A dark office.
Taka-taka-taka.
Someone sits alone, typing away.
Letters appear on the illuminated monitor screen.
Report (Draft)
Author : Lee Jaheon
20XX. 01. 02. Eyewitness testimonies of the clearance process of the anomalous C-grade Darkness that occurred aboard the Mokpo Express, and the (presumed) death of Supervisor Kim Soleum.
The typing continued at a steady rhythm, with no hesitation or pause, as if the timeline was already neatly arranged inside the writer's head.
Witnesses : Employee A, Employee C, Employee F (Initials assigned based on team divisions for ease of reference.)
Employee A : Are we really doing this interview again? I don't see the point. Anyway… yeah. I boarded the train for a business trip, and next thing I knew, the train itself was running over the ocean.
Employee C :
The clearance went super smoothly! Supervisor Soleum led a lot of it, and it was really nice seeing him work so hard to minimize civilian casualties! (Employee A inquired whether the anomaly was intentionally orchestrated by the company, but the Research Team stated that it was 'pure coincidence' — Further confirmation available in Interview No. 3.)
A three-person elite team successfully led the clearance of the anomalous Darkness. Collection of C-grade essence confirmed.
From this point forward, all testimonies consistently stated that the train was no longer an anomalous space but a fully real-world environment.
Employee C : Supervisor Soleum was the first to check the liquid and then said he was going to the restroom. Right, 'that' restroom.
After the train's departure, Supervisor Kim Soleum left his seat, stating, "I'm going to the restroom." No contact for 15 minutes.
At the 17-minute mark, Employee F, who had been seated in Car 3, visited the elite team's section.
Purpose of visit : 'To say goodbye', according to testimony.
Employee F :
Ah, I've mentioned this before, but… I was on vacation, sir. I got caught up in the anomaly unexpectedly, but I tried to stay calm and assist the team as best I could. It's only natural as an employee of our company.
After everything ended, I went to say goodbye to my superiors—then realized my friend—who's from the same recruitment batch as me—wasn't at his seat. So I went to look for him.
Employee C :
Oh, you were heading the wrong way at first, so I directed you to the correct way! I guess you instinctively turned toward your original seat!
Following Employee C's guidance, Employee F proceeded to the restroom. There, they found a collapsed man outside the restroom door.
Condition of the victim :
– No external bleeding
– Both hands and feet had been removed
– The severed areas were covered in fine ash
A medical professional diagnosed that the limbs appeared to have been instantly incinerated by an extremely high temperature.
( Source : Somang Medical Center [Daydream Inc. Affiliated Hospital] )
Employee F :
I had a bad feeling about it. But the restroom door was locked. No response when I knocked.
Well… not to brag, but I'm pretty handy with locks. I tried unlocking it myself… and succeeded.
…But. (Sharp inhale.)
At the 21-minute mark, the express train restroom door was unlocked.
Employee F :
The restroom was… silent.
There was no one inside. Just a perfectly clean, ordinary express train restroom. Which made it feel even more wrong. So I instinctively stepped back to leave…
And that's when things started falling out of thin air. …Along with blood.
The hands typing on the keyboard momentarily halted.
The cursor moved as the mouse navigated toward a desktop folder labeled 'Scene Photos'.
Several images were attached to the document.
Photograph of the interior of the restroom beside Car 7 of the blood-soaked express train.
The walls and floor are drenched in blood, with everything scattered haphazardly across the ground, stained red.
A mask, an employee ID, a briefcase, and… a Dream Essence Collector filled with C-grade liquid.
Yet, amidst the carnage, there was one pristine space.
A small, bathtub-shaped patch of tile—completely free of blood. As if… someone had taken it away.
Employee F :
And then, a giant hand suddenly appeared—ugh! Uuuurgh, it—it pushed me!
Flash, flash, flash, flash…
HelloThejoyofthisnightanewfaceeverydayandyourfamiliarhostGoodeveningt hisisTheLateNightTalk—
BLAAAAARGH
(Interview terminated)
Contamination and PTSD symptoms. Fox Counseling Center referral recommended. Seventh interview ended.
A testimony from the fourth interview is hereby referenced instead.
(Fourth Interview)
Employee F:
A hand appeared from thin air—a hand with a halo, no, some kind of strange light, no… no, never mind.
(Deep breath.)
It picked up a strange bathtub that had fallen onto the floor. A small bathtub with a checkered pattern and golden feet. A-And… when that happened, blood spilled across the floor, and… something— Something like a shredded black ribbon fell with it.
The hand grabbed the ribbon too. And then… on the mirror. It wrote something.
The typing hands stopped once more.
The writer reached for a printed photograph pinned to the board beside his desk.
A bathroom mirror, covered in blood, its surface serving as an inkwell for an elegant, cursive message.
Mr. Kim Soleum is working somewhere else starting today.
:)
The Research Team theorized that the message was linked to the anomalous 'Tamra Express' Darkness that had manifested on the train. (This hypothesis was considered highly credible and formally recorded in internal research logs.)
Supporting evidence include Supervisor Kim Soleum's active role in this Darkness's resolution and his unique ethical approach to clearing Darknesses, increasing the likelihood of irregular occurrences.
There is a possibility that, while on a routine business trip, he was 'invited' to a place called 'Tamra'—a yet-unknown space—where the message now hinted at his death.
Or, conversely, that Supervisor Kim Soleum had been chosen as the final sacrifice for Tamra Express.
Tak.
The writer stopped typing.
Not because he didn't know what to write next—
"Section Chief."
"Assistant Manager Eun Haje."
—but because he had a visitor.
In the dim office, Lee Jaheon lifted his head.
Standing at the door, arms crossed, was Eun Haje, her expression worn and hollow.
"You need to stop now, sir."
"...."
"How many more times are you going to conduct these interviews? Even the directors have lost interest."
Eun Haje walked into the office.
Her gaze swept over the vacant seat, as though confirming, once again, that the colleague who once sat there was truly gone.
All that remained was the sentence in the official report: Presumed deceased as of January 2nd.
"It's already been a month."
Now, standing before the desk of the now squad-less D-squad leader, she continued.
"After a month of no news, sometimes you have to know when to give up. …Writing reports isn't going to bring back the dead."
"...."
"And the Dream Essence Collector data was ultimately marked as death-confirmed."
She was right.
The Dream Essence Collector's record had confirmed the missing employee's groans and brief murmured phrases, such as, 'Is that so?' It has been meaningfully inferred that this is part of the psychotic symptoms observed in the Tamra Express, a dark anomaly that occurred during the elite team's assignment.
Statistical projections estimate that the probability of deep contamination or death for the employee in question exceeds 80%.
Additionally, per protocol, if the Dream Essence Collector is returned and no significant developments are reported within 30 days, the employee is automatically declared deceased in the system.
In other words, this matter is already settled.
"…He's already been added to today's termination list, Section Chief."
Supervisor Kim Soleum (Employment contract terminated due to death.)
…By the time it reached that stage, death was usually certain.
Assistant Manager Eun Haje rubbed her face before speaking again.
"…The company won't support this anymore. You know how it is. We don't waste money or time on the dead."
All the searches and repeated reviews had only been approved because Kim Soleum was an exceptional and talented employee.
But there were no manuals detailing what had triggered the Tamra Express Darkness, and it had not reoccurred even once in the past month.
"Is there even any point in organizing all this? Haven't you thought about stopping?"
"Yes."
"...."
Did he mean to say that there is still a point to this? Or that he did consider stopping?
"What's your reason?"
"Because Supervisor Kim Soleum is not dead."
"…!!"
Eun Haje's eyes widened.
Lee Jaheon was not the kind of person to blindly cling to hope. Which meant—he truly believed this.
And Lee Jaheon wasn't someone who believed things without reason. Which meant—he had proof.
"W-Why do you think that?!"
"There's a hint."
Lee Jaheon recalled something.
A seemingly unrelated incident from late last year.
– Please take care of this.
Before heading into the Darkness, Kim Soleum had entrusted him with something for half a day.
A small stuffed toy.
– My goodness. Are you truly entrusting me to an unimaginative blade grunt such as this? Mr. Roe Deer!
That stuffed toy, speaking in its strangely old-fashioned and eerie tone. Of course, Lee Jaheon had not responded.
He was supposed to be a well-mannered person of modern sensibilities, and thus saw no obligation to entertain a talking plushie.
However.
Something about the way it spoke felt familiar.
And then, there was the site of Kim Soleum's disappearance.
In the train restroom, all of Kim Soleum's company-related belongings had been scattered haphazardly across the floor.
Yet, Lee Jaheon's focus had not been on that.
Instead, his eyes had gone straight to the writing on the mirror. Because—he had recognized the handwriting.
"Compare these."
He pulled out the developed photograph of the mirror message and placed it alongside an old, worn-out postcard that had been carefully stored away, untouched for years.
Even retrieving this single postcard had taken weeks of authorization.
"This is…"
A remnant from a broadcast-themed Darkness that D-squad had cleared multiple times.
But in the most recent expedition, an unexpected event had resulted in an entire squad being wiped out— And thanks to the quick thinking of one employee, D-squad had barely escaped with some A-grade Dream Essence.
A Darkness so unusual that its classification was still under review, bouncing between the Research Team and the Assessment Division.
Quiz Show Application Form
To :
From :
"…Tuesday Talk Show!"
The handwriting was the exact same.
Lee Jaheon nodded.
"Supervisor Kim Soleum is there."
No matter what form he may have taken.
A studio bathed in blinding lights.
A thunderous applause erupted from the audience, rolling over the stage like a tidal wave.
[Thank you! Thank you!]
The crowd, still intoxicated by the thrill of the final segment, whistled and cheered in pure excitement.
The host pressed a dramatic hand to his chest, feigning deep emotion.
[Oh dear, with this kind of response… Haha, shall we start from the very beginning again? You are currently watching Braun's Late-Night Talk Sh— Goodness.]
WAAAAAH!
The host let out an exaggerated flinch at the overwhelming cheers—before his TV screen face returned to a grinning expression.
[Unfortunately, before the furious advertisers come storming in, we must endure a heart-wrenching farewell! But don't be too disheartened! We'll meet again tomorrow!]
The house band struck up an energetic, playful tune, signaling the end of the talk show.
The host steps to the center of the studio, bowing politely with his TV head tilted forward.
[To all our viewers who tuned in today—those watching from the depths of the underground in repentance, those sobbing in regret, and even those joining us from EPUB viewers.]
[Tomorrow at exactly 11:33 PM, we shall meet again… Have a wonderful night!]
As the band's finale swells to its peak, the host raises both hands, acknowledging the thunderous applause.
And then—
[Cut!]
The show ends.
Click.
Everything falls silent.
The audience vanishes.
The once dazzling lights blink out, leaving only a few soft overhead fixtures illuminating the now-empty seats.
Crew members flood the stage, swiftly moving to reset the set and attend to the performers.
I am among them.
Or rather—
[Mr. Soleum!]
The host is calling me over.
[Come over here. That was splendid! Your choices in themes and guest selection are truly fascinating. Every time, you pick the most fitting candidates…]
Hmm. That's a bit embarrassing.
Though, honestly—
'It's just thanks to the Dark Exploration Records.'
This talk show, 'Braun's Late-Night Talk Show,' feels almost like an entertaining rundown of Dark Exploration Records to me. The only difference is—it's far more immersive and thrilling. After all, we actually bring in residents of urban legends and ghost stories for interviews.
We brief the audience on recent supernatural events, spin humor from them, and experiment with bizarre concepts in front of a live crowd. Sometimes, a guest, still believing they're in a dream, will recklessly attempt something dangerous.
And the thrill of watching it all unfold from the sidelines, balancing on that knife's edge between terror and comedy, is exactly what makes this show work.
Plus, the audience seems to be arriving through more than just postcards these days.
All things considered… I only bring up a few interesting ghost stories once or twice a week, yet every time, they rave about how incredible my insight is.
'…This job is surprisingly easy.'
I don't think I've ever had work that felt this effortless and fun.
[Ah, this past month has been an absolute delight! And I'm thrilled to share some wonderful news with you…]
The TV face flickers with a smiling, watery-eyed expression.
[Our show has broken another viewership record.]
"…!"
[The growth curve is downright terrifying! And so, let me ask— Mr. Soleum, do you find this fun and enjoyable?]
His tone is filled with absolute confidence, yet there's the slightest hint of nervous anticipation.
Seriously.
With a smile, I nodded.
"It's fun."
[Isn't it?]
[Ah, but of course. This legendary host already knew. That this would be the most fulfilling workplace for you, Mr. Soleum.]
The TV head beams.
And I, feeling at ease, let out a small smile as well.
I am not afraid.
There is nothing here that threatens me.
I create content—I don't have to live through it!
So then, working here means I'll never have to live in constant fear again… Well, it's only natural that there's some pressure to perform well, but that's just the normal kind of stress people need to function in their daily lives, right?
This is fine.
[However, there is one thing that stands out to me. Just a moment…]
Braun rests a hand on my shoulder, leaning in.
[We're hitting a plateau. The segments are starting to feel a bit… repetitive.]
Ah.
[Don't you think it's time for something more provocative? Something bolder, Mr. Soleum? Here, in this independent, investor-free production, there are no limits. We can do whatever we want… And.]
Griiip.
…The host's grip on my shoulder tightens.
[This past month, your dedication has been astonishing. Your adaptation was swift. Your achievements were spectacular.]
[You are more than capable.]
…I should work harder.
I tried to nod, feeling slightly nervous.
But at that moment—
The host said something completely unexpected.
[So… I believe the time has come.]
[For you to stand beside me—not as crew, but as a guest.]
"…!"
[I speak with complete sincerity—you are already qualified. Oh, Mr. Soleum. My friend. Let us share stories together and bring joy to our audience.]
[A fresh face will serve as an excellent stimulant for the viewers as well.]
"…No, it's fine. I don't really enjoy standing in front of an audience—"
[Oh, now, now! Dismissing the idea so quickly wounds this Braun's heart! Let's think it over, shall we?]
His grip on my shoulder tightened once more.
[In this Braun's eyes, you have an undeniable gift for showmanship. This is the realm of natural talent.]
[Do you remember? The way you played both prophet and cult leader aboard that train over the sea? That is something only the truly gifted can do. Yes, indeed.]
[But, my very dear friend, if you're too anxious, we can start small. Just a few minutes—no, just a few seconds on stage.]
[Why not consider it more casually?]
...
That doesn't seem so bad, does it?
Now that I think about it, I never really thought I couldn't do it.
'If you work, you should aim for results.'
In the end, feeling a little self-conscious, I nodded.
"…Alright. If it's just a small role."
[That's the spirit! Excellent.]
The TV head beamed.
[And so humble, too—just as expected from my show's MVP. Isn't that right?]
[Since you joined our talk show, there hasn't been a single dull day!]
Come to think of it, has it really been a month already?
Time had passed without me even realizing it.
Busy, fun, fulfilling.
'Even the staff are surprisingly kind.'
I gave a small nod of thanks to a coordinator who handed me a bottle of water before disappearing, then—without much thought—asked Braun a question.
"By the way, why do all the staff here have no faces?"
[Ah, that's a sign of their deep consideration for the show. They chose it themselves to prevent unexpected sounds—sneezes, coughs, or any unintended noises—from disrupting a live broadcast.]
"…That's some serious professionalism. Um, then, do I… need to lose my face, too—"
[What nonsense, Mr. Soleum?!]
Whoa.
[For those who step onto the stage, expression and presence are essential! Expressiveness is the heart of entertainment!]
[Ah, of course, if you truly insist… there is an alternative. Just a moment.]
Tak.
The host grabbed my chin.
And examined me, as if calculating something…
[Hmm. Of course, removing your face is an option. However, I'd rather craft you a most exquisite… mask instead.]
That's…
...
"I'll think about it some other time."
[Right? Hah! It would be a shame to lose such a fine face.]
The host let go.
As I watched Braun's beaming smile, I found myself smiling as well.
[Ah, I must prepare for the next broadcast. Let's see… Oh, today's audience is… office workers! We must bring them some well-earned joy.]
[So… Mr. Soleum, will you be stepping onto the stage tonight?]
"I'll do my best."
[Splendid. Absolutely splendid…. It shall be a magnificent debut, Mr. Soleum!]
Mm-hmm. That would be great.