My Pop Socket.
It was the final button component for the dream incubator.
The main button, equivalent to a Wish Ticket.
"..."
I stared at it blankly.
The lit-up button glowed faintly, as if tempting me.
I unconsciously reached my hand toward it….
"Agent Grapes!!"
"…!!"
I snatched my hand back.
Beside me, Agent Choi grabbed my arm, and with his other hand, he switched off the power connected to the device and pulled out the plug.
"You said it yourself. To pull the plug immediately if something went wrong."
"...Thank you."
"What was that just now?"
I looked at the unlit button, then muttered as if in a daze.
"I don't know."
But.
"It seems I was carrying the most important component of this machine."
"..."
Agent Choi's pupils dilated as he observed the button I had completed.
"A Memorial Pop Socket."
"..."
"But the color is…."
I hesitated for a moment before speaking.
"It's not a Memorial Pop Socket."
"What?"
"The shape and function are clearly that of a Memorial Pop Socket, so I thought it was the same thing, but I was told it isn't."
"By whom?"
"By the elder."
"…!"
–This one is an even more precious object. It just seems to have mimicked an item from our workshop.
"…I heard that something more valuable seems to have mimicked a Memorial Pop Socket."
And this Pop Socket's original function was the Wish Ticket button for the Cheerful Research Institute.
I stared at the Pop Socket, still in its place as a button, then reflexively lifted my head.
The notepad that wasn't visible now, but would appear and hover by my head when activated.
The trace of the
[Dark Exploration Record Merch Box]
-Usage rights for new merchandise unlocked!
The Pop Socket was one of the first-prize items I had won at the pop-up store.
An item inside the Real Goods Box.
'But why is it… the button for the Cheerful Research Institute's dream incubator?'
My head was throbbing.
To organize my own thoughts, I first explained what the elder who had fixed my broken Pop Socket had said.
Including the fact that he had regarded the object with wonder, not aversion.
"..."
Listening to my story, Agent Choi's eyes deepened as if lost in thought.
"So you're trying to claim… that it's not a Corrupt object?"
"It's less of a claim and more me just telling you what I experienced."
"…Right."
Agent Choi sat on the floor, the power cord still in his hand. He then brushed the ash from the spot in front of him and patted it.
"Seems like we have a lot to talk about."
....
"Grapes-ie. So where did you get that thing?"
"You wouldn't believe me."
"Really? I'll give it a listen anyway. I'm a good listener, you know? That's another virtue of an ace agent."
I looked at Agent Choi's grinning face and eventually sat down across from him.
And I opened my mouth on impulse.
"I came from another world."
He stopped breathing.
* * *
…I had, at some point, imagined myself honestly confessing my circumstances to someone.
But I couldn't say it, because I was sure I'd be treated like a crazy person, or get the Ghost Story Worldview treatment.
So it was strange.
The fact that I was saying this with my own mouth.
…It's a relief, and it's strange.
But it wasn't a thoughtless decision.
"..."
I looked at Agent Choi.
…Given his disposition, there were surely things he hadn't told me, more information and situations he was hiding.
'To get that, I have to state my own premise.'
If I only hid things, I, who was already suspicious, would only seem more so. We would just keep doubting each other, never showing our hands.
That wouldn't do anymore.
'Because a new clue has appeared.'
At this stage, I needed any and all information and reasoning. I wanted to talk to someone and hear their opinion.
So if I wanted information, I had to offer my own.
…In a way that could earn Agent Choi's trust as much as possible.
"…Do you remember the cases from the supernatural disaster 'Sparkling Dragon Palace' where the children's identities couldn't be confirmed?"
"…I remember."
The children who named countries that didn't exist on Earth, had slightly different physical characteristics, or gave addresses that didn't exist in reality.
"Those children weren't 'citizens' of this place."
"..."
"I'm similar."
A missing person caught up in a ghost story.
"I came from a different reality, not this one. …From a Seoul Special City that's almost the same, but with a few minor differences."
I didn't say, 'I came from a world without ghost stories.'
I remembered Agent Choi's reaction, as if he were looking at a cultist. It would only diminish the credibility of the conversation.
'But ghost stories related to parallel worlds were already registered in the
So this much should be a plausible enough explanation.
And so I let it all pour out.
That I'd opened my eyes and was at the Daydream new employee orientation, and that I had been given a few pieces of equipment.
"..."
Agent Choi silently looked down at the ash-covered floor, remaining silent for a long while.
Soon, a thankfully calm voice was heard.
"So, you're saying you think you were dropped here after being caught up in a supernatural disaster? The world suddenly changed, and you got some equipment."
"…Yes."
"So…"
A sharp intake of breath.
"So… your wish was to go home."
"..."
I forced a smile and replied.
"But I couldn't."
"..."
"Just as Agent Bronze said, a Wish Ticket couldn't do it."
"Grapes-ie."
"But I never thought I'd find another hint from this machine. …A hint that might let me guess why I was summoned here."
I looked again at the powered-down machine.
At the 'Wish Ticket' button, to be precise, which had been completed with my Pop Socket.
"..."
The adhesive part left on my Smartphone couldn't function as a 'Memorial Pop Socket.'
It meant that to read the
'…So someone detached the dream incubator's button, processed it into a Memorial Pop Socket… and that was given as the first-prize item at the pop-up store.'
For the person who would be summoned into the
…Or for the person who would be summoned out from the 'world without ghost stories' created in the dream incubator.
'Which one is it?'
What hint are they trying to give me?
What do they want from me?
Something seems to be taking shape, but it's not clear yet. It's just that….
"I just think this Cheerful Research Institute might have done something."
"You think this institute is what brought you here?"
"Based on the circumstances, that's what I'm guessing."
In fact, I was almost certain.
Because I had woken up in this incubator.
"That's why I want to know more about this dream incubator. Not just to rescue people from Segwang Metropolitan City… but because, frankly, it seems to be related to me, too."
"..."
"That's all."
Agent Choi sat quietly, without a word.
His eyes shifted between the dream incubator and me, and the fingers of the hand gripping the hilt of his Executioner's Sword twitched as if in thought….
Then he opened his mouth.
"Grapes-ie."
I looked at him, tense.
"That underground laboratory, I actually turned it upside down after you disappeared."
"..."
"…And I found something."
What?
"Some kind of…."
"But I want you to promise me one thing."
Agent Choi's piercing gaze met mine.
"You can't pass this information on to Daydream, that company. Got it?"
"...Agent Choi."
I wrestled with myself, then finally let out a sigh and spoke.
"I'm under an employment contract with Daydream. Permanently, forever."
"…!"
Agent Choi must be remembering it too.
The sight of 130666 in a Security Team uniform.
It was a choice I had to make to survive, but the result wasn't pleasant.
"As 130666, if Daydream demands something for the company's benefit, I probably won't be able to refuse. So… I might not be able to keep that promise."
"..."
"But, I still want to hear it."
Agent Choi, who was looking at me as if he'd been sucker-punched, replied.
"Okay."
Then he gave a bitter smile.
"…Did you think that if you were honest, I'd take pity on you and just spill everything?"
"To some extent."
"That's amazing, really..."
Agent Choi took something out from his pocket.
"...Because you're right."
It was a folded piece of paper.
"I restored and transcribed a document that was labeled 'experiment log.' It was caked in gunk, so it's only a few pages."
"...!"
"This must be it. It was in the place you found, after all. Here."
Agent Choi added, "I grabbed it when I was packing up the incubator earlier," and handed it to me.
I took it.
[Oh, just as the saying goes that every cloud has a silver lining, my friend, the crisis of being discovered by that civil servant who snuck into the dusty lab that day was not all bad, was it?]
[For you have returned like this!]
Braun's applause rang in my head like tinnitus.
With trembling hands, I unfolded the document.
It was….
That contract!!
It was an indictment of Daydream.
No, it was a document that looked as if resentment had turned into letters and been carved onto the page.
I should not have signed the contract presented by the pharmaceutical company executive. Because of that ■■, our research was helplessly taken over.
They stole the dream incubator's ■■. Their promise to become our supply source for the ■-liquid was dismissed as a cheap play on words, a promise to fill the dream incubator with liquid.
So….
'Did Daydream originally approach the Cheerful Research Institute saying they'd supply the Dream Essence Liquid, only to backstab them by stealing the dream incubator that makes the potions?'
It was a very Daydream-like thing to do.
The next part seemed to be similarly filled with curses aimed at Daydream, but then a calmer section appeared.
We left the institute's Main Building and set up a separate lab. Here, we will find the pharmaceutical company's weakness.
Next, it summarized how they, based on Daydream's potions, had used the dream incubator as a simple potion-producing machine.
Many words and sentences were deleted as blank spaces, likely because they were too damaged to be read.
And as my eyes scanned what little was legible….
This caught my eye.
Confirmation of a counterfeit of the Ch■■■■■'s Para■■■ Syrup among the potions produced by the pharmaceutical company.
Name: W■■■ T■■■■■.
"…!"
It was censored, but I could read it.
'Wish Ticket.'
The Children's Paradise Syrup was indeed the original.
Presumed to be a degraded version, with the incubator's incubation function deleted and the required liquid concentration for production arbitrarily lowered.
Degradation examples:
Verbalized sentence expression required.
Deterioration of world-line ■■ function.
Compromised wish fulfillment, not the ■■ of paradise.
That was all the information I could read.
"..."
"How is it?"
I lifted my head.
Agent Choi looked at the paper I was holding and spoke as if making a joke.
"It's a total exposé of a big corporation's dark side, right? If the Disaster Management Bureau wasn't just the Ministry of Environment, I would've..., …Grapes-ie?"
I snatched the power cord from Agent Choi's hand.
And plugged it back in.
"You…!"
"Just a second!"
I looked again at the buttons of the dream incubator as they lit up.
My head was pounding, and the sound of my heart throbbed in my ears.
'I get it.'
I still remember.
No, I can't forget.
Reading the words written on the bottle on the day I drank the Wish Ticket.
The instructions for the Wish Ticket.
Lift the bottle with both hands.
After expressing your earnest wish in a single sentence…
Close your eyes and consume the liquid in the bottle all at once.
Any wish will be granted.
A single sentence.
The instruction was to make a wish in one precise sentence.
But.
According to this document….
Degradation examples:
Verbalized sentence expression required.
That was a side effect created by Daydream's manufacturing.
If that's the case.
Then in the original Cheerful Research Institute version of the 'Wish Ticket'… the condition to 'make a wish in a single sentence' didn't exist in the first place.
You mean a wish you desire deep in your heart could be granted even if it wasn't verbalized?
Then,
If so....
"Grapes-ie."
I can go back.
If I want to go home, I can go back.
There's no need to agonize over a sentence. If all I have to do is want it desperately, if I want to go back home….
The Cheerful Research Institute's Wish Ticket, the 'Children's Paradise Syrup,' will send me home.
To a world without ghost stories.
To the place I was originally from.
…In my original form!
I looked down at my hands. I could see human hands. Something I wouldn't be able to see if I returned to reality. Not that melted, amorphous, bizarre form or the lizard's body I received as a component, but I could return to my original body and go home.
A sense of relief that made my brain tingle surged through me just from the thought.
Nothing else mattered. Whatever the truth of the world was, why I was here, none of it matter….
"Calm down."
"…!"
I blinked.
Agent Choi was holding my shoulders, pinning me to the floor.
"Breathe in, then out. Now!"
I did as he said.
I take a deep breath….
....
"Agent Choi."
"..."
"I'm calm now."
Agent Choi was tense, watching to see if I'd do anything rash.
But I turned my gaze back to the dream incubator to check.
The liquid indicator.
DE 00000000
The number went up when I filled this tank with Dream Essence Liquid.
About 150,000 points when I put in A-grade concentration Dream Essence Liquid.
'And the other emoticon buttons consumed about 10,000 to 20,000 points.'
If that was C-grade, then the value for an EX-grade potion, equivalent to a Wish Ticket, is….
'Wait a minute.'
I shot up and pressed the lit-up Wish Ticket button.
"…!"
"It's fine. Nothing will happen since there's no liquid any…."
Right.
But something else is displayed instead.
'The amount of liquid needed.'
It's displayed in red at the bottom. It's….
DE 05000000
…Five million points?
My mind goes blank.
'An A-grade liquid was 150,000 points.'
How in the world am I supposed to fill five million….
'No!'
I can fill it. Why can't I? Can't I just clear A-grade thirty or forty times? It's not impossible. I can do it.
Right, just clearing the Segwang Special City Subway station, I mean, Hanbit Library, got me close to an A-grade before.
So if I calmly take my time....
....
Or…
'If not that.'
There is a way to fill it all at once.
The thing that exists outside that subway station I just thought of.
A massive ghost story.
For instance… something like an Extinction-class supernatural disaster that swallowed a whole city.
And I know.
That if you properly resolve a ghost story instead of simply escaping it, a much higher concentration of Dream Essence Liquid is extracted.
"..."
So.
If I bring the Segwang Metropolitan City ghost story to an end, I can go home.