-type rodents. Good luck, all. Survive.”

He flicked on my shoulder lamp. I returned the favor.

“Count on me again,” he murmured.
“…Count on yourself. You survive, I survive.”

The gate opened—190 tall by 100 wide, an ominous glow. Together, deep breath, we stepped inside. He at front, me guarding the rear. My palm pressed to his broad, solid back, pistol drawn.

“Hyung… in advance, sorry.”
“What?”

I barely heard over the trees thrashing. Before answer came, it was drowned out.

A rush, scraping fast to both sides.

I pivoted right, he left—our backs pressed together. My gun flashed, blasts cracking. His power—dense, sticky clay bolts—squelched forth.

Each muzzle flare lit red eyes lunging. Then gone. The adrenaline spiked, ragged breath tearing free.

Not a horde, fortunately. I killed two, he three. Space to breathe again.

I checked my watch. Next gate cycle: 1 min, 14 sec. We had to advance within that time.

He turned already, moving forward. I followed, pressing close to cover his back.

“Hyung. I really am sorry.”
“You said that before! Meaning what?!”
“…Today I’ll push harder than usual.”

He thrust both arms out, turned hands, grasped air. Veins bulged.

Glancing at his vitals on my tiny overworked watch display, I saw it—heart rate and temperature rocketing.

“…!”

And then: the ground itself shifted.

Mud, sodden and wet, sloughed sideways. Not trenching—but displacing boulders, ripping roots. Impossible—to shift fully rooted trees with water pressure. Instead, he simply shoved earth aside.

I was stunned. By his cleverness, by sheer brute will, by brilliance of execution. Speechless.

“Let’s go.”

He panted, nodded sharply. I touched his neck instinctively to monitor. He shook me off.

“I can. Early advantage is key. Inside dungeons, terrain made by powers…”
“…have cooldowns. Damn it.”

He was right. Drawing my knife, slotting it through glove guard for grip, switching magazines fast.

“I’ll cover. Push only until your edge stops. Tell me before failure. I’ll know regardless.”
“I can cover too—”
“And when you collapse? Recovery could take forever. You think I want to die saving your stubborn ass?”

He shook his head violently, like wings beating.

I exhaled, cracking a grin. “Then keep moving. Core’s waiting.”

Bandana up, goggles opaque, I couldn’t see his face. But I knew. He was pale—always pale, even paler now.

I couldn’t shake it. The Bureau… they weren’t just sending us. They were testing him. Measuring. How far he could go. How long he could last. How much they could milk.

And me? Was I here only to maximize data extraction?

“If that’s the truth, then…”

If it’s true, then what?

What the hell could I even do?