Editor’s Survival Guide - Chapter 146

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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, Episode 146

ep20. An Editor’s Checklist (3)

Is a steady heart rate grounds for interrogating someone’s sanity?
No.
If someone was agitated in the recent past, must they maintain the same reaction today?
No.
Is it reasonable for someone who once complained about another’s loud heartbeat to suddenly take issue with their silence?
No.
Three strikes, all no.
Therefore, this situation defies logic.
Yet why can I mount no protest whatsoever?
Far from protesting, I’d somehow been dragged out to the terrace and found myself gauging the atmosphere with uncharacteristic carefulness.
I’m not usually the type to do that kind of thing…….
It took a moment.
Finally, Cha Si-eon—who had been sitting in weighty silence—spoke.
“Do you find nothing unusual about your own situation or state of mind, Seo Do-un?”
His voice remained grave.
But I couldn’t seem to grasp the context of any of this.
His checking my heart rate by just grabbing my foot and throwing me against the wall—I could write that off as purposeful rudeness, something Cha Si-eon did as casually as eating breakfast.
But what was this mood, and what was this question?
“Before that—what exactly are you doing right now, Team Leader?”
“What do you mean, asking me that?”
“I’m asking what kind of situation this is. Whether it’s a grievance consultation like before, or a post-incident debrief.”
“Neither. It’s a fact-check.”
“And why are you fact-checking? Is this concern, or suspicion?”
“What’s the difference between the two?”
“Concern asks after your wellbeing and stops there. Suspicion involves follow-up action.”
Cha Si-eon paused to consider my answer before responding.
“Seven to three.”
“Seven suspicion, three concern?”
I pressed him, surprised that concern rated even three percent.
Cha Si-eon corrected my misunderstanding.
“Seven suspicion, three obligation.”
Well, that’s more what I’d expect.
I confirmed that Cha Si-eon was indeed in his right mind and answered with relief.
“I’m in my right mind.”
“Are you certain?”
“What exactly are you suspecting……. No, before that—what’s the difference between concern and obligation?”
“Concern only asks about your wellbeing, but obligation requires understanding the full circumstances before it ends.”
So he was telling me to come up with an answer that would satisfy him.
I shot him a weary look, but Cha Si-eon didn’t seem to mind.
If anything, he pressed me with an even more austere demeanor.
“Even last week, when dealing with matters of Contamination, you reacted with gravity.”
“Last week?”
“When you saw Lee Sol.”
“Who wouldn’t be startled seeing something like that…….”
I listened quietly for a moment before responding in exasperation.
And wasn’t I shocked by more than just Lee Sol back then?
I thought she’d gone home, but she’d been trapped in the basement of my own building the whole time—and I was the only one who didn’t know about it.
The bewilderment of that moment came flooding back, and my chest tightened again.
But Cha Si-eon didn’t bother clarifying and continued.
“You showed heightened awareness of Contamination before and after your interview with Contaminated Person 71, and when you saw Lee Sol last week, you were severely distressed. Yet today, you casually mentioned the possibility of undergoing transformation yourself.”
Laid out like that, Cha Si-eon’s suspicion seemed to have its own logic.
I’ve said that becoming a monster terrifies me.
It’s true that seeing the Contaminated Lee Sol sent me into something close to panic, and Cha Si-eon detected it through my heartbeat.
But today, when Oh Tae-o threw a blunt question at me, I accepted it without any visible alarm.
Cha Si-eon must have suspected a device malfunction and decided to test it by tripping me.
Hah—if anyone’s lost their mind, it’s obviously me.
Finally, the context connected. But it brought me no relief.
It was Cha Si-eon’s persistent gravity that unsettled me.
“I cannot reconcile this attitude with reason. I’d like you to examine your own state of mind as well.”
Surely he wasn’t going to pick that much of a fight over just a heartbeat reading?
Or did he genuinely believe I’d been Contaminated in some way he couldn’t detect?
Maybe he was running a pre-operation check before the Train Station operation.
That seemed most likely.
This operation would be truly dangerous if variables arose.
Viewing it that way, I understood his seriousness, but…….
“I already told you I’m in my right mind. What is it you keep asking me to judge?”
There was no way I’d be happy having my mental state questioned out of nowhere like this.
But Cha Si-eon didn’t stop his interrogation and spoke to me again.
“Check whether those are truly your own thoughts, or whether perhaps you’ve lost your rationality without even knowing it.”
“No…….”
I started to object with a sigh, but something about his phrasing felt familiar, and I looked at him.
Then, suddenly, I remembered what we’d said to each other in this very spot not long ago.

—What exactly does it mean to lose one’s rationality?
—Your thinking becomes warped, your reason clouded, and you act wrongly—without even realizing you’re doing something wrong.
—Is that your definition of a monster?
—Yes. That’s my standard for what a monster is.
—Then I’ll help you keep your wits about you.

……Could that three percent obligation be this?
I looked at Cha Si-eon with mixed feelings.
I think it is.
It really does seem to be.
I mean, I did tell him to do that back then.
But I thought it was just a polite formality. I never expected him to actually follow through with this kind of interrogation…….
And besides, if I really do start acting strange, what’s he going to do to snap me back to reality?
He can only use force.
Suddenly, I remembered something Cha Si-eon had said in the manager’s office earlier.

—I’ll make sure you can rest.

……Now I understood.
It seemed Cha Si-eon’s gravity included the context of Lee Seob and Lee Sol as well.
After being suspicious of Lee Seob and Lee Sol, now it was Seo Do-un.
“Hah…….”
I grasped the situation at last and let out a sigh.
Then I wiped the exhaustion from my face and spoke with clarity.
“I am still rational.”
“…….”
“And while you say my attitude doesn’t make sense to you, there was actually a perfectly rational process behind it. So you don’t need to worry.”
“What rational process?”
“I resolved my internal conflict and adapted to the situation.”
After I’d given my best answer, Cha Si-eon’s expression said he didn’t follow.
Even when I try to explain nicely…….
But since he still looked serious, I decided to be a bit more patient.
“I’ve already done plenty of worrying and catastrophizing, so I’ve decided to stop. Clinging to those feelings won’t solve anything anyway. Plus, as long as I’m here, I’ll hear about Contamination almost every day, and it’s wasteful to react to each mention individually.”
Unless this were some sadistic novel that laid bare the slow crumbling of a character.
Repeating the same anguish endlessly was clearly wasteful.
In fiction, it wastes pages; in reality, it wastes time and energy.
I’d reached that conclusion a short time ago, and my present state was the result of it.
But Cha Si-eon still looked skeptical.
“Is that something you can simply decide?”
“I managed to do it, either way.”
“Then why didn’t you decide it sooner?”
“Do you think this is easy? It takes time and effort to achieve that kind of mental victory…….”
The volley of questions stirred me up again, and I answered through gritted teeth.
Did Cha Si-eon really think these rationalizations were evidence of my soundness?
Somehow the suspicion seemed to fade from Cha Si-eon’s expression.
This is ridiculous…….
Rather absurdly, it seemed Cha Si-eon had concluded that my way of thinking had changed for some reason.
And he remembered that fit the criteria for a monster as I’d defined it.
Maybe the one with an overreaction to Contamination wasn’t me, but Cha Si-eon himself.
“So you’ve convinced yourself of your state through that explanation?”
Yes, that does seem to be the case.
The way he kept pressing me even as I insisted I was fine was telling.
“I’ve decided not to swing between hope and despair. And if I think of my situation as not entirely negative, it actually feels manageable.”
“Manageable how?”
“There’s something I can do with this.”
“…….”
“At least I’m not being tormented meaninglessly, so I’ve decided to count it as tolerable.”
It wasn’t false bravado—it was genuine.
Somehow, I’d come to understand.
What kind of person Lee Seob is, and what kind of person Lee Sol is.
Lee Seob cried out for help everywhere, and laid bare his own heart before us.
Lee Sol was the daughter he so desperately wanted to save, and many would grieve her death, many would suffer, and many more would be crushed by the weight of responsibility.
At this point, heaven itself should move to save Lee Sol—and by chance, I have the means to do it.
So I’d decided to count it as truly manageable.
Being entangled with the Crow is disaster and calamity to me; that thing is like the enemy of my past life—but with this meaning imposed upon it, it’s not purely evil.
“Are you satisfied now?”
“Yes. I’m satisfied.”
Finally, Cha Si-eon nodded.
I felt as though I’d passed some kind of test and exhaled.
Goodness, I’m exhausted.
Thinking I might finally leave, I got up from the bench where I’d been sitting.
Then Cha Si-eon suddenly asked me something.
“Will you write a last testament?”
A last testament?
“Yes, I’m planning to write one this time.”
When I nodded, Cha Si-eon offered unexpected advice.
“Write it as shamefully as possible.”
“Shamefully?”
“That way, you’re bound to come back alive.”
I didn’t understand at first, but the meaning dawned on me belatedly, and I laughed quietly.
Leave behind a testament so humiliating that sheer pride forces you to survive?
No—this might be a trap.
A trap where only I write it shamefully, only I die, and only I end up truly disgraced.
So I asked him with suspicion in my voice.
“Are you writing yours that way, Team Leader?”
“I use that method frequently.”

* * *

I’d decided to write my last testament in the early morning.
But that became impossible.
It was 3 a.m. now.
The team members participating in the special Train Station operation were out on a reconnaissance run ahead of the actual operation.
Right now, we were at Yongsan Station.

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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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