Editor’s Survival Guide - Chapter 155

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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 154

ep21. Lost in Fog (5)
“Otter…?”
Baek Sa-ra’s eyes widened as she stared at me.
Then her gaze shifted urgently toward Cha Si-eon.
Within seconds, her eyes swung back to me, only to dart toward Cha Si-eon again.
Baek Sa-ra kept shifting her gaze between us like that.
Her look seemed to ask, “Where did this come from?” and Cha Si-eon answered it.
“It’s Seo Do-un himself.”
“Really?”
Baek Sa-ra’s surprise deepened as she fixed her eyes on me.
“You’re really Otter?”
Baek Sa-ra reached out her hand toward me, then withdrew it.
Something suspicious was smeared on her glove.
So instead of her hand, she brought her face closer as she asked.
It was pure amazement, but I flinched without meaning to.
Baek Sa-ra’s gaze as she peered at me lasted far too long.
For some reason, I couldn’t meet her eyes.
So I answered while looking away.
“Yes…”
“What happened?”
“I’m not entirely sure…”
“Sorry? I didn’t hear you clearly.”
…
“Otter, please look this way when you speak.”
Making proper eye contact with the person you’re talking to is basic courtesy in conversation.
So Baek Sa-ra’s request was perfectly reasonable.
But right now, I was eight years old.
“Otter, is something uncomfortable?”
When I didn’t lift my head, Baek Sa-ra’s expression grew serious.
She moved closer, apparently to check my condition, and I found myself increasingly trapped.
That was when it happened.
Cha Si-eon’s hand wedged itself between our faces.
With his dark glove blocking both of our views equally, he spoke.
“Stop bothering him.”
“Bothering him?”
“You’re bothering him. Right now.”
Baek Sa-ra looked incredulous at Cha Si-eon’s words.
But he was right about this.
I caught my breath behind Cha Si-eon’s glove.
And in my distress, I painfully felt the confused psychology of an eight-year-old.
To eight-year-old Seo Do-un, the man with long hair meant nothing.
But the young woman was breathtakingly awkward, and that’s why I couldn’t even look at Baek Sa-ra properly.
I found my own state quite troubling.
But since my real self was undeniably an adult, I gathered my fragmented reason and spoke.
“It’s a temporary condition. I’ll be back to normal before we leave this place.”
I spoke to reassure them, emphasizing that I was fine.
But it seemed to backfire.
Cha Si-eon withdrew the hand he’d been holding in front of my face.
Then Baek Sa-ra came into view again, and for some reason she was biting down hard on her lips.
—
Pattern 16. Funeral Procession
Overview: A procession of mourners dressed in funerary garb carrying a portrait and a coffin.
Their numbers fluctuate from a minimum of dozens to a maximum of hundreds.
All participants in the procession share the same face as the portrait—they are the dead, conducting their own funeral.
Thus they show you no interest whatsoever, but take care not to join their procession.
Should you become mixed in with them, you will find yourself following them.
Difficulty: Moderate
Response Method: The safest way to avoid joining the procession is to climb onto the arch of the bridge.
You may also hang from the bridge railing, but the Funeral Procession lasts anywhere from ten minutes to three hours. Since you may need to endure up to three hours, choose the method your physical strength permits.
Notes: Should the portrait in the Funeral Procession show a face you recognize, survival is impossible. Accept death humbly. And be assured—we will not judge you for your sins.
—
“Otter, aren’t you scared?”
“It’s all right…”
I answered awkwardly to Baek Sa-ra’s gentle question.
Honestly, how could I not be scared?
I was now at the very top of the bridge’s arch.
Sitting atop a seven- or eight-meter-high steel structure with no safety equipment, my liver was trembling.
And below us, on the road, an eerie procession stretched on.
Hundreds of people in black clothing passed over the bridge, holding white flowers.
Black suits, black dresses, black robes, black jeogori and skirts—all manner of funerary attire mingled together.
But their faces were all identical: an elderly man in his eighties.
It was the face from the portrait we’d seen earlier, and it kept pouring endlessly from beyond the fog even now.
It was a nightmare.
If it had been a face I recognized, I don’t think I could have watched at all.
“If you’re scared, you can close your eyes.”
Baek Sa-ra spoke as I sighed, looking down.
“I won’t let you fall.”
…
“Would you like some chocolate?”
“Yes…”
An eight-year-old who feels awkward in the face of her kindness but cannot refuse sweets.
I fumbled uncertainly as I took the chocolate.
Meanwhile, Cha Si-eon was exchanging signals with the other agents from a distance.
-Pattern 16 encountered, currently passing through
-Agent 12 standing by in position
The Funeral Procession beneath us was quite substantial.
It seemed we’d be stuck here for at least several dozen minutes, possibly an hour or two.
Meanwhile, the other agents were advancing steadily.
-Agents 6, 7 converging
-Agents 8, 9, 10 converging
-Agents 2, 3 converging
-Agents 4, 5 converging
-Agent 11 standing by
-Agent 12 standing by
A status report came back with no losses.
Truly seasoned veterans.
The field had suddenly changed and scattered us, and I’d thought we were in trouble, but they were calmly organizing the situation.
Once Cha Si-eon had assessed the situation, he turned back toward us.
“What were you trying to say earlier?”
He was asking about the story I’d spoken earnestly before, which hadn’t gotten through because of my unclear pronunciation.
To that, I answered again, more seriously and deliberately.
“Even if we reach the front of the Train Station, we’ll likely need multiple attempts to match the time window.”
“Eight attempts?”
“…Multiple attempts. Repeated trials.”
I explained again in response to Cha Si-eon’s question.
At the same time, Baek Sa-ra beside me clamped her mouth shut, and I briefly wanted to die.
“Continue.”
“…The Primitive Period Special Zone generates time displacement through opening and closing its door. So returning to the Waiting Hall of the Train Station from our current time point won’t be easy.”
But given the subject matter, both Cha Si-eon and Baek Sa-ra grew serious immediately.
“So the Bridge isn’t the main objective,” Baek Sa-ra murmured.
…
“They’re losing in firepower, so they’re trying to buy time…”
We had anticipated interference in the Train Station suppression operation.
And that interference would naturally be the insertion of mercenary units.
But as Baek Sa-ra said, the Big Cat side seemed to have judged they had no winning odds.
And they were right.
With Response Team 1 and Team 2 also standing by, if they came out they’d only be hunted immediately.
So it seemed they were displaying a clever trick using the Primitive Period Special Zone to flip the space.
Since it was a phenomenon we’d never seen before, everyone was confused.
But the Management Bureau’s elite adapted quickly to the anomaly.
Moreover, since the Bridge was already a fully explored region, it wasn’t terribly threatening to them.
In the end, this was just stalling for time.
So I wondered what they had in mind—were they really just going to hassle us while buying time like this?
If so, wasn’t their strategy too sloppy?
The Big Cat isn’t exactly the sharpest entity.
The situation right now is admittedly a headache, but without any clear finishing move, something felt off.
I continued with an uneasy feeling.
“And Yongsan Station is a place that was bombed. If we open the door and arrive at the time when the bombing was happening, what would happen?”
“The exterior of Yongsan Station during the bombing and its current state are different. It should be possible to open the door and identify the difference from outside.”
“But it’s a bombing. Couldn’t its effects spill beyond the door?”
At my question, Cha Si-eon began to consider.
Yongsan Station was literally reduced to ruins.
Getting caught in that would mean the end for anyone, whether a veteran or seasoned hand.
With most incidents, we could glance through the door crack and shut it again easily enough.
Since time is divided by the doorframe.
But could we really contain something as massive as a bombing just by closing our door?
I couldn’t say for certain.
Cha Si-eon, who had been thinking, asked me:
“Any word from the Raven?”
“…Do you think we have time to contact them?”
At my answer, Cha Si-eon thought again.
“We should prepare for a prolonged operation. We can manage three days on the rations we’re carrying.”
Perhaps because Cha Si-eon had experienced the terror of being stranded on the Island, he’d thought to bring provisions this time.
So we didn’t need to be as rushed and anxious as before.
“We’ll address the matter of re-entering the Train Station after we find the entrance.”
“A long operation isn’t a problem, but if we take too long, the Siren might get repaired again.”
Cha Si-eon nodded at Baek Sa-ra’s words.
“And if we’re too late, we might even be processed as Death-in-Service.”
Baek Sa-ra added it almost casually.
And at those words, I let out a cry without meaning to.
“Ah…!”
Baek Sa-ra startled as I suddenly cried out.
“What’s wrong?”
“The…will. What’s the disclosure scope?”
Baek Sa-ra blinked a couple of times at me.
Then, bewildered by my reaction, she answered.
“The Command Division reviews it first, then it’s delivered to the people mentioned in the will.”
“Ah…!”
I cried out again.
This couldn’t be happening.
The will I’d written at dawn.
Following Cha Si-eon’s advice, written as shamefully as possible, that will begins with the words: “To the Management Bureau.”
I looked back at Cha Si-eon in alarm.
Cha Si-eon was already looking at me, so our eyes met immediately.
Cha Si-eon had his hand covering his mouth.
I couldn’t yet understand what that meant.
But one thing was certain: time was running out.
For the sake of my social life, I had to escape this place as quickly as possible.

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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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