There Are No Humans in the Monster Company — Chapter 21: White Order

Chapter 21: White Order

“But‍⁠ before that.”

Just‌‌ as we were⁠ preparing to head‍ to Area A of the Extraction⁠‍ Hall, Manager Myeon⁠ spoke.

The‍‍ face that appeared to be the‍ most prudent among‍⁠ his seven faces‌‍ looked at me.⁠‍

More⁠‍ precisely, it looked‍‌ at the mask‍⁠ of his own‍⁠ face attached to‍ mine, which was already trembling slightly.⁠‌

“The⁠ safer the situation,‌‍ the better. A Rank A dimensional‍ entity may be⁠ difficult to face‌‍‍ with only the‍ mask. You should⁠ have accumulated some‍ benefit points by now, so Assistant‍‍ Manager Son, take⁠‌‍ Mr. Jeong to‌⁠ the Prototype Storage.”‌‌

“Oh,‌ already? Well, alright. Come on, Mr.‍‍ Haeil.”

“Yes, understood.”

Prototype‌‍‍ Storage?

Assistant Manager Son took the lead and‌ headed toward the‍ elevator.

The⁠‌ elevator we boarded‌‌‌ behind him began‍‍ moving smoothly again,‌ as if it⁠⁠ had lost all‍ sense of direction,‌ although this time‍‌ it did not‍ take as long⁠ as when we‌‍ went to the⁠⁠⁠ cafeteria.

Ding—‌‍

As‌⁠ soon as the‍‌ doors opened, I took a deep‌ breath.

Everything⁠ was white.

The‌ walls, the floor,⁠⁠‌ the ceiling, and‍ even the lighting‍⁠ seemed determined not⁠ to allow a single shadow.

‘It‍‌ looks like a psychiatric hospital.’

No.⁠‌

Maybe‌⁠ it was even⁠‌ worse.

That‍‍ space tolerated neither‍ a speck of‌ dust nor a single irregular stain.⁠‍‌ It was so‍‌ perfectly organized that‌‍ it felt suffocating.‌‌

The‍ employees walking through‍ the hallways wore‍ completely white suits and gas masks.‌⁠

And⁠ I knew exactly‌⁠ what that meant.‌‍⁠

‘The‍ Order Control Room.’⁠‌‍

I remembered Manager Batori’s explanation.

The‍ white territory ruled‌⁠ by Executive Director‍‍ Seol.

The⁠⁠⁠ place from which‌‍ the Security Team‍ and the Audit‌ Team maintained order‌⁠ within the company.

As⁠‌ I absentmindedly watched‍‌ those white-clad employees walking with steps‍‌⁠ so uniform it‍ was as if‍⁠ they measured every‌‍ movement with a ruler, Assistant Manager‍ Son spoke.

“Impressive⁠ atmosphere, right? I hate this place‍ more than anywhere‍ else. I feel⁠‍⁠ like if I spill a cup‌ of coffee, they’ll⁠ arrest me immediately.”⁠

Assistant⁠‍ Manager Son crossed his arms while‌ shaking his fist-shaped⁠⁠ head.

His⁠‌‍ grotesque appearance stood‍ out especially strangely⁠‍ in that white‍ space.

“Assistant Manager, what exactly‍ are prototypes?”

“Hmm,‍ they’re out-of-spec items.‌ Test products that‍⁠ are too dangerous,‌‍ too expensive, or‍⁠ defective and can’t‍‍ be mass-produced. Sometimes‍ they also show‌ up in the internal store.”

He⁠ shrugged.

“To‌ put it nicely,⁠‍ they’re free equipment.⁠ Realistically, they’re clinical⁠⁠‍ trials disguised as‍‍‍ disposal of leftovers.”⁠

Assistant⁠‍ Manager Son stopped‌‍⁠ in front of⁠⁠ a heavy white‌‍ door that read.⁠

Prototype‍ Storage

“Normally,‌‌ this place is⁠ managed by the⁠‍‍ Security Team Leader,⁠ but you know how it is.‍ She’s always busy.”⁠⁠‍

When⁠ he brought his⁠‍ head close to‌ the scanner beside‌‍ the door, it‍ opened with a mechanical noise.

Clank—

A blast of icy‌ air greeted us‍ from inside.

Strange‍⁠ devices emitting mysterious‍⁠ lights were displayed⁠‍⁠ like museum relics.‌‌‌

And‌‌ there was also⁠ a desk.

An⁠‌ elegant office desk‍⁠ near the entrance.‌‌‍

And‌‍⁠ the moment I saw the person‌ sitting there, my pulse slowed slightly.⁠

Because‌ he was another⁠‌‍ human.

‘From‍ the Emotional Department…?’‍‌

I didn’t know whether⁠‌ he was a seal-human or a tool-human.

But⁠ he was human.‍⁠‌

A middle-aged man who‍⁠ looked as though he had endured‌‍‌ entire decades with⁠⁠‌ his own body.‌⁠

Even‌‌ seated, his height‍⁠ seemed comparable to⁠‌ mine thanks to‌⁠ his massive build.⁠

He‌ wore an immaculate‌⁠‌ pure white suit.

He‍⁠ appeared to be‍ over forty years‍‌‍ old.

His⁠⁠ face looked like⁠‍ a plaster statue⁠ that had been⁠ smashed with a hammer and then⁠ forcibly glued back‌‍‍ together.

His gray hair, combed‍⁠‌ completely backward, looked‌ cold as frost‍‌⁠ beneath the white⁠ lighting.

The⁠‍‌ numerous scars crossing his face and‍‌⁠ his corpse-pale skin⁠‌⁠ proved that his‍‌ life had been⁠‌ anything but a normal office life.‍

‘He’s⁠⁠⁠ dried out.’

That‍ was my immediate⁠‍‌ assessment.

He looked like a veteran butcher who⁠ had committed so‌‍‍ many slaughters that‍‍‍ he no longer⁠‌ felt anything.

Or‌‌ an executioner who‌‍ had long ago burned away all his remorse and‍‌ sins.

When⁠⁠ our eyes met,‍ I felt a chill run down⁠ my spine.

‘He’s⁠ definitely… human…’

This‌⁠ was an encounter⁠ with a healthy‍ member of my own species.

But⁠‌ the command my‌ brain issued was‍‌ not joy.

It⁠‍ was.

‘Run.’‍⁠‍

It‍ was different from‍ what I felt‌‍‌ when facing Manager‌‌ Batori’s blood-red eyes‍ or Supervisor Shik’s‍ fangs.

It‍⁠‌ was like standing⁠‍ in front of‌‌ a perfectly sharpened⁠‍ guillotine.

An⁠‍ uncomfortable sensation that⁠‌ made me want⁠ to flee.

“It’s‍‍ dirty.”

His⁠‌ voice was completely‌ devoid of warmth.‍

He‌ took a white‌ handkerchief from the‍‌ desk and began‍ obsessively cleaning a pair of black‍‍ leather gloves that⁠ already appeared spotless.‌‍‍

Swish.‌‌⁠ Swish.

The‌ sound of fabric‌‌ brushing against leather broke the silence‌‍ of the storage⁠ room.

I watched those movements‌‌ while holding my‌⁠ breath.

It⁠ was far too precise to be‍‌ someone simply cleaning‌ his hands.

From⁠‍⁠ thumb to little‍⁠ finger.

Every⁠ joint was rubbed‌‍ exactly three times.‍‌

It‌ did not look‍⁠‍ like a habit.

It‍⁠ looked like a ritual.

‘He‌‍ isn’t even looking⁠ at us.’

Was⁠ he ignoring us?‍⁠

No.⁠‍‍

It‍‌‌ wasn’t indifference either.‌

His‌⁠ empty tone and‌⁠ hollow gaze.

Even‍ when he said‍‍⁠ it was dirty,⁠ there was no‍‌ hatred or contempt‌ in his voice.‌‌

It‍‍‍ was simply the‌‌ statement of a fact.

As⁠⁠ neutral as saying‍ it was raining.‌

His‍ eyes remained fixed⁠ on the back‌‌ of his hand.

But⁠‍ I could feel‌⁠‍ it.

The‌‍ muscles of the hand holding the‌‌ handkerchief seemed relaxed‌⁠‌ and tense at⁠‍ the same time.‍

As‌‍ though they could‌ shoot forward and‍⁠ tear out my⁠ throat at any‌ moment.

“Audit⁠‌ Team Director Go‍‍ Gyeol… what are⁠‌‍ you doing here…?”⁠

Go‌⁠‍ Gyeol.

A name that seemed⁠⁠⁠ to fit him⁠ perfectly and at the same time‍ not fit him‍‌ at all.

Assistant‌ Manager Son had‍ probably deliberately mentioned‍⁠ both his name and title out‍‌‍ of consideration for‍ me.

My⁠‌ eyes moved between⁠⁠ Assistant Manager Son‌⁠ and Director Go‍ Gyeol.

Even‍ he, who had‌‍ crushed an Emotional⁠‍ Department employee’s head‍ simply for seeming‌ too human, was‍‌‌ clearly submissive in‌ front of this⁠‌ man.

His⁠⁠‌ fist-head was tense.⁠

His‍ posture was restrained.

And⁠⁠ his respect was⁠ absolute.

“Moon‌ Ara is away‍ on an external⁠ security matter.”

The⁠ man replied in‌‌ a dry voice as he slowly‌ turned his head‌‍ toward me.

Every‌ place his gaze‌‌ touched became covered⁠‌ in chills.

It was not the‌ way one person looked at another.‍‌

It⁠⁠‍ was the way⁠ a sanitation worker‌‌ sorted garbage or⁠ waste that needed⁠ to be disposed⁠ of.

“So‍‍‌ it was true‌⁠⁠ that Manager Myeon‍⁠ values someone enough‌ to tear off‌‌ one of his‌ own faces.”

His⁠ gaze shifted to⁠ the facial mask‌ of Manager Myeon‌ that I was‌‍ wearing.

“Your fishy smell is⁠ unbearable.”

When‍⁠ he rose from‍ the chair, his‌ height clearly exceeded⁠‌ two meters.

The ceiling lights were‍ swallowed by the⁠ enormous shadow he‌ cast.

He‌ approached slowly.

Step.‍ Step.

And‍⁠ when he stopped‌ in front of⁠ me, I felt‌‌ an overwhelming pressure‌ descend upon my‌⁠ head.

His‍ enormous black leather-gloved⁠⁠ hand cut through⁠ the air.

For⁠ a moment, I stopped breathing.

I was convinced that‌ if that hand⁠ grabbed me, my‌⁠ head would burst‌‌‍ like a ripe‍‌ watermelon.

‘Dangerous…’‍‌

Nothing‍ happened.

His‍ hand merely swept‍ through the air⁠ near my shoulder,‍ as if brushing‌ away an invisible⁠‍ speck of dust,‍‌⁠ and then lowered‌ again.

“Name?”‌

“…I’m⁠⁠ Jeong Haeil, a new employee of⁠ Extraction Team 1.‌⁠ It’s a pleasure‍ to meet you,⁠‌ Director Go Gyeol.”‍‍

He‍⁠‌ pulled out the‌ handkerchief again and‍‌ resumed cleaning his gloves.

That obsessively meticulous behavior‌⁠‍ from someone of⁠‌ my own species made me feel‍ more miserable and frightened than any‌ roar from a dimensional entity.

‘The‍‌ humans I imagined weren’t like this.’‍

Was‍‍‍ this what the‍⁠ humans of Limited⁠‌ Company Where the Dead End Up‍‍‌ with Ghosts Ltd.‌ were like?

He⁠‌ seemed far more‍ distant than the⁠‍⁠ human employees whose‌⁠⁠ heads had exploded in the Extraction⁠⁠ Hall.

“They‌‌⁠ always come here‌ for the same⁠⁠ reason.”

Director‌ Go Gyeol slipped‍ the handkerchief back⁠‍ into his pocket as he spoke⁠ quietly.

Instead‍ of sitting down‌ again, he began⁠ walking slowly between‍ the display cases.‌‍

Step. Step.

Each‌ strike of his shoes against the‌⁠ white floor sent‍ vibrations all the⁠ way to my‌‌‍ ankles.

“So,⁠‍ what have you⁠⁠ come to take‌ this time, Assistant‍‍ Manager Son? I hope you have⁠‍‍ enough achievements to⁠‍⁠ justify the exchange.”

“Ah,‌‌ well, Manager Myeon ordered us to‍ bring the rookie to Area A.⁠‌ We need some kind of prototype…”‌

Assistant‍‍ Manager Son answered⁠ cautiously, though there‍‍‌ was a hint⁠‍ of urgency in‌ his voice.

“Even‌ if he’s only‍ observing, he’s still‍‌ a rookie. I’d‍⁠‍ like to get at least one⁠‌ piece of defensive equipment. Even something⁠‍ normally sold in‌ the internal store‌ would do.”

When‍ he finished speaking,⁠ Director Go Gyeol’s‍⁠‌ hand stopped in‍ front of a display case.

Instead of answering, he⁠⁠ silently examined a strange helmet displayed‍⁠ behind the glass.⁠‌

“An⁠ observation visit…?”

Then⁠⁠‍ he resumed walking.‌

Step. Step.

Each time his shoes⁠ echoed with that⁠ steady rhythm, it⁠⁠‌ felt as though‌ my throat tightened‌ in time with⁠ it.

As‍ he passed by‍‍ me, he cast‍ a fleeting glance‌ in my direction,‌⁠ as if observing a speck of⁠ dust floating through‌ the air.

“Manager‌‍ Myeon has lost‌⁠‌ his mind as‍ well. Or perhaps⁠‍ this company has⁠‌ already gone too⁠⁠⁠ far. Bringing an‌‍‌ untrained sack of‍ blood before a Grade A dimensional⁠⁠ entity.”

“Haha…⁠ well, this kid‌ has more talent‍‌‌ than he looks‌ like he does.”

Assistant‍ Manager Son smiled⁠‍ awkwardly as he patted my shoulder.‍

There‌ was much more⁠‌ force than usual⁠‌ behind the gesture.

“Talent?”⁠⁠⁠

Director⁠‍⁠ Go Gyeol stopped.‌⁠

He⁠ ran a finger across an invisible‍ layer of dust‌‍ on a display⁠‌ case and then‍⁠ pulled out his⁠ handkerchief again to⁠‌ clean that very‍ finger.

“In‍ this place, talent only means one‌ thing. How efficiently you can go‌ insane.”

Holding⁠‍ the handkerchief, he⁠‍ looked directly at⁠ me.

Beyond those sunken gray⁠ eyes, I could‌ see the weariness‍ of a cleaner‍⁠ who had collected⁠ countless pieces of‌‍ trash.

“Have⁠ you ever heard⁠‌ the sound of‌ your brain melting?‌‍‍ Or felt your‌⁠ identity crumble like‍‌ sand until you⁠‍ forgot who you‌‍⁠ were?”

I could not answer.

I simply endured his‌ gaze.

As‌ though my silence‍⁠⁠ displeased him, Go⁠‌ Gyeol frowned slightly.⁠‌‍

Every‍‌ time those gray‍ eyes traveled across‍‍ my body, it‍ felt as though⁠ a sharp scalpel‍‌ was peeling away‌‍ my skin layer‍ by layer.

“To‌ my eyes, you’re just another filthy stain.”

Just as it became‍ obvious that the‌‍ situation was heading‌ in a very⁠‌ bad direction—

Assistant‌ Manager Son snatched‌ the phone I had uselessly kept‍ in my pocket⁠‍ and showed it‍⁠ to Director Go‍ Gyeol.

Startled,⁠ I tried to⁠‌‍ take it back,⁠ but Son naturally⁠ blocked me while⁠⁠ opening an unfamiliar⁠ application.

“Haha.‌ Well, he’s still⁠‍‍ a rookie, but‌‍ even during his⁠ probation period he’s‍⁠ already accumulated more⁠ benefit points than‍⁠ most supervisors. Even‍‍ Executive Director Gu⁠ is watching him‌‍ closely because he‌ says he’s a ‘monster.’ Don’t you‍‌‍ think he’s worth‍‌ investing in?”

Go‌‍‍ Gyeol’s hand, which‍‍ had been moving⁠‌ toward his waist, stopped.

Only then did I notice what was⁠ hanging there.

It‌‌ was an object roughly one and‌‌ a half meters⁠ long, completely wrapped‌⁠ in bandages.

Even‍ so, it was‌‌ obvious that it‌‍ was shaped like‌‍ a sword or⁠ a saber.

‘…Just⁠ now? Was he‍⁠ about to draw that?’

He‌‍ lowered his gaze‍‍⁠ with apparent indifference.⁠‍‍

But‍‌‌ the moment he‍ saw the string‍⁠ of incomprehensible numbers⁠⁠ on the screen,‌‌ even his expressionless⁠‌⁠ face showed the⁠ faintest crack.

“After⁠ rolling around in‌‌⁠ garbage… he’ll eventually‍ wear himself down until there’s nothing‍‍ left.”

What⁠ appeared on his‌ face as he‍ muttered those words…

Was‍ not admiration.

Nor‍‌⁠ envy.

Only‌‌‌ a fraction of‌⁠‌ a second of‍ cold pity.

The⁠⁠ kind one might‌ feel while looking‍ at a baby⁠ animal.

“He’ll‍‍ be lucky if⁠ he doesn’t go‍‍⁠ insane. Though perhaps going insane is‍⁠ the cleanest ending⁠ possible.”

With⁠‍⁠ a dry, mocking smile, he walked‌‍ toward the deepest section of the⁠ display cases.

Assistant‍⁠⁠ Manager Son seemed‌ slightly encouraged, as‍ though this reaction⁠ had been unexpected.‌

A short while later,⁠ a black velvet‍ box appeared.

“The⁠‍ human mind is‍ more fragile than‍⁠ glass. If you⁠ want to force‌‌⁠ that weak sanity⁠‍ to stay together,‍‌ this is the‍‌‌ best thing you’ll‌ find.”

When‌ Go Gyeol opened⁠ the box, a rosary emitting an‍‌⁠ unsettling red glow‌ appeared.

Each‌‌ bead had an⁠‍ irregular shape, as⁠ though carved from⁠‍⁠ drops of dried‌‍ blood.

A small fragment of⁠ bone engraved with⁠‌ the image of⁠ an eye hung⁠ from the center.‍

“The‍ Relics of the⁠ Smiling Martyr.”

Go‍ Gyeol spoke quietly.⁠

“It‌⁠‌ doesn’t block mental‌ interference. It numbs‌ the user’s emotions⁠ and senses to suppress fear and pain. It will pair well with⁠ that mask.”

He‌ picked up the‍⁠ rosary and tossed⁠‍‌ it to me.‌

I caught it by‌ reflex.

It⁠‌⁠ was much heavier⁠‌‍ than I expected.

And‍⁠‌ it was as‌‍ cold as if it had just⁠‍‍ been pulled from⁠⁠‌ ice water.

“Put‌ it on. But⁠ be careful. It⁠‍ only mitigates the‌ effects. It doesn’t‍‍ block them completely. And remember one thing.”

His⁠ gray eyes fixed‌⁠ themselves on me.‍

“You‌ are not valuable. You are merely‍ an easily replaceable piece.”

“…Thank‍‌ you.”

I swallowed hard as‌ I fastened the‌ rosary around my‌‍ wrist.

At‌ that instant, a sharp sensation shot‌‌ through my arm,‍‌ as though my hand had been‌‌‍ amputated.

Then‍ all sensation in⁠⁠ my arm began⁠ to fade.

My⁠ vision became slightly‍ blurry.

And‍ the oppressive presence‍‌⁠ of Go Gyeol,⁠ which had been‍ crushing me only⁠ moments ago, began‍ to feel like⁠ nothing more than‌ that of a very large man.‌‌‌

“…Well,‌ Mr. Haeil? Feeling‌ better?”

Assistant⁠ Manager Son asked while watching my expression.

“Yes.‍ I feel like…⁠ my mind has‌‌ become incredibly quiet.”‌

“That’s how it should⁠ be. That’s the⁠ side effect.”

Go‌⁠ Gyeol already seemed to have lost interest.

He⁠‌‍ returned to his‌ desk and pulled‌ out the handkerchief⁠ once more.

He‍ began cleaning a corner of the⁠‌ desk.

“You‌ have your equipment.‍‌‌ Get out. I hate breathing the‌‌‌ contaminated air of⁠ the Extraction Hall.”⁠‌

The‌‌⁠ moment he issued‍‌‌ that dismissal, Assistant‌‌ Manager Son gently‌‍ pushed my shoulder‌ and led me⁠ toward the exit.⁠‌⁠

Just‍ before the door‍ closed, I looked back.

The‍⁠⁠ white room.

The‌ white suit.

And⁠ that gray-eyed man⁠‌ who seemed to‍⁠‍ have died inside‌‍ long ago.

Once‍‌ again, he was⁠‍⁠ submerged in silence,‌‌ obsessively cleaning the desk as though‍‍ trying to erase⁠‍ all the filth‍ from this company.‌⁠

He‍⁠ looked like someone‌⁠ desperately trying to‌ remove something that‍‍⁠ could never be‍ cleaned away.

“…Come on, Mr. Haeil.⁠ It’s time to⁠ see a genuine Grade A dimensional⁠ entity.”

At‍‌‍ the sound of‍‌‌ Assistant Manager Son’s‌ voice, I turned‍‍‌ my head.

On‍⁠ my wrist, the‍‍ Relics of the‍‍ Smiling Martyr, redder⁠⁠⁠ than blood, pulsed‍ with a constant‌ coldness.

==========‍

[Security⁠⁠ Team Prototype Management‌‌ Record: Prototype-014]

Product Name: The Relics of the Smiling‍‍ Martyr

Assigned User: Employee Jeong‍ Haeil, Extraction Team 1

Approved⁠ By: Director Go‌ Gyeol, Audit Team⁠‍⁠

[Product‍‌ Summary]

Manufactured‌‌ from the remains⁠‌‍ of Manager ■,‌‌‍ who died during⁠ the containment failure‌ of A-6 (Mercy‌‌ That Crawls Low)⁠ while retaining his⁠‍ sanity and a smile until the‌ very end.

A mental-defense sensory-blocking device‍ designed to compensate‌ for the limitations⁠‌ of cognitive filtering‌ equipment.

[Capabilities⁠ and Mechanism]

Sensory‍⁠ Immunity

Before⁠‌ external cognitive interference‌ (fear, reverence, the⁠ sensation of an overwhelming presence) reaches the amygdala, the‍ nervous system receives⁠‍⁠ a partial shock‍ and becomes numbed,‍‍ blocking the reaction‍‌ itself.

Pain‌ Sublimation

When⁠‌ the user suffers‌ physical or mental⁠⁠ damage, the residual‍‍ will contained within⁠‌ the relics forcibly relaxes the nervous‌‌ system, causing the⁠‍⁠ user to interpret‍ pain as a feeling of calm.‍

[Reasons⁠‍ for Prototype Classification]‌

Nervous‌ System Invasion

Prolonged⁠‌ use allows bone dust to enter‌ through the pores‌‍‍ and into the⁠‍⁠ bloodstream, synchronizing the⁠⁠ user’s pulse with the heartbeat of⁠ the relics.

There⁠‍‌ is a risk‍⁠⁠ of developing permanent emotional numbness.

Paralysis‍⁠⁠ of the Fear Mechanism

Since⁠ fear, an essential‌⁠ survival mechanism, becomes‍ disabled, the likelihood increases that the⁠‍ user will die⁠ while feeling peaceful‌‌ even as their‌‍‌ body is being destroyed.

(Note: Most employees in‌ Test No. 23‌ died with smiles‌ on their faces.)‍‌‍

Cleaning⁠⁠ Obsession

According‌ to Director Go⁠ Gyeol, if the⁠⁠ relics come into⁠ contact with tears, their cognitive filtering‌ ability decreases drastically‍⁠‍ and, conversely, the‌ user’s mind may‌‍ become contaminated.

Impossibility‍ of Obtaining Raw⁠ Material (Primary Reason)

Only⁠⁠ a single martyr‍ ever provided these‌⁠ remains.

The⁠‌ available amount of‌ bone dust is‍‍⁠ extremely limited.

No‍⁠ additional units can be manufactured, and‌⁠‌ once the existing⁠‍ ones are exhausted,⁠‌ they cannot be‌‌ reproduced.

(Note:‍ Cancel the mass-production‍‌ martyr project.)

[User‌‌‌ Warnings]

When worn on the⁠‍ wrist or neck,⁠‌‍ the user will‌ initially experience a sharp pain similar⁠ to having their‍⁠ nerves amputated.

Shortly‍‌ afterward, they will‍‌ experience the sensation⁠⁠ that the air‌‌ around them has⁠⁠⁠ sunk into absolute⁠ silence.

This‍⁠‍ is part of‌ the normal synchronization‍⁠ process and should be maintained.

==========‍‌⁠

“Assistant‍⁠‌ Manager Son, it⁠⁠ says here that‍⁠ the reason it’s‌⁠ a prototype is⁠ the impossibility of‌‍‌ obtaining raw materials…”‌‍

“It⁠‍ means exactly that.⁠‌‍ Those bones were‍⁠ all that remained.”‌

“I‌ see… there wasn’t⁠‍‌ enough bone dust.”

“To⁠‍‍ make more, we’d⁠ have to deliberately‍⁠‍ let A-6 out⁠‌ of the containment‍ cell and somehow‌‌ get someone to‌‌ become a smiling martyr without being contaminated. It’s far⁠⁠ too inefficient, don’t‍ you think?”

“Instead⁠ of processing a workplace accident claim,‌⁠ do they hand⁠‍ the corpse over‌ to the Refinement‌ Division?”

“Easy,⁠‍ easy. You don’t⁠ seem like the‌‍ type of person‍‌ who’d end up‍ becoming a martyr,⁠‍⁠ Mr. Haeil.”