There Are No Humans in the Monster Company — Chapter 12: So I Won’t Forget That I’m Human

Chapter 12: So I Won’t Forget That I’m Human

Bright‍‌ red fragments falling‍ from Assistant Manager‍‌ Son’s head splattered‍‍ onto the tips of my shoes.‌‍‌

As‌‍ I stared at⁠‌⁠ the remains of⁠‍⁠ my “fellow humans”‌ scattered across the floor, I even⁠‍ forgot the nausea—the only means I had left to‌⁠ prove that I was still human.‌⁠⁠

Click. Click.

At‍ that moment, the‌ sound of shoes⁠ echoed out.

And‍‍ all the noise⁠ in the lobby was abruptly cut⁠ off.

Manager‍ Geum’s furious roaring,⁠ Supervisor Shik’s rough⁠ breathing as he dragged his chains, even the dust‌ falling from the⁠ ceiling seemed to‍‍‌ have frozen in⁠ midair.

A strange silence descended‌‍ over everything.

From⁠ the far end⁠ of the corridor,⁠‍ a completely white‍‍‌ light began to‌ advance.

Tap.‍ Tap.

The⁠‌‍ sound of footsteps‍‍‌ echoed at perfectly⁠ regular intervals.

It⁠‌ was not Assistant⁠ Manager Son’s energetic‌⁠ stride nor Supervisor‌ Shik’s heavy vibrations.⁠⁠‌

It⁠ was a perfect,⁠⁠ mechanical rhythm, as⁠ though it had⁠ been drawn with⁠‍ a ruler.

The⁠⁠ figures finally appeared.‌

There⁠ were five of‌ them.

Monsters‍‍ dressed from head‍⁠⁠ to toe in‍‍ immaculate white suits without a single‌⁠ speck of dirt.‍⁠

Where‍ their faces should⁠ have been were‌ grotesquely deformed gas⁠ masks.

The‌‌‌ mechanical sound of⁠⁠ their breathing—shhhh, shhhh—produced‌‍⁠ by purification filters⁠ tore through the‌ silence.

“Oh,⁠‍⁠ just as we⁠ were talking about them, they arrived.”⁠

Assistant‌ Manager Son murmured‌ beside me.

The fist that formed⁠ his head, which only moments ago‍ had crushed a human skull while‍ radiating a terrifying‍‍‍ presence, tightened with‌⁠ barely perceptible tension.‌

When⁠ the monster at‍ the front of‌‌ the Order Control Department slightly raised‍ a gloved hand, the dozens of⁠‍ monster employees gathered‌‌ in the lobby⁠‍ moved aside as‌‍‍ though the Red⁠‌ Sea had been‌‌ parted.

“Situation‌⁠ under control.”

The‍ voice that emerged‍ from behind the‍ gas mask was‌ as sharp as⁠⁠ metal scraping against metal, yet chillingly‌‌ calm.

“The⁠‍⁠ Order Control Department‌‍ will handle the‍ containment release incident.‌‌‌ All remaining personnel⁠‌⁠ must evacuate this area immediately.”

The‍ gas mask-wearing figures⁠ pulled out white‍‌‌ containment batons and‌‌‌ strange spraying devices⁠ from within their clothing.

As‌⁠⁠ they advanced toward⁠‍‌ the human corpses‌‌‍ and dimensional entity‌⁠ remains scattered across⁠‍ the floor, it⁠ looked as though‍‌ they were simply‍ picking up trash‍ that had been‌ dropped in a clean hallway.

I watched the scene‍‌ without reacting.

It‍ felt as though‌ the blood in‌‍‌ my veins had‌ turned to lead.‌‍

And‍ just as the‍‌ blood at my‌ feet was about‍ to be stepped‍‌ on by those⁠⁠ white shoes.

Just⁠‌ as the red‍ lenses of one⁠ of those masks⁠ slowly began to‍ turn toward me.‌‍‌

“Come‌⁠‌ along, little one.”‍

A cool, smooth sensation‌⁠ caught my wrist.‌

Manager⁠ Batori.

She‌‍ was still smiling⁠ with her usual elegance, but the⁠ hand gripping me⁠ carried an impossible-to-resist‌ strength.

Her‌‌ red eyes swept‍‍ across my pale‌ face as she‌‌ whispered softly.

“It‌‍ is not a good idea to‌‍ earn the displeasure‍ of those very⁠ white beings.”

She‌ led me away⁠ without looking back‍‍ even once, heading‌‌ toward the office.‌‌

Supervisor⁠ Shik followed behind‍⁠ her, rattling his⁠⁠ chains as though he were her‌‌⁠ escort.

Manager⁠ Myeon and Assistant⁠⁠‌ Manager Son also‌‌‌ left the lobby‍ with quicker steps‌⁠⁠ than usual.

Behind me, I heard⁠ an unsettling hissing⁠‌ sound.

A white mist began to rise.

Human‍‍ life, the smell⁠ of blood, and‌ all the commotion‌ were disappearing without a trace inside⁠‌ that mist.

Only‌‍ after leaving the⁠ extraction room, crossing the corridor, and⁠‌ closing the office⁠ door behind us‌ was I able to breathe again‍‍ with difficulty.

“Hah…⁠‌ haa…”

As‌ my chest rose‌‌ and fell violently,‍‍‌ Manager Batori leaned⁠ the upper half‍ of her body⁠⁠ toward me.

“Don’t‍‌‌ be so afraid.‌‍ No matter what‍ happens, you are‌ a valuable member‌‍ of my lineage.”‌‍

Her‍ whisper was so‌ close it seemed⁠ to brush against‌ my ear.

As‌‌‌ I listened to‌‍‍ her beautiful voice⁠‌ and felt the⁠⁠ steady vibration of‌‍ the fountain pen‍‍ beating against her chest, I slowly‌ regained my breath.⁠

***‌‍

Several⁠‍‌ more days passed.‍‍

There⁠ are things one‌ inevitably gets used⁠‍ to with the⁠ passage of time.‍⁠

And‍ there are things that become numb⁠⁠ the more you⁠⁠‍ get used to‍‌ them.

And‌ when that numbness grows too much,‍‌ abnormal holes begin‍ to appear inside‍‌‍ your mind.

Before⁠ opening the door,‍ I lightly bit‌⁠ my lip.

It‍ had now become‍ part of my routine.

When‌‍ I open the‌ office door.

When‍ I stand in⁠ front of a containment room.

Or⁠ when I encounter‌ an unfamiliar vibration⁠‌ in some remote‌‍‌ corridor.

If‍ I’m being honest,‍‍ it seems like⁠‌‍ I do it‍ every time something stops going the⁠‌ way I want.‍⁠

I’ve‍ gotten quite used to the job⁠‌ by now.

Memorizing‌‍ rules and following‍‌ procedures was always⁠ something I was‍⁠‍ confident in.

Looking‌ at the manual‍ displayed on the⁠⁠ tablet.

Performing‌ the extraction process step by step.‍

And‌⁠ immediately activating the‍⁠‍ restraint devices if⁠‌ a dimensional entity‌‌‌ shows an abnormal‌⁠ reaction.

Now‌⁠‍ I can do⁠‌ all of that‍ without any problems.‌

In‌ fact, I even⁠⁠ get praised for‍⁠⁠ doing it well.⁠‌

The‌‌ dimensional entities I see for the⁠‌‌ first time are⁠ still grotesque.

But‌ now, even if a dimensional entity’s‍ arms split into⁠‌ tentacles or its⁠‍ back tears apart‍‍ while it emits‌ screams capable of⁠ bursting eardrums, after⁠ biting my upper‌‍ lip once, I somehow manage to‍ follow the rules.

I can’t deny that‌ I’ve gotten far more accustomed to⁠ it than at the beginning.

The‌ problem lies elsewhere.⁠‍

Regardless‍ of the work,‌‌‍ my mind was‍‌ filling with more⁠ and more holes.‌

A company where resigning⁠‌‌ means dying.

An⁠ environment where I have to survive‍⁠⁠ every day by‌‌‍ following rules and⁠‍ reading the atmosphere‍‌‌ among dimensional entities‍ and monsters.

And‌‍ there was something‍ else.

‘Is‍ it okay that I look human?’

I had now literally‍⁠‌ become a human⁠ who could not‍ behave like a human.

The⁠ moment Assistant Manager⁠ Son crushed a person’s head.

I watched that scene.‌‌⁠

It‌‌ shocked me deeply, but in the end, I walked‌‍ away without screaming.⁠

Perhaps⁠ it was from‍‌‍ then on that‍‌ a question began⁠‌ to arise inside‌⁠ me.

‘Am‍ I really still‍ human? And if‌ I am human, why are they‍⁠‌ keeping me alive?’‍

Supervisor‍⁠‍ Shik still diligently⁠ looked after me‍⁠ as my direct‌‍ supervisor.

When‌ we went out‌⁠ together to perform‍ extractions, he would‌ pat me on‍ the back with⁠‍⁠ his heavy forelegs.‌‍

And‍ whenever a dimensional‌ entity acted threateningly,‌‌ he would send‍‌‍ it flying with‌ his tail.

I’m‌‍ grateful for that.‍

Truly⁠ grateful.

Of⁠‍‌ course, I’m still‍ incapable of having⁠‍ a proper conversation‍ with Supervisor Shik.

Even‍‍ though he growls⁠⁠ to say something,‌‍ I always end‍⁠‍ up responding based‍ entirely on guesswork.‌⁠

“Have‌⁠‍ a good day‍ today as well.”‌

“I’ll⁠ do my best, Supervisor.”

I simply say whatever‍ seems appropriate for‍ the situation.

Then‌ he nods.

Even though I don’t‌ understand what he’s‍ saying, he seems to think we’re⁠ having a conversation‍ and continues growling‍ while rattling his‌ chains.

But⁠‍ Assistant Manager Son‍‍⁠ is different.

Lately,‌ I’ve been deliberately avoiding him.

‘I‌⁠ can’t look him in the face.’‌

Even‌ though he doesn’t⁠⁠ actually have eyes,⁠⁠ a nose, or‌‍ a mouth.

I no longer laugh‌‍ with him over‌ coffee like I used to.

I can’t erase from⁠ my mind the fact that he‍ crushed a person’s‍ head with that‍ fist.

And‍ I can’t forget⁠ the image of⁠ myself standing there‍ doing nothing, like⁠ prey.

Assistant‍‍‌ Manager Son still‍⁠ smiles.

He‍‌ still tells me.‍‌

“Haeil,‌⁠‌ you’re doing well.”‌

And⁠‍ he still treats‌‌⁠ me kindly.

But‍⁠ even now, every‌‌ time he says‌⁠ it, I feel⁠‌ a tingling sensation‍‌ in my fingertips.⁠‍‍

I’m⁠‍ holding myself together⁠⁠ so I won’t‌⁠ collapse.

Repeating⁠⁠ that fact to‌ myself several times⁠ a day, today once again I enter the extraction‌ room.

I engage in staring⁠ contests with horned‌ monsters.

I wipe away the‌‍ mucus of dimensional‌⁠ entities that cry‌ sadly.

And⁠‍ I act like‌ a true employee‌‍ of this company‌ in order to‌ survive.

But.‍

I still haven’t forgotten‍‌ that I’m human.‍

And‌⁠ so I won’t‌ forget, every night⁠⁠ when I return to my apartment,⁠⁠ I write a sentence on the‌ wall.

[I am human.]

That‍ sentence was the‍⁠‍ last frontier of‍ my sanity.

***‍‍

Gluuug.‌⁠‌

At⁠‌ the same moment‍‍ I heard the‍⁠⁠ sound of water⁠‍ draining away, I lowered my head.⁠⁠

A few drops still‌ remained on my‍ hands.

My‍ face was already⁠⁠⁠ wet, though I didn’t know whether‌‌ it was from‌ washing it or from cold sweat.‍‍⁠

I slowly exhaled and‍‌ looked at my⁠‍ reflection in the⁠ mirror.

“Am‍⁠ I going to‌ starve to death?”⁠

The‌ words slipped out‍ of my mouth⁠‌‍ on their own.‍⁠‌

I avoid lunch because⁠⁠ it gives me‍ a bad feeling.‍

The‍⁠ excuse is always‍⁠ the same.

‘I‍‍‌ brought lunch from home.’

Of⁠‌ course, I didn’t.⁠

I had no food‍⁠ left.

The‍⁠ only things remaining⁠‌ in my apartment‌ were half a package of expired‌ ramen and a bottle of some‍‌ mysterious vinegar-flavored probiotic‌⁠ drink.

I didn’t have time to go grocery⁠⁠‌ shopping.

And‌‌‌ more importantly, I had no way⁠ to do it.

The‌ company was my home.

My‌ home was the‌⁠ company.

And‌ the distance between‌ them was a single step.

Movement‌‌ had been cut‍‌ off.

The⁠‌ world was closed.‌

‘When‍ will I live⁠‍ like a person⁠‍⁠ again?’

There‍ are no people around me at‍ the company.

And‌ when I return⁠ home, not even⁠⁠‍ the monsters that fill the company‌ are there.

The‍‍‍ face reflected in‌⁠‌ the mirror grows‌⁠ paler every day.‍‌

I feel like one‌ day I’ll truly‍‌ disappear.

Not⁠‌‌ as a person.⁠‍

Not‍ even as Jeong‌ Haeil.

I dried my gaunt‍ face and slowly‍⁠‍ opened the bathroom⁠ door.

Click.

“Oh,⁠ you finally came‍‌ out.”

Manager‍‍ Batori was waiting‍‌ on the other‍ side, holding a thermal tumbler.

Her‍⁠ wrist was pale white.

Her‌ nails were dyed⁠⁠‍ red.

And‌‌ a transparent straw⁠ protruded from the‍‌ container.

Inside‌‍‌ it swirled a dark reddish liquid.‍‍

“Ah,⁠ Manager Batori.”

“Fufu.‍ Lunch break was⁠‍ almost over, so⁠ I decided to‍‍‍ wait for you.”⁠

Manager‍ Batori’s eyes turned⁠⁠ toward me as⁠‍ she slightly tilted‍‌ her head.

A face without makeup.‍

Perfectly‍‍ groomed silver hair.‌⁠‍

And‍ a strange smile‌⁠‌ that seemed to‍⁠‍ tear at the⁠ corners of her lips.

“Have you eaten yet?”‍

“Yes. Lately, homemade lunches sit better with‌ me.”

That‍‍ stupid lie slipped⁠ automatically from my⁠ mouth.

Manager‌ Batori’s gaze slowly⁠⁠⁠ dropped to my‍ hands.

Empty.‌⁠

Without⁠ any lunch bag.‌‍

But‌‌ she simply smiled‍‌ without saying anything.⁠⁠

The‍ corner of her‌‌ eye curved slightly.⁠⁠

Beneath‍ the opening of⁠‌‌ her shirt, against‌ her snow-white skin,⁠⁠ a small mouth⁠ moved as though⁠ it were laughing.‍⁠

“If⁠‍ you don’t have⁠‌ an appetite, would you like a sip?”

she⁠⁠ asked while gently‍⁠ shaking the thermal‍‍ tumbler.

I tried to maintain‍‌ my smile.

“Haha.‍⁠ You’re joking, right?”

“Who‍‍ knows?”

Manager Batori slowly twirled‍ the straw between‌‍ her fingers while looking directly at⁠⁠‍ me.

Her‌‍⁠ gaze moved through⁠ me as though‍⁠‌ she were swirling‍⁠⁠ ice cubes inside‌ a glass.

“Or⁠ perhaps you don’t like our food?”‌

“Huh?”‍

For‍‍⁠ an instant, it‌‍ felt as though‍‌‍ the air had‍ stopped.

My⁠ heart skipped a beat.

I barely managed to‍ keep my eyes‍⁠ from trembling.

Only‍‍ then did Manager‌ Batori let out‌‍ a delayed laugh.‌‌

Her lips parted into⁠ a beautiful smile as she spoke.

“I⁠‌ mean the company⁠ cafeteria.”

“…Yes.‍ A little.”

“Fufufu.‍‍ Don’t be so⁠‌ nervous.”

The‌‍ straw returned to‍‌‌ her lips.

Thud!‌‌

Supervisor⁠‌ Shik’s footsteps echoed‌⁠‌ across the floor.⁠‌‌

The⁠‍ sound of chains⁠‍ accompanied him.

The‌ afternoon shift was⁠‍ beginning.

Manager‍‍‍ Batori brushed her⁠‌ silver hair aside⁠ with one hand.‌‌‍

The⁠⁠ movement was elegant‌‍ and threatening at⁠‍ the same time.‌

I avoided her red⁠ eyes.

She‌‌‌ remained smiling motionlessly.‌

But‍‍ there was not‍ the slightest trace‍⁠⁠ of warmth in‍‍ her gaze.

She⁠‌ tilted the straw‍ between her lips‌‌ slightly and stepped‌ closer to me.⁠

“Your‌ face doesn’t look⁠⁠ well. The color‍‌ around your eyes,⁠‌ the tone of‌ your skin—everything has‌‍‌ lost the brightness⁠‍‌ it once had.”⁠‌‍

I forced a smile.‌

“I’m‍‍ fine, Manager. I just haven’t been sleeping well lately.”⁠⁠

“Sleeping?”⁠‌‍

Manager‌ Batori’s red eyes⁠‍‍ narrowed slightly.

She‌‍⁠ continued speaking slowly,⁠‍‍ as though savoring⁠‌ the aroma of an aged wine.‍

“One who cannot sleep‍‌ does not suffer because of the‍⁠ rebellion of the body. It is‍ the mind that⁠ is restless. And‌ when the mind‌ is restless, it‌‌‍ means the abyss‌‍⁠ is calling to⁠⁠‌ you.”

Her‍ manner of speaking‌ remained elegant.

As‍ comforting and unpleasant as an old‍‍ carpet in an⁠⁠ ancient mansion.

I merely nodded.

I had absolutely no response to such⁠‍ incomprehensible words.

She gently swirled the‍ thermal tumbler and spoke quietly.

“I’ll‌‍ tell Manager Myeon to take care‌⁠ of your work⁠‌‍ this afternoon. I think it would⁠‌‍ be better if‌ you talked with me for a while.”

“I’m really fine. If‌ I just rest‌ a little—”

“It⁠ will only take‍ a moment. Have⁠⁠‌ you visited the‍⁠ lounge? It’s quite⁠ quiet and comfortable, so don’t worry.”‍‍⁠

Her⁠‌‍ chilling red gaze‍ fell upon my⁠ face as though⁠ it wanted to‌‍‍ crush it.

When‍‌‍ she took a step toward me,⁠ I instinctively stepped‍‌⁠ back.

But‍ I stumbled against⁠ the bathroom threshold.⁠

There‌ was nowhere left‌⁠ for me to⁠ run.

And⁠ that was when⁠‍ it happened.

Riiip.‍

With‍ a tearing sound, the back of‌ Manager Batori’s head⁠ slowly split open⁠‍ without any warning.⁠‍

A writhing mass of‍ red muscle emerged⁠ from within her‍ long silver hair.‍

That‌ flesh, bound together⁠‍‌ by blood vessels, coiled around my⁠‌ arm like a snake.

“…Ah…‍‌ ah…”

Before‍⁠ I could even‍ make a sound,‍⁠ I had already⁠ been captured.

My‌‍ elbow and wrist‌ were immobilized.

My‍⁠ feet partially lifted‍‍‌ from the floor.‌

The‌ tentacles dragged me⁠‌ slowly but firmly‌⁠ while a slimy‍⁠ sensation coated my⁠‍‍ skin.

“I’m‌ really fine, Manager…!‍‍ I-I really—!”

“Jeong‌⁠‍ Haeil.”

She softly spoke my⁠ name.

My‍ body froze.

Her⁠‌‌ hand rested against my lips.

“Be‌‌⁠ quiet. Don’t you⁠ notice how much your voice is‍ trembling?”

“……”‍

“You⁠ simply need a little time to‍ calm the blood‍‌⁠ in your heart.”⁠‍⁠

I said nothing.

Or‍ rather, I could‍ no longer say anything.

Like‍‌ a sheep being‌‌ dragged to slaughter—helpless,‍ docile, and without‍‌ resistance—I was being pulled along.

The⁠‌ sound of my‌‍⁠ shoe soles scraping across the corridor floor left a trail behind me.⁠

Manager‌‌ Batori never made‌‍ a scene.

She⁠ simply walked calmly‍‍ and elegantly while‌ dragging me toward‍ the lounge.

Just‍‍ before the lounge‌ door opened, she‍ spoke without even⁠‌‌ looking back.

“Don’t‌ worry. We’ll only‌⁠ share a little⁠ blood.”

Blood?‌

The‌‌ door closed.

And‌ then.

Click.‌‍‌

I heard the sound‌⁠‌ of the lock‌⁠‍ engaging.

The‌ lights flickered.

Even‌ after the door‍‍ closed and locked,⁠‌ the lounge remained‌‌⁠ silent.

So silent that I could clearly hear‌⁠ the violent pounding of my own‌‍‌ heart.

“Sit‌‍ down.”

She spoke quietly as⁠‌⁠ she elegantly reclined⁠ in a high-backed chair.

Her⁠‍ silver hair brushed against her shoulders⁠‌ with a soft‍⁠‌ sound.

I carefully sat in‌ the chair opposite‍‌ her, the one she had pointed‌‍ to with a finger.

The instant I sat‌‍ down, an unfamiliar chill ran down‍ my spine.

And‌ when I raised⁠ my head to‌‌ look at Manager‌⁠⁠ Batori.

I felt it for‌ the first time.‌

A sensation I had‌⁠ never experienced before.‌⁠

An‍ emotion that could‌ only be named‍ through the language⁠ of instinct.

An‍‌ ancient fear.

Primitive.⁠

Manager⁠ Batori was smiling.‍‌

The‌⁠ corners of her‌ lips were gentle.‍

Her⁠‍‍ voice was calm.‍

Her⁠ posture was composed.⁠

But‌ behind that appearance,‌ I could clearly⁠‍ feel an overwhelming‍ hunger.

What a deer feels‌ when standing before‌‌‍ a predator.

The⁠⁠ silence just before⁠ a rabbit recognizes⁠⁠ a hawk.

The‍‌ helpless realization of‌‌ prey for whom even breathing is an act of betrayal.

I felt my mind‌⁠ splitting in two.⁠⁠‌

Had it always been‍‌ this difficult to‍ look directly at her?

My⁠ head burned.

A drop of cold‍ sweat ran down‍⁠ my back.

“Are‍‌ you afraid?”

Manager⁠ Batori’s eyes narrowed.‌‍

Red‍ eyes.

Predator’s eyes.

A liquid crimson that‍‌⁠ seemed to absorb‍ light into itself.⁠‍‌

She⁠ closed her lips‌⁠‌ and then opened them again.

Her‍ pronunciation was smooth.⁠‌

Ancient‌‌‌ words, like the‌ aroma of aged wine.

But‌‍ behind them hid‍ the fangs of⁠ a beast.

“It’s‍‌‌ alright. That fear⁠⁠‌ is completely justified.”‍

Riiip.‍

The‌ skin covering Manager⁠ Batori’s neck split‍ open, revealing a massive mouth that⁠‍ slowly licked its‌‌ lips.

“That feeling you experience‍ while standing before‌ me is precisely⁠⁠ the proof that⁠ you are human.”‍

Ah.‍

She‌‍ had definitely said⁠⁠ the word human.⁠‍

It‍‌ seems this will‍‍ be the form⁠ my death takes.‍

Manager Batori’s dessert.

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Chapter 12: So I Won’t Forget That I’m Human

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