A new hire’s day three at Daydream Incorporation.

“Phew.”

Go Yeongeun cautiously sat back down at her desk as lunchtime drew to an end.

As a self-taught medical practitioner, she felt she was adapting reasonably well to her new situation.

Her supervisors in Team R weren’t exactly warm, but they didn’t show excessive territoriality or recklessly push her into life-threatening tasks either.

Most importantly, she had successfully cleared two F-Grade ghost stories so far!

‘Didn’t they say the average rookie clears one or two in a week?’

Clearing two in just three days, even if they were low-grade stories, was a decent performance for a newbie!

She was truly doing her best to adjust to this insane company…

Even though she had nearly fainted upon seeing the points for the Wish Token.

‘Only 66 points for clearing two stories? At this rate, how am I ever supposed to reach 500,000...?’

“...”

But giving up wasn’t an option.

‘I can do this.’

Yeongeun steeled herself.

‘…Are the other rookies feeling the same way?’

Absent-mindedly, she checked her phone.

Pinned at the top of her messenger app was a group chat.

[Daydream Inc. New Employee Group Chat]

It was a group chat for all the new recruits.

Everyone was in it, except for one person.

It wasn’t because he was being excluded—no one had their contact information.

That person was none other than the top recruit, Kim Sol-eum.

‘We really need to add him.’

Even Baek Saheon was in the group chat. 

Yet strangely, no one had encountered Kim Sol-eum in the company, so there was no opportunity to let him know.

For all Yeongeun knew, Kim Sol-eum might have had an incredibly intense first two days at work, making the situation understandable.

‘Maybe I should contact him through the company messenger.’

She logged into the intranet and searched for Kim Sol-eum’s name to try sending a message…

That’s when—

Ping, ping, ping-ping-ping!

The group chat exploded with notifications.

 – Did you see the announcement just now?

 – Does anyone here know Kim Sol-eum personally…?

 – He’s the top recruit, right?

 – Key contributor to clearing an A-grade story’? What does that even mean…?

 – Was Kim Sol-eum the one wearing that weird antler mask…?

“…?!”

* * *

“Wow, Roe Deer, some higher-ups think you should be promoted to supervisor right away.”

“Cough—”

I nearly choked on my medicine.

“But apparently, it was unprecedented, so people from other departments are flipping out, and it got blocked right away.”

“…Oh, I see.”

Should I have said I was disappointed? Honestly, I wasn’t the least bit disappointed, so that was all I could manage to say.

I put down the empty medicine bottle and rubbed my stomach.

After narrowly escaping the Tuesday Quiz Show, which had morphed into an A-Grade story, we were promptly taken to the infirmary for emergency treatment.

We had been bleeding profusely from our faces, after all.

“Feeling better now?”

“Yes.”

The medicine seemed to work well.

The drugs at Daydream Incorporation were always suspicious, but the standard first-aid medicines were usually just highly effective.

– These are recovery potions for damage sustained from supernatural entities—those bizarre, otherworldly beings from ghost stories.

In other words, they were health potions designed for dealing with darkness.

‘I think they sold a cherry-ade flavor of this at the collab café near the pop-up store...’

It tasted just like a cold medicine.

‘Anyway, it feels unreal to be alive and drinking this potion.’

Having escaped, everything felt wonderful.

Living in broad daylight was such a blessing...

But the superiors seemed more preoccupied with something else than savoring the relief.

How exactly had this incident been reported and handled by upper management?

They were busy mobilizing every connection they had to figure out what had happened.

“Honestly, this was an unprecedented, special situation. I wish our team leader had pushed harder to make that clear, but that’s not his style…”

“Well, maybe you can handle that when you get promoted, deputy.”

“Oh, I’m quitting before that happens.”

“Honestly, same.”

I really hope I can, too.

Amid this strange camaraderie, we all sprawled across the infirmary beds.

Park Minseong, our supervisor, stretched and let out a long sigh.

A deep breath of relief.

“…I really thought I was going to die. Life is good, after all. Sol-eum, thank you.”

“No, I just did my best.”

Honestly, the <Chronicles of Darkness Exploration> wiki did most of the work.

At this point, making any more excuses would just steer the conversation in an awkward direction, like, “We were all doomed anyway, but you’re so smart and capable,” which I really didn’t want. 

So, I just stayed silent.

“We’re not incompetent seniors, you know. We just got complacent because we thought it was only D-Grade.”

“Deputy, that excuse is kind of pathetic.”

“Well, let’s prove ourselves with the next story, then.”

Let’s just hope there won’t be another one…

The brief moment of peace during our well-earned rest was quickly interrupted.

“The manager’s meeting just ended.”

“…!”

“He’s coming to the infirmary.”

The deputy, who had been checking her smartphone, suddenly stood up. The supervisor followed suit, prompting me to rise as well, somewhat out of reflex.

Finally, I got to meet him in person.

Lee Jaheon, our manager.

Employee D, also known as “ Lizard.”

One of the most famous employees of Daydream Incorporation as documented in the <Chronicles of Darkness Exploration>. Rumor had it that, due to his popularity, the company was even working on a character design for him.

I couldn’t help but feel curious.

What kind of person could he be?

Judging by our brief conversation over the call button earlier, he didn’t seem like an ordinary person… but considering how he managed to pull off that incredible superplay with AAA batteries, it was easy to see him in a heroic light.

Knock, knock, knock.

“The door’s open. Please come in, Team Leader!”

The infirmary door swung open.

Standing in the doorway was a tall figure.

Dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, complete with an employee badge, he looked like the quintessential office worker, albeit a very polished one.

At last, Lee Jaheon, the legendary “Employee D” of the <Chronicles of Darkness Exploration>, had made his appearance.

“Good afternoon.”

“…!? …!!”

I-It’s a lizard.

No, wait, that’s not a mask—he really…

He really has a lizard’s head.

“…”

Wait a second.

No, that’s impossible.

The lingering image of that TV-headed host must have left me so stressed that I was experiencing some kind of hallucinatory symptom.

Right? My brain must be misinterpreting a mask as an actual lizard head…

Wait, now that I look again, he’s carrying a mask on his belt.

“…”

This is insane.

“Truly a pleasure to meet you.”

“Please, come in, Team Leader!”

Why is everyone acting so calm about this?

If a lizard wearing a suit was going to walk in, shouldn’t someone at least warn the new hire? Like, “Don’t be alarmed.”

Why are they acting like this is a perfectly normal moment for introductions?

“Oh, this is Roe Deer. And this is Lee Jaheon, our manager. Go ahead, introduce yourself.”

“Wow, looks like Roe Deer was stunned by how handsome the manager is! Haha! He really doesn’t look like one of us, does he?”

Could someone clarify if that was just a social cue or some kind of hint about my reality, please?

The white lizard's head turned to me expressionlessly.

Its crimson, slit-pupil eyes gleamed as they focused on me.

“Roe Deer.”

“…”

“Can you see me?”

F—f—freaking hell.

“What do you mean, sir? Oh, no, my vision is fine. No injuries and my eyesight is perfectly normal.”

I silently marveled at my own quick thinking.

"…"

Um, reply?

"I see."

The pale reptilian head swiveled with a faint hiss.

I nearly fainted on the spot.

‘Please, just stop. Seriously.’

Even outside of the nightmare of ghost stories, this world was unreasonably cruel.

‘What even is going on right now?’

But I wouldn’t dare open my mouth.

Judging by the atmosphere, it was clear that acknowledging the lizard head was not the correct move.

‘Everyone else must be seeing a normal human face.’

Don’t stand out.

Absolutely do not give this walking humanoid—no, lizard excavator—any reason to suspect you.

I managed to maintain a neutral expression, and thankfully, the conversation flowed smoothly with the help of other team members.

Finally, the main topic came up.

"Sir, did the higher-ups explain what the hell happened here?"

"Yes."

The pale reptile, no, Team Leader Lee Jaheon nodded.

First, the cause of the incident,

It turned out that the employees who interfered were...

"It was a human error. ‘Tuesday Talk Show’ was accidentally assigned to both Team D and Team L."

"Oh, for god’s sake."

"Unbelievable..."

So that’s why the assignment felt so rushed. It must’ve been a mix-up.

The manager continued his briefing.

– While Team L’s medium for accessing the ‘Tuesday Quiz Show’ (a postcard) was created at a similar time as Team D’s, Team L delayed it by approximately 50 minutes when they briefly stepped out of the office building.

"Did they go out to buy coffee for the newbies or something?"

"That team was known for taking good care of their members."

Two team members’ expressions briefly soured, likely recalling the now-deceased Team L, but they quickly masked their reactions.

"So, the transmission occurred at a weird time because of that delay. And our team initiated the sequence first."

"Correct."

Lee Jaheon answered succinctly and resumed the briefing.

The next revelation, however, was a bombshell.

"And the reclassification of ‘Tuesday Quiz Show’ as A-grade has been denied."

"...?!"

"What? Excuse me?"

– Due to the absence of a second group to witness the incident and the relatively high initial survival rate (43%), there is insufficient evidence to classify this as a proper A-Grade phenomenon.

"How does that make sense when Team L was completely wiped out?"

"And the liquid in the Dream Essence Collector! It was gold! People have repeatedly said that’s an A-Grade color!"

– While the liquid in the Dream Essence Collector was comparable to A-grade concentrations, the possibility of high-quality liquid being extracted from a lower-grade phenomenon cannot be ruled out.

"Therefore, since the official classification of ‘Tuesday Quiz Show’ was D-Grade, exceptions will not be recognized."

"…."

In other words, the company’s stance was clear:

‘We screwed up; don’t make this a bigger issue than it already is. Let’s just handle it quietly.’

Classic corporate behavior.

It was impressive how they managed to drive their employees to the brink of insanity.

"This won’t do. I’m going to go up there and—"

"Hold on, Deputy. Hold on."

The supervisor interjected, in disbelief.

"But the higher-ups already collected the A-Grade liquid, didn’t they? Are they really unwilling to even credit the liquid?"

"They’re not."

"...!"

"They’ve decided on compensation."

Honestly, I wasn’t surprised.

‘They’re just trying to buy our silence.’

It’s standard practice for any company with a shred of self-preservation instinct to prepare some kind of appeasement.

The real question was, how much?

I carefully avoided making eye contact with the lizard and instead focused on his… mouth.

"They’ve acknowledged the exceptional circumstances and the verification of the liquid’s color in the Dream Essence Collector. They agree that the exploration was worthy of an A-Grade equivalency."

"So...?"

"Additional points will be awarded."

– For the resolution of this specific ‘Tuesday Quiz Show,’ one-time additional points equivalent to an A-Grade achievement have been granted.

The amount is...

"Thirty thousand points per person."

"...!!"

The deputy and supervisor froze as if struck by lightning.

"Thirty thousand?!"

"Yes."

"WHAAAAT?!"

A-Grade default points are 100,000.

If you divide that among the participants, assuming only two teams survived, the expected payout per person would likely be below 17,000 points.

‘But we just got nearly double that.’

And it wasn’t over yet.

‘And an additional incentive was given to the employee who played a decisive role in clearing the task,’ the lizard head said, turning to look at me.

‘Kim Sol-eum,’ he added.

– An additional 10,000 points are awarded to the top contributor.

“You’ll be receiving 40,000 points in total.”

"..."

Just like that, I nearly accumulated 8% of total points need to get the wish token.

‘Wow.’

It was almost dizzying.

Disappointed that the A-Grade clear wasn’t officially recorded?

No, fuck that shit—This is way better!

‘In this world, standing out and getting promoted rapidly isn’t a good thing.’

When expectations become unreasonably high, what happens?

You’d undoubtedly be thrown into even more difficult ghost stories.

Plus, the more noticeable you are, the harder it becomes to use the “goods” discreetly.

Sure, promotion unlocks access to special spaces or items, but you can’t afford to lose sight of your main priorities.

This is a world where even the smallest mistake could cost your life!

‘Considering I practically had one foot in the grave this time... I’d rather not get involved with A-Grades again.’

Looking at the points, at least it didn’t feel like the ordeal was in vain.

And apparently, the other two felt the same way.

"...I think I’m three years closer to my retirement."

"Me too."

But then, they snapped out of it and turned to me.

"Points aren’t transferable, so... this feels a bit awkward."

"Seriously, all of this was thanks to you, Sol-eum."

"No, it’s fine."

Honestly, even if points were transferable, I doubt they would have handed them over.

This isn’t a matter of personality, it’s about survival.

‘Everyone here took this job because they’re chasing enough points to buy a wish token.’

For most field exploration employees, points are something they absolutely can’t compromise on.

Noted. Definitely something to keep in mind.

"Whoa!"

"We’re really getting the points!"

We headed back to the office right away to register the points.

[Employee Kim Sol-eum / Points: 40,100p]

‘Wow.’

I stared at the monitor.

A number in the tens of thousands.

To be honest, it felt pretty momentous.

“Whew, we survived, and we raked in a ton of points…”

The deputy grinned.

“Isn’t this worth a company card dinner?”

“Oooooh!”

“Let’s go, Roe Deer!”

Without hesitation, I answered enthusiastically.

“Yes!”

* * *

And now.

I’m watching a lizard eat Korean beef, a once-in-a-lifetime sight.

Sizzle.

Perfectly grilled beef vanishes into the lizard’s mouth, and I’m trying my best to act like it’s just another Tuesday.

“The team leader has a bit of a peculiar personality, but he’s incredibly capable.”

“Yeah, you were really lucky to join our team.”

"...Yes."

It’s pretty much confirmed that I’m the only one seeing a lizard face.

Considering how the team members’ admiration seemed genuine, and after seeing a few glimpses of manager Lee Jaheon smashing ghost stories head-on, his attitude made sense.

Anyway, ghost stories aside, the beef was delicious. I found myself enjoying the dinner more than expected.

‘He doesn’t make things awkward, at least.’

A little alcohol definitely helped dull the lingering fear from earlier.

‘When I get home, I’ll binge ten episodes of kid-friendly cartoons and sleep with every light on.’

Just as I was planning my extreme bedtime routine, Lee Ja-heon, who was munching on scallion salad, suddenly asked:

"Are you planning to save the 40,000 points?"

"...Excuse me?"

It was a fair question.

"Ah, yes. I need to buy a wish token, after all."

"I see."

"..."

Wait a second. This pattern felt strangely familiar.

I mentally reviewed the earlier conversation.

So basically...

"Is there another useful way to spend the points?"

"Yes."

"..."

Right. This was how to approach it.

I think I finally figured out how to work with this lizard team leader.

It felt oddly satisfying. In a much more relaxed voice, I asked him,

“What would that be?”

“Custom equipment.”

"...!"

I didn’t expect to hear that come up here...

‘Finally.’

One of the defining perks of working at Daydream Inc.

‘Exclusive equipment!’