Chapter 58: The Rumblings of a Storm

Chapter 58: The Rumblings of a Storm

I too...

‘...What is this...’

The woman who was once called “Jeonghee” felt a strange feeling as she looked at what was unfolding in front of her.

In the dark room, several holograms floated around like hanging picture frames, their ethereal glow casting eerie shadows on the walls.

They showed people wearing ridiculous masks, just like the “someone” sitting in front of her, their features obscured behind grotesque facades.

All of them were hiding their identities behind masks, their true selves concealed from view.

Perhaps even those she knew were hiding their identities beneath those masks, their familiar faces replaced by inscrutable disguises.

As she watched, a strange thought came to the woman’s mind, unbidden and unsettling.

‘...If I just disappear like this, no one will know, right?’

It was questionable how everyone, including herself, could be tied together under the name “Twilight’s Call” when they couldn’t even trust each other and were hiding their faces, their bonds as fragile as the masks they wore.

Were they even tied together in the first place, or were they merely strangers playing at unity?

While she was grateful that they helped her revenge... it didn’t seem like the future would be very bright if things continued this way, the path ahead shrouded in uncertainty and doubt.

‘...This is probably why they’ve been quietly hiding until now.’

She, too, had other intentions behind her mask, her true motives concealed behind a facade of compliance.

A ridiculous voice echoed, jarring in the hushed atmosphere of the room.

It was something she had to focus on, so she pricked up her ears and concentrated, straining to hear every word.

“Did we decide to release the Sky Whale this time?”

“We need at least that much to attract attention, right? Puhaha.”

...The Sky Whale.

A few years ago, it was reported to have vanished after its observation was cut off, but could it be that they had secured it here, hidden away from prying eyes?

More than that,

Not only was she surprised by the thought of releasing such a thing, but she also felt a sense of incongruity in the way they talked about the anomaly called the “Sky Whale” as if it were their property, a mere tool to be used as they saw fit.

From what she had heard, Twilight’s Call was an organization that sought the freedom of anomalies... something like that, so there seemed to be some contradiction in their words, their actions belying their supposed ideals.

Why on earth were these people trying to use anomalies as they pleased, treating them as a means to an end rather than beings deserving of respect?

If the rumors were true... rather than suppressing and exploiting the Sky Whale—

...Right, it wouldn’t be incomprehensible to think that they were protecting it from being suppressed elsewhere, keeping it safe from those who would do it harm.

But,

“But... is that slime-like girl really as important as they say she is? No matter how I think about it, it doesn’t seem to add up.”

“Hmm... Didn’t you read the data I sent? That slime has infinite possibilities. Above all, she’s cute.”

“Well... if that’s all true, then sure, but it’s all speculation, isn’t it?”

What was this perspective that seemed to view anomalies as mere objects, things to be studied and exploited rather than beings with their own agency?

The place she originally belonged to was no different from here, but at least... they didn’t treat them like pawns in chess, like tools to be used and discarded at will.

Secure, isolate, protect, and observe.

Just what are these people thinking?

“I’m looking forward to seeing if this can be cleaned up, too. They seemed to have covered it up well this time.”

“It felt refreshing to see that thing those greedy bastards made go through the process of closing down, heh.”

“It’s a shame we weren’t there to see it.”

How were they any different from the director of the lab she was in, their motives just as selfish and callous?

If the director moved for his own greed and wealth,

These people seemed to be moving with an even more abstract malice, their intentions inscrutable and sinister.

Perhaps they were even worse than the director, their cruelty hidden behind a veneer of righteousness.

However, the woman who was once called “Jeonghee,” listening to their conversation, felt a strange sense of kinship, a twisted camaraderie born of shared resentment.

Because whenever they talked about the organization she belonged to, they united in their enthusiasm, their hatred burning bright.

...Just like herself.

Feeling the atmosphere that seemed to be filled with deep resentment, the woman who was once called “Jeonghee” finally realized why Twilight’s Call had approached her, their true motives becoming clear.

They may not have been people who gathered for the liberation and freedom of anomalies. Their cause is nothing more than a convenient lie.

Not only anomalies leaking from the research center,

But also an anomaly that was being transported going on a rampage, and an incident of an anomaly being kidnapped, the situation spiraling out of control.

The involved director also went missing, vanishing without a trace.

A new anomaly was also isolated, its presence adding to the growing chaos.

And an anomaly that was thought to be safe had an incident, leading to a literal disaster, the consequences far-reaching and devastating.

They somehow resolved it, but...

...Strangely, there were too many things happening, the coincidences piling up in an unsettling way.

To the point where she missed the days when she only did research, the simplicity of the past a distant memory.

‘When are they going to send the new research center director?’

They wouldn’t put me in the director’s position like this... right?

Feeling anxious, Han Seori cleared her throat and spoke, her voice wavering slightly.

“...The cover-up that Twilight’s... ahem, ahem... Twilight’s Call is talking about... is probably referring to the recent Soylent Purple Co. incident, right?”

“That’s right. It’s the only recent incident related to our branch research center.”

This is turning into a real mess, the situation spiraling out of control.

...Should we hold an exorcism or something, a desperate attempt to ward off the growing chaos?

With the oncoming headache, Han Seori sighed and said in a low voice, her frustration evident.

“...Does anyone have any idea what they’re trying to pull?”

“If we knew, we wouldn’t be sitting here like this.”

“Let’s catch them this time and uproot them.”

Isn’t that why we’re in this situation...?

In the end, the meeting wasn’t very fruitful. The discussions went around in circles.

Rather than proposing a fundamental solution, they only exchanged perfunctory words, their efforts feeling futile.

From the beginning, it could be known that they wanted something different from the fact that they weren’t doing anything abruptly. Their actions were calculated and deliberate.

But since they didn’t know what they wanted, it was frustrating, and the lack of information was maddening.

But they couldn’t ignore the decreasing timer either, the countdown to an unknown fate ticking away.

“Still, it’s a relief that the situation has been taken care of. It would be best to dispatch agents and see if there are any clues, right?”

“The possibility is low, but it’s better than doing nothing.”

“I don’t know why they’re doing this all of a sudden when they’ve been quiet.”

Han Seori nodded in agreement, her expression grim.

The fact that it only became known through hearsay meant that they had not revealed themselves in this way until now, their sudden appearance all the more unsettling.

At least because of what happened today, everyone in the branches and research centers will be talking about Twilight’s Call for a while, the news spreading like a virus.

Why are they doing this? Are their motives a mystery?

What do they want? Are their desires as enigmatic as their identities?

In the end, Han Seori’s concerns were not resolved, and the meeting ended with a hollow echo, the questions left unanswered.

Han Seori spoke to Yoo Kangjik, who was silently looking at her, his gaze intense and probing.

“...For now, let’s focus on internal control.”

“That would be best.”

Seeing Yoo Kangjik leave, Han Seori sank into her chair and manipulated the panel, the screen flickering to life.

Soon, the slime girl watching TV appeared on the monitor, her expression one of blissful ignorance.

Seeing the leisurely sight of her watching TV together, Han Seori let out a sigh of envy, the weight of responsibility momentarily lifted from her shoulders.

‘...I’m jealous.’

I wish I could live without any worries like that, too, free from the burdens of leadership and the looming threat of the unknown.

Han Seori smiled bitterly as she looked at that cute sight, the innocence of the slime girl a stark contrast to the dark machinations at play.

‘I must be really tired too.’

Leaving the video of the isolation room where the slime girl was isolated on the monitor, Han Seori felt fatigued and leaned back in her chair, her body heavy with exhaustion.

Day by day passes, each one feeling like the ominous calm before a brewing storm.