TAHBPC 09

Chapter 09

 When Your Headless Boss vs. Your Tree Boss

Sik Jooim is an excellent employee.

That was the conclusion I reached after watching him perform extraction work on the entities inside the containment chambers.

The problem was that I wasn’t exactly an excellent employee.

As we continued making rounds through Extraction Room B, one thing became increasingly clear:

Dimensional entities came in every imaginable form.

Some looked like monsters.

Some looked like ordinary objects.

And some looked exactly like humans.

“Hello?”

If that human-looking one hadn’t made me cry tears of blood the moment it spoke, I would have assumed it was an innocent person being wrongfully imprisoned rather than a dimensional entity.

[It is lunchtime.]

How many absurd extraction procedures had I witnessed by now?

A flat mechanical voice echoed from the end of the corridor.

Sik Jooim gave the chains hanging from his body a tug, organizing them with a rattling clink, then lightly nudged me.

Was it affection?

A reminder to go on break?

A warning?

Instinctively, I nodded.

“Yes. Let’s… go eat lunch.”

The hallway was quiet.

The sound of Sik Jooim’s chains scraping across the concrete floor echoed at regular intervals.

Clank— Clank—

I adjusted my pace to match the rhythm.

I didn’t want to accidentally walk ahead of him—or lag behind—and somehow cause a misunderstanding.

Sik Jooim said nothing.

Well, technically, he did.

The problem was that it wasn’t human language.

“Grrrrrr… Hrrrmmm…”

The back of my neck tingled.

Sik Jooim slowly turned his head toward me.

Between his rough mane, his golden eyes glowed.

Instinctively, I straightened my posture and forced a hollow smile onto my face.

“…Yes. I learned a lot today as well.”

I just blurted out whatever seemed appropriate.

At this point, my smile was being controlled by muscle memory rather than my own will.

Sik Jooim bent his knees.

THUD.

His massive frame, well over two and a half meters tall, lowered itself halfway down.

Then he brought his enormous face closer to mine.

His breath smelled like rotting meat mixed with metal dust.

“Grrrrrrrr…”

The low growl vibrated through my ribcage.

I had no idea what he intended.

He stared at me for a long moment.

Then suddenly—

Sik Jooim…

Tapped his forehead against mine.

Thunk.

“…”

Had he just bumped heads with me?

Was I imagining things?

Had I briefly lost consciousness?

Then the giant beast—

Like an oversized wolf or hyena—

Suddenly stuck out his tongue toward my face.

And licked my forehead.

“…Ugh.”

I inhaled sharply and nearly choked.

The tongue was warm.

Wet.

Slimy.

A faint foul odor lingered behind.

Frozen solid, I simply blinked.

Sik Jooim looked down at me and made a sound.

“Grng.”

Then, apparently satisfied, he nodded and resumed walking.

I stood motionless for about five seconds before my body finally started moving again like a machine.

Goosebumps ran down my entire body as my brain slowly processed what had just happened.

Did… did my supervisor just lick my forehead?

The moment the realization hit, cold sweat streamed down my back.

At this point, even the concept of denial felt like a luxury.

It’s probably… a sign of affection…

Surely my supervisor, who had finally acknowledged my existence, was simply saying—

Good job surviving, rookie.

Right?

That’s what it meant.

Surely he wasn’t marking his food with saliva.

I tightly sealed my lips and lowered my head.

The sticky residue still lingering on my forehead…

I decided to believe it was simply a monster supervisor’s version of praise.

We continued walking silently toward the office.

Our shadows stretched across the wall.

The difference in our heights was over seventy centimeters.

One shadow completely swallowed the other.

The office door opened, and the familiar scent of terror greeted us.

“Oh my, you’re back.”

Batori Gwajang smiled gently, her crimson eyes shining.

It was a truly beautiful smile.

Of course, that assessment would have been easier if there weren’t a mouth protruding from a split in her right shoulder.

Apparently she hadn’t eaten yet.

She was rummaging through her bag and pulling out a tumbler.

I had absolutely no desire to learn what liquid was sloshing around inside it.

“You still have good color in your face, Jeong Haeil.”

“Thank you. You look well too, Batori Gwajang.”

“It seems Jeong Sawon is finally adapting. Even Sik Jooim looks more relaxed.”

One by one, the seven faces of Myeon Bujang smiled.

One pair narrowed their eyes.

Another pair smiled warmly.

The rest merely lifted the corners of their mouths.

“Grrr.”

Sik Jooim nodded heavily.

Despite somehow contributing the most to the conversation, I still didn’t understand a single thing he said.

“Then shall we all go get lunch?”

“This one shall go enjoy a bit of fresh air.”

“Grrrk. Grrng. Grrrr.”

“Haha. Jeong Sawon, let us know if the workload gets too heavy. We’ll adjust things.”

Today, once again, I nodded with the brightest smile I could manage and cautiously spoke.

“Ah… I don’t really have much of an appetite today.”

I truly didn’t.

My digestive system still hadn’t returned from the extraction chambers.

At my answer, Myeon Bujang’s seven faces each displayed a different expression.

Batori Gwajang crossed her arms and smiled knowingly.

Son Daeri slowly unfolded the fist that served as his head and asked:

“You aren’t feeling sick, are you?”

“No, I’m fine. I think I just ate ramen too late last night.”

I smiled as naturally as possible.

It was a lie.

Last night, I’d filled my stomach with nightmares, chain-rattling sounds, and the noise of flesh being torn apart.

Sik Jooim stared directly into my eyes.

Then, after a moment, he flicked his rattling chains aside and moved first.

One by one, the supervisors left the office.

Soon, I was alone.

The instant the door clicked shut, strength drained from my knees.

“Haa…”

I returned to my desk in the farthest corner of the now-empty office and sat down.

For the first time all day, the office actually felt safe.

Leaning back into my chair, I felt the tension crushing the back of my neck slowly dissolve.

Just five minutes…

My eyelids drifted shut.

My body melted into the chair.

Whether it was sleep or unconsciousness, I couldn’t tell.

Then—

The moment something cold touched my cheek, my eyes snapped open.

“WHA—!”

A fist was in front of me.

No.

Correction.

The index finger and thumb of a fist-shaped head were pinched together, holding an iced Americano between them.

It was Son Daeri.

More specifically, Son Daeri’s head.

I bit my tongue as hard as possible to stop myself from screaming.

“You shouldn’t skip lunch. At the very least, keep yourself awake with some caffeine.”

“…Thank you, Son Daeri.”

I accepted the cup with both hands and fiddled with the straw.

One sip later, reality—colder than the ice itself—slid down my throat.

The problem is that this coffee came from the company vending machine…

For all I knew, it could have been brewed from things that shouldn’t exist.

Ideally, I wanted to consume absolutely nothing provided by this company.

Still, gratitude was mandatory.

After all, I was fully aware that to my supervisors, I was essentially bite-sized.

Across the office, Myeon Bujang and Batori Gwajang had already returned and were chatting.

As I watched Sik Jooim curled up in the opposite corner, quietly growling to himself, fragments of their conversation drifted over.

Several words immediately caught my attention.

“The containment zones under the Department of Aberrant Disaster Management have become much stricter. Business trips will be difficult for a while. We’ll need to work harder if we want to meet our targets.”

“Are you referring to that odd-eyed newcomer? He appeared to possess excellent blood.”

“The Withered King has been stirring things up too much. It’s troublesome for us.”

“Mok Chajang extended his vacation. I heard he’s staying longer to absorb more nutrients.”

The coffee nearly stopped in my throat.

I’d secretly hoped they were discussing office romances or dinner plans.

But the Department of Aberrant Disaster Management?

An odd-eyed newcomer?

The Withered King?

What in the world were they talking about?

And while we were at it, wasn’t Myeon Bujang technically Batori Gwajang’s superior?

“Haeil, you haven’t met Mok Chajang yet, have you?”

Suddenly, Son Daeri looked up from his tablet.

I set down my cup and nodded.

“No. I heard he’s currently on vacation.”

“That’s right. He’ll be back soon. He’s the last member of Extraction Team 1 you’ll be introduced to.”

He nodded with his fist-shaped head.

Carefully, I asked:

“What kind of person is he?”

“Hmm. Extremely meticulous and thorough. He always handles his responsibilities properly. Kind, considerate, takes care of his team, and is always willing to help.”

“I see.”

That sounded like an ideal supervisor.

At least on paper.

Though in this company, I had no idea what qualified as a “good supervisor.”

Then again, Myeon Bujang was a good boss if you ignored the seven faces.

Batori Gwajang was a good boss if you overlooked the occasional splitting skin.

And Sik Jooim was an excellent boss if you ignored the fact that verbal communication was impossible.

“Especially you, Haeil. You’ve had a good attitude ever since joining. Mok Chajang will appreciate that.”

“Thank you. That’s all thanks to you and the senior staff.”

“Come on, you’re too modest.”

If I weren’t modest, I probably wouldn’t survive long enough to leave this building.

I muttered silently to myself.

Then suddenly, a thought occurred to me.

Mok Chajang.

If his surname was Mok…

Could he be missing a neck?

My brain instantly auto-completed the image.

Funeral attire.

No head.

A severed neck stump gaping open above his shoulders.

A voice resonating from somewhere inside his torso.

Able to speak normally despite lacking a mouth.

The moment I imagined it, the coffee tasted even more bitter.

Cough.

Son Daeri tilted his fist curiously.

I immediately shook my head.

“I-I’m fine. The coffee is… strong.”

“The stronger, the better. You’ve got to keep your head on straight.”

“Haha. That’s true.”

Regardless, when I finally met Mok Chajang, I would definitely need to keep my sanity firmly intact.

What kind of person is Mok Chajang…?

As I drank the rest of my coffee, another possibility naturally surfaced.

Based on experience, perhaps the employees’ surnames were literal clues.

Myeon Bujang’s surname was probably Myeon (面)—Face.

After all, he had seven of them.

Sik Jooim’s was harder to guess.

Perhaps Sik (食)—Food?

Or maybe it was wordplay like Son Daeri.

As for Batori Gwajang…

I’d suspected from the beginning that her name felt oddly out of place.

Considering how often she talks about blood, she’s probably some kind of vampire.

In that case…

“What if it’s not neck Mok (목)… but tree Mok (木)?”

The thought escaped my mouth before I realized it.

I startled myself.

Still, it wasn’t entirely impossible.

In this company, my chair could secretly be an employee.

The sink in the bathroom could be a department manager.

Mok Chajang might be some spore-based lifeform inhabiting a tree.

Eyes growing from a trunk.

Typing on a keyboard with tender branches.

Communicating through vibrations in his roots.

Living entirely on photosynthesis…

My imagination was already spiraling into absurd territory.

Slurp.

I quietly finished my coffee.

Then, accompanied by the familiar rattling of chains, Sik Jooim’s shadow rose once more.

It was time for the afternoon shift.

There’s no way I can quit before Mok Chajang’s vacation ends, is there…?

Entertaining that hopeless thought, I stood up.

Once again, Sik Jooim’s heavy footsteps echoed through the office.

His blazing golden eyes glanced toward me.

He still said nothing.

Yet somehow, it felt like he’d just said:

Let’s go.

I smiled.

My crooked grin had long since become automatic.

“Yes. Let’s go, Sik Jooim.”

Our footsteps overlapped atop a reality more bitter than coffee.

The rattling chains.

The vibrations running through the hallway.

Let’s go to the extraction chambers.

Let’s go to the containment rooms.

Let’s go to the dimensional entities.