Editor’s Survival Guide - Chapter 124

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Survival Rules for an Editor, Chapter 124

ep18. Rescuer (8)
One hour ago.
Kim Ji-an spoke to me in the cafe.
“The upper department is discussing what to do about Lee Sol.”
It was just one sentence, but it raised several questions.
So I asked them in order.
“Which upper department are you talking about?”
“The department that oversees the Management Bureau. The one that sets the Bureau’s direction.”
She was talking about the government ministry that received reports on the Management Bureau’s performance—the place that occasionally summoned Manager Kwon.
“What do you mean by ‘doing something about Lee Sol’?”
“It means the Management Bureau can’t keep her contained anymore, so they’re looking for other methods.”
“Other methods?”
At my follow-up question, Kim Ji-an nodded heavily.
“Contaminated Persons have only two options. They’re either contained in the Management Bureau, or they live in the Special Zone. Except for a tiny minority with confirmed safety records, they can’t return to society.”
It wasn’t hard to understand.
I knew well enough the danger that Contaminated Persons posed.
But being isolated from society for life simply because you’re contaminated—being stripped of your past life and future—seemed cruelly harsh for any individual.
“Why is this discussion happening at all? Can’t they just protect her the way they do now?”
The way they did with Ryu Dan-a.
Or the way minors had been protected during the Page era.
An hour ago, I knew nothing of Lee Sol’s condition.
So I asked without focus, and Kim Ji-an, sensing my misunderstanding, explained again.
“Lee Sol’s danger level is steadily increasing. To the point where the Management Bureau is having difficulty continuing to protect her. It’s been under discussion for a while now, but a new problem emerged recently, and it seems a decision has been made.”
“A new problem?”
“Agent Cha Si-eon made an unauthorized entry into the Train Station last week.”
“……?”
“The upper department took that very seriously. So they’ve decided they can’t leave things as they are anymore.”
“Surely they don’t think that was because of Lee Sol?”
“Yes. The Team Leader—Agent Cha Si-eon—said he followed all the restricted protocols for Blind Agents. So the only one left to suspect is Lee Sol. And since she’s been identified as a factor in the unauthorized Train Station entry, they’ve decided they can’t let her remain.”
So the previous discussion became more severe?
And that conclusion is to exile a fifteen-year-old to the Special Zone?
Of course, I couldn’t say I didn’t understand.
Because if the Management Bureau people get dragged into the Train Station, it’s essentially death.
“Even so, sending a child alone to the Special Zone is basically condemning her to death.”
“…….”
“Is there anywhere in the Special Zone she could even live?”
I asked because I genuinely wanted to know.
The Type 2 Special Zone—the only place humans could navigate.
I wondered if there was even a shelter there for Contaminated Persons.
At my words, Kim Ji-an looked at me.
Her eyes seemed sad for some reason, and I felt oddly flustered, while Kim Ji-an lowered her gaze and answered.
“Lee Sol won’t be sent to the Special Zone.”
“Then is there another alternative?”
“Not exactly an alternative—they’re discussing measures. She’s dangerous even while contained in the Management Bureau, and even more dangerous if released to the Special Zone. The upper department will never choose to place a new Hazardous Entity in the Zone.”
“…….”
“So what’s being discussed now is… a humanitarian death for Lee Sol.”
Only then did I understand.
The desperation of Kim Ji-an who came to find me.
The system of the Management Bureau that operated outside my view.
Kim Ji-an said something else to me, but I barely heard it.
My head was already so full of what I’d just learned that there was no room for anything else.

“Earlier.”
After a long silence, I finally managed to speak.
“You said they’d place a new Hazardous Entity.”
“Yes.”
“Could the Hazardous Entity actually be a contaminated person?”
“Not all entities in the Special Zone are like that.”
“…….”
“But some of them were originally human.”
I received this simple confirmation only now.
And from someone outside the Management Bureau—a former employee.
It felt like waking up after being trapped in a narrow pen.
I hadn’t even known I was trapped until I accidentally climbed over that fence.
As I felt a strange exhaustion—neither relief nor betrayal—I asked Kim Ji-an again.
“So Lee Sol’s father is in the Train Station right now?”
“Nothing’s been confirmed yet.”
Kim Ji-an answered in an even more subdued voice.
Then she added this:
“But everyone assumes he is. That he probably is.”
* * *
And now.
Standing before the Contamination Containment Facility where Contaminated Person No. 146 was held, I was helplessly understanding what Kim Ji-an had said.
That’s right—everyone must be assuming it.
Watching that girl’s face, they can easily confirm where her father is trapped.
But no one can bring themselves to say it aloud.
Carefully. And cowardly.
Thanks to that, I could live well.
Following Lee Seob’s precedent, I could remain completely ignorant of the predicament of that father and daughter—which might also be my future.
That’s why I could play in the sea without thinking and meet the Author.
If anything, I had things to be grateful for.
In reality, I wasn’t grateful at all.
I forced myself to look away from Lee Sol, who was sleeping miserably.
Then I turned to look beside me.
A short distance away, Cha Si-eon was standing.
And he was already looking at me.
As if waiting for me to say something.
It was an incomprehensible attitude.
Saying nothing yourself, yet expecting others to speak.
That wasn’t fair.
So I swallowed my words.
Choosing silence that way, I left that place.
* * *
The next morning.
I was called to Manager Kwon’s office.
The man with the face of a kind person made me sit across from him and said nothing for a while.
I was the same, and silence flowed between us.
After a long and short silence, it was Kwon who spoke first.
“I thought you’d ask all sorts of questions.”
Kwon muttered, sounding perplexed.
I nodded once to indicate agreement.
Kwon swallowed as if the taste in his mouth was bitter.
Then he added in a quiet voice:
“I’m sorry for hiding things until now. You’re not completely uninvolved in this either.”
“Not at all. The decision isn’t one I don’t understand, and knowing it doesn’t change anything anyway.”
“…….”
“But going forward, I’d appreciate it if you’d think about the issue of trust. We’ve had this conversation before.”
I communicated my position without rudeness.
Kwon nodded quietly.
This is all I have to say right now.
Regarding Lee Sol, I don’t think these people need to worry about what I think.
Contamination and how to handle it—these people are the experts, and I’m still an outsider.
Dealing with and taking responsibility for that problem is the job of Cha Si-eon and Kwon, not something I should meddle in.
Moreover, to me, Lee Sol is practically a stranger.
Lee Sol might be grateful to me, but there’s no reason I should have special feelings for her.
Strictly speaking, she’s “your Lee Sol,” but to me she’s just a middle school student I saved once, whose name I know.
Nothing more, nothing less.
So there’s no need for these people to tiptoe around me as if they’re guilty.
“You don’t need to worry about anything else. Acting Director Oh also does his best to let things slide when he can.”
I spoke in my usual tone.
But Kwon still looked uneasy.
Should I try to reassure him that everything’s really fine?
As I simply sat there, Kwon spoke in a somber voice.
“Like I said before, Seo Do-un has a lot to thank you for.”
Probably so.
“So I really do hope things go well for you.”
Those words were probably sincere too.
I know.
Kwon cares for his people.
Calls them family and values them genuinely, without pretense.
And I’m loosely counted among them too.
So I asked Kwon:
“I heard the discussion about Lee Sol is nearly finished.”
“…….”
“Which side are you on, Manager?”
Kwon didn’t answer.
That was the answer.
So I had to pause a moment to keep from smiling bitterly.
Lee Sol is dangerous, and growing more dangerous.
That’s why Cha Si-eon nearly died.
If I hadn’t luckily been a variable that worked, he probably would have died.
Leaving this danger unattended is neglecting a manager’s duty.
So Kwon’s choice wasn’t wrong.
From his position, this is the right answer, and there’s no other way now.
Of course, I could imagine things.
Following the precedent of Ant Hill, what might happen if we stopped the Train Station.
But that’s only a guess.
If we pushed ahead regardless, Cha Si-eon would have to conduct a life-or-death operation with the prisoners.
Say we manage to avoid the siren’s wail a lucky few times.
As far as I know, the core of the Train Station hasn’t been located yet.
It’s likely in the body of the main Hazardous Entity, like the National Central Museum.
But that’s also just a guess.
If we’re to act on faith regardless, we’d have to consider the durability of the main Hazardous Entity there—the Giant Siren.
The Fake God was certainly tough.
But what about the Giant Siren?
Of course, there’s a chance it could be soft.
Lucky, even. But that’s also speculation.
All of it is speculation—wild fantasy born from desperate hope—and even if we’re lucky enough to find the core’s location, then what?
The siren will keep wailing. Do we send me in again on another roll of the dice?
If there’s a decision-maker willing to authorize such madness, I wouldn’t follow them either.
In that respect, Kwon was mercifully a rational manager.
So his kindness was also thoroughly rational.
Kwon truly wishes for my wellbeing, but if I became a monster, he would make a rational judgment then too.
The way he’s doing now for Lee Sol.
But there’s no helping it.
So I bowed to Kwon in acknowledgment.
Then I stood up.
* * *
As I crossed the corridor, I spoke to myself.
This is unavoidable.
What’s unavoidable must be accepted.
If I can’t change the situation, I must change myself.
Better to see it as a stroke of luck.
Came to my senses before getting too attached.
Confirmed this group’s nature and my position in it.
So take it in a good light.
……Same old story.
I stopped walking down the corridor.
“Sigh……”
Saying nothing yourself while expecting others to speak—that’s not fair.
So I was only trying to be fair.
But let me think about it differently.
Is it really fair for an editor to exchange words just like these linguistically clumsy people?
There was no need to think long.
I turned back and headed toward Manager Kwon’s office.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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