The days inside the Happy Ending Sect’s underground bunker were monotonous—and bizarre.
People took turns leading prayers.
New corpses arrived every day.
And then, people would passionately explain just how good each of those dead had been in life—and why they deserved a happy ending.
Others would listen, shedding tears, smiling, applauding.
The corpses were crammed into black boxes.
It was the portrait of a mad little society—repulsive and deranged, yet eerily peaceful amongst themselves.
“Classic cult behavior.”
Cruelty and lunacy, wrapped in a tight bubble of artificial warmth.
The believers were oddly kind. They treated one another warmly, intimately. They called each other family.
Inside an underground survival bunker, sealed off from the world.
[Ah, that too is part of the art of governance. A sense of solidarity and belonging, routine structure—those are the things that make people unable to leave a group.]
Right. Maybe that’s to be expected. But...
“...It still feels like something’s missing.”
[Hm?]
The details. The little elements that make such irrationality function.
For instance, in most cults, you’d expect some shared symbolic behavior during rituals.
“Drinking a certain potion, holding a branch, mimicking animal sounds...”
Some minor act shared only among themselves. A blend of the mystical, the symbolic, and the simple—something that builds religious identity.
“Same with clothing.”
Usually there's some uniformity—a single color scheme, or a common decoration.
But here, inside this bunker, everyone’s just wearing casual clothes. There's no visible sign of initiation.
Even the school uniform worn by that executive... it’s symbolic if seen as a horror motif, but not particularly out of place in casual wear either.
“Honestly, if they all wore uniforms, it would’ve made the creepiness land harder.”
But with only the executive wearing it, it feels disjointed.
“How do they build group identity, then?”
To think this inhuman cult is sustained solely by the concepts of Name-nim and happiness...
Is it really just: get brainwashed by Name-nim, kill someone, and that’s it?
[Oh, what an insightful critique! My friend should consider forming a cult of their own—your performance on the train as a prophet was most compelling!
Might I propose something radical? Let us found one together! I’d even grant permission to use this plush-bodied Brown as your cult’s symbol!]
Uh—thanks, but I’ll pass for now.
Anyway—
To be honest, all those missing details? They feel like... gaps.
In the wiki.
“Like someone forgot to set the parameters.”
Too much focus on visceral horror and shock value, without any of the real-world grounding that gives stories weight.
And that’s usually where the story’s foundations come from.
“...The Happy Ending Sect was one of the most recently added Mimicker factions on the wiki, wasn’t it?”
Maybe that explains it. In hindsight, I almost wish we’d ended up in an older sect.
“Like the Garden of Praise Cult?”
But I let go of the thought.
Better this—this numb, vaguely disturbed state—than being emotionally wrecked.
“Better this than real horror, real disgust.”
Let’s just be grateful it’s not worse.
I sat there, breathing a sigh at the sloppy balancing act, slowly adjusting to the grotesque and chilling scenes, the nausea in my gut.
[Ah, your critique is sharp indeed... but Noru.]
[Have you ever considered that some cults don’t reveal their true nature unless you become part of the inner circle?]
So you're saying... only by joining can I witness the “real thing.”
“Yeah, no thanks.”
No one had pressured me over the last couple of days to swallow a blank scripture page and gain the Mimicker Sect’s authority.
No cryptic hints. No veiled coercion.
Which, in any other cult, would actually feel even more ominous.
Like a deliberately constructed calm.
“Maybe they think I’m not just a contaminated human—but a ghost story in itself, so they’re playing the long game.”
I even asked Ho Yu-won, but he shook his head.
“Ah, no, nothing like that happened to me either.”
...Alright.
“But honestly, there’s not much intel to find here. Still, it’s convenient that we’re allowed to roam separately like this, isn’t it?”
True.
The Happy Ending Sect had assigned us—well, given us both living quarters within the same “zone.”
Dome-shaped chambers, linked like an anthill.
[Authority Zone]
Not like the clustered, minimal spaces given to new initiates—just enough for basic survival.
No, this zone was different. Set apart. Spacious. Empty.
Independent. Like they were giving us our own territory.
Even the rooms had no CCTV. Just bare, sealed-off chambers.
[Like a lion’s enclosure, perhaps. The living quarters of doomsday survivors, tucked underground.]
Aside from our personal rooms, the rest of the Authority Zone seemed unoccupied—
Except for the twins in school uniforms.
“Authority Zone... I think the Mimicker Sect refers to supernatural anomalies as ‘Authorities,’ right?”
Yes.
Now that you mention it—
Question:
What does Ho Yu-won know about the Mimicker Sect?
“Enough to get by. I read a few experimental logs that mentioned it at Yukhoe Research Lab.”
Ah.
“The name of the god worshiped by a certain cult, whose belief system developed from earlier research, was used as the subtitle for that project.”
...The experiment log I saw by the incubator when I woke up.
It seems Ho Yu-won uncovered more traces in the lab’s deeper levels.
“An extreme religious sect that worships darkness and aspires to become darkness. Rapidly expanding in influence. Seemed like the perfect place to extract the kind of info we’d missed. And also...”
Ho Yu-won met my gaze.
“The experiment log that created you, Noru-nim... it said the project name came from this cult’s god.”
...!
“So I’m curious what your connection is to this religion. Though—don’t worry. That’s not a question.”
.......
“Then let me ask something else. Noru-nim.”
The topic cut off by the elevator incident.
That obsessive question—
“How do you know about Saegwang Special City?”
...Phew.
“Yeah, I can’t say ‘I read it on the wiki.’”
I had no choice.
Response unavailable.
→ Please substitute with a different question.
“......”
Ho Yu-won’s smile faded.
For a split second, he just stared blankly at me.
Then—like flipping a switch—he smiled again.
“You can’t answer... I see.”
......
“I’ll remember that, Noru-nim.”
No follow-up.
The question ended with a vague unease.
That evening, we finally experienced something that passed as an ordinary event—something that made sense in terms of daily life detail.
The Happy Ending Sect’s dinner time.
“Let us spread happiness.”
“May Name-nim’s gaze fall upon us.”
Here, every morning and evening, all residents were required to eat together.
No exceptions.
Even those contaminated by ghost stories—like us—had to sit among the new initiates.
I was seated directly across from the school-uniformed executives... sigh.
“At this point, they’d probably call it a happy ending even if we killed an initiate.”
I resisted the urge to sigh aloud.
Soon, the meal began.
Seated in silence, I looked up at the bunker walls—bare cement, exposed beams—then down at the food...
Canned goods.
“Can’t eat?”
I turned.
The executive in uniform leaned her chin on one hand, staring at me.
Then she nudged the boy beside her—identical to her.
“Hey, hey, what do you think dragons eat?”
He shrugged. She slapped him lightly on the back and turned to me with a bright smile.
“Ah, we should introduce ourselves! Introductions are important! I’m I Seoyu, and this is I Seobin. We’re twins. I’m the older sister!”
She grinned.
“Some people call me Isseoyoo~ in a Chungcheong Province accent!”
She was so cheerful—
Which only made it more disturbing.
This was the same person who’d killed, brainwashed, and tried to abduct people with hallucinations—acting like an ordinary, upbeat teenager.
And the casualness with which she dropped her real name in a ghost story only made it worse.
And...
“They really were twins.”
Now I knew.
They were the twins who’d appeared in several Happy Ending Sect stories.
I’d even seen them in YouTube thumbnails.
First time I’d heard their names, though.
“Do you eat weird stuff? Like... people’s brains? Or maybe livers?”
Honestly, in this setting, they just looked like ordinary high schoolers.
So I hesitated—
Then finally asked:
Question:
Why the school uniforms?
“Oh, this?”
She tilted her head.
“You’re curious?”
She rolled across the table.
Her long hair, tied in a red ribbon, wriggled on the tablecloth like a snake.
“Are you really really really really really curious? Curious why I wear this? Really really curious? Really?”
...No.
I’m good.
Polite Dinner Conversation Escape Tactic
“Got it! Got it!”
Please just let it go...
Being around crazy people means there’s never a warning.
I’m going to mentally burn out before I even figure out how to disguise myself as human again.
Everything’s exhausting.
Overwhelming.
And then—
Thunk.
“Oh dear...”
To my right.
An old woman dining next to Ho Yu-won accidentally bumped his arm and spilled her cup of water.
Soaked his sleeve.
“Are you alright?”
But instead of checking the spill, Ho Yu-won immediately helped steady her. Cleared the table. Dabbed her clothes.
...Ho Yu-won? Doing all that?
“What a kind person.”
“He’s a good person.”
...I felt it.
Eyes from all directions.
Murmurs around every table as people watched Ho Yu-won’s actions.
......
That evening, he sat with the old woman, chatting softly...
Then eventually invited her into his assigned quarters.
“I’ll tell you a fun story.”
No one stopped him.
[Oh. You can feel the anticipation in the audience.]
Yes.
Anticipation.
The cult executive—I Seoyu, who introduced herself—whispered to us as we passed.
“If you’re going to make Kim Bokja grandma happy, tell us in the morning, okay? We need to prepare the ritual!”
.......
My stomach turned.
But I didn’t stop Ho Yu-won.
He must be doing this for intel.
And if something went wrong—I’d intervene.
So, I followed at a distance as Ho Yu-won gently escorted the old woman toward his assigned room...
And entered behind them.
Thud.
But the moment I closed the door and leaned against it—
Ho Yu-won let go of the elderly woman he was supporting and stepped back.
And the old woman straightened her back and stood tall—completely upright.
‘...!’
She spat out something round like a glass marble that had been in her mouth. The object began to shift form, solidifying...
A cold, sharp expression.
Eyes like a hawk’s.
A pale face, cropped blue hair.
Someone I knew.
‘...!!’
It was Deputy Manager Eun Hajae.
‘Wait a second.’
What the hell is going on?
For a moment, my brain refused to process it.
Then—like a lightning bolt—I realized:
‘No wonder he was helping the old woman.’
Deputy Manager Eun Hajae had infiltrated this Happy Ending Sect facility in disguise—as the elderly woman...!
And there was only one bastard who could’ve ordered that.
Ho Yu-won!
“Seriously? You sent someone in, and now you show up yourself?”
“Oh, no, just coincidence. I didn’t expect to run into you like this.”
“Right, of course. Total coincidence.”
Deputy Manager Eun Hajae flopped to the floor.
Then looked like she wanted to punch Ho Yu-won in the face—but upon noticing the bruise on his face, her eyes lit up.
“Executive, are you injured?”
“Ah. This person here has a bit of a heavy hand....”
[How pathetic.]
Exactly.
As Ho Yu-won gestured toward me, Deputy Manager Eun Hajae glanced in my direction too.
She looked stunned for a second—but then took a breath and asked calmly:
“...Aren’t you from the Security Team?”
“I am. And actually, Songgolmae-nim knows me too.”
“......”
Her eyes darkened.
It was like she was recalling the list of Exploration Team staff she’d worked with, and imagining what had become of them.
But before that line of thought could even finish, Ho Yu-won cut in again.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it? This is Noru-nim.”
Deputy Manager Eun Hajae froze.
Her gaze fully shifted from Ho Yu-won to me.
And her mouth opened.
“Noru?”
......
Yes, Deputy Manager.
I used smoke to form the letters:
‘It’s okay.’
I was doing better now than when I met the other Security Team members.
At least I was thinking clearly, and I wasn’t locked in a solitary isolation chamber anymore.
To meet her at eye level, I carefully sat down near the door.
Trying my best to speak in the way I used to.
I messed up, and it turned into this. But it’ll be okay.
I’m working on finding a way to recover.
“......”
She looked at the floor.
Her face was hidden by her hair, so I couldn’t see her expression for a moment—
Then she lifted her head and met my eyes again.
Her expression was calm—utterly composed, not a flicker of agitation.
“Of course you’ll recover. Hey—
Going through some freak side effects from contact with darkness? That’s how you know you’re a real Baekilmong employee.”
Then she tapped my arm, cloaked in black smoke.
“You’re a smart one. I’m sure you’ll figure something out. Start thinking now about what you’ll do once you’re back to normal.”
......
Thank you.
“No need for thanks. Hell, if I want a smoke, I might as well stand next to you from now on.”
...That’s probably not a good idea.
Anyway, she grumbled about how she couldn’t smoke while disguised like this, and we caught up a little about what had happened since.
It was brief, but—honestly—a good moment.
When I mentioned I’d worked with Assistant Manager Park Minseong, a faint smile even crept onto her face.
Of course, it vanished again the moment we returned to the topic at hand.
“Songgolmae-ssi. I didn’t summon you here just to have a friendly chat with Noru-nim.”
“Apologies.”
She apologized immediately—but her expression clearly said, “And what are you going to do about it, brat?”
Huh. They’re... weirdly comfortable with each other now.
‘I was worried after that guy hijacked Deputy Manager Eun Hajae’s body last time, but...’
It seemed like she was still being herself.
‘Still, I’ll need to double-check later.’
But for now—
Deputy Manager, were you ordered to infiltrate this place by Executive Ho?
“Yeah. It’s been a pain in the ass. Had to drag back a corpse too...”
She muttered that she’d only infiltrated cults twice before, back when she was a journalist.
“What kind of nonsense is this—some underground bunker worshiping darkness, murdering people left and right. Happy ending, my ass. They should try giving themselves a happy ending instead of screwing with everyone else.”
Every word she said was correct.
But if this place is just holding new initiates, won’t it be hard to get intel here?
“Nah. It’s exactly during initiation rituals that the real info leaks out.”
Huh?
“These cult types—once they think they’ve got someone, they start showing their true colors. That’s how it always is.”
She grinned.
“And if they’re going to do that, they’ll have prepped for it, right? I’m sure there’s something hidden in this facility. Which means—”
“All of that’s good and well, Songgolmae-ssi. But I hope you haven’t forgotten the actual purpose of your mission.”
Ho Yu-won cut her off again.
“Did you find anything about Saegwang Special City?”
“Are you really just gonna say that in front of him...? Anyway, to find that kind of info here, we need to understand what these people are doing. That’ll give us the foundation for—ugh.”
She made a face like she was disgusted with everything.
“Just wait a bit. You’re the one who sent me here because you already confirmed that I’d find info about Saegwang Special City, right?”
......!
‘Future?’
Something clicked in my mind.
Just before I boarded the Tamra-bound train, Deputy Manager Eun Hajae had rushed into my dorm and said—
You’ll be declared dead on January 2nd.
I saw it—in a future-revealing darkness.
If she learned that through one of Ho Yu-won’s “projects”...
‘Then his actions make sense now.’
He’d already confirmed it.
“That Eun Hajae would uncover info about Saegwang Special City from within the Name-nim cult.”
And now more realizations hit.
‘Wait—did he deliberately get himself recruited as a new believer, just to infiltrate too?’
With his position as an Executive, it wouldn’t be surprising if he caught wind of something the day before and prepared accordingly.
That would explain why the Happy Ending Sect didn’t cause more casualties during their attack, and why they were able to infiltrate the Baekilmong HQ’s basement so smoothly.
He must’ve used some trick to pull guards from their posts in advance.
So they could enter without resistance.
And of course—he dragged me into it too, and I wasn’t thrilled about that...
But more than that—
‘...What kind of darkness shows the future?’
The accuracy.
Darknesses are paranormal phenomena. The stronger they are, the more dangerous and incomprehensible.
So what is Ho Yu-won using?
Question: What is the future-revealing darkness?
“...Was that a question for me? Strange. I’m pretty sure the Q&A session ended back when it was my turn to ask.”
...Damn it.
“Noru-nim, I don’t think you’re authorized to ask questions until I say so.”
Me, in a gas mask—and Ho Yu-won, smiling.
We stared at each other in silence.
Deputy Manager Eun Hajae looked back and forth between us, wondering what the hell was going on.
Eventually, she just shrugged and said:
“Well, now that we’ve got more people, it’ll be easier.
If Noru and the Executive help with the search too.”
“Search?”
“Yeah. I was planning to get a feel for this facility’s layout anyway, but... hmm.”
She shrugged again.
“Even if this bunker itself is a darkness, there has to be some kind of entrance, right? Some passage that leads to the surface.”
That... made sense.
‘Paranormal spaces usually have an exit back to reality.’
If you came in, there must be a way out.
Even if this bunker isn’t fixed in one physical location, it must be temporarily connected to somewhere.
The initiates here probably wouldn’t know—since they woke up here unconscious—but someone higher up in the hierarchy would.
Like those twins.
“Also, those two creepy twins in school uniforms? They’re never at the cafeteria during meals.”
Deputy Manager Eun Hajae added that they were probably doing something other than managing initiates.
Anyway, the point was—
If we could find a hint about the exit, we could use that to trace toward the core.
“In cults, they always keep the most valuable stuff farthest from the entrance—deep inside the inner sanctum.
Of course, if things go south, we’ll need to escape too.”
“Ah.”
Ho Yu-won didn’t object.
And I thought about it for a moment, then offered my input:
Then maybe there’s some kind of observation device near that area—something to look outside with.
“Ooh, could be.”
Actually, I was sure of it.
The wiki entries about the Final Sanctum of the Happy Ending Sect mentioned devices that let people see the outside world.
“No way they’d put that kind of thing near the new initiates.
Show them the outside too soon, and the brainwashing effect wears off.”
So it had to be:
Somewhere away from the living areas.
Higher elevation.
Easy for insiders to check.
Which meant—
“This place.”
[Authority Zone]
With its high ceilings and ant-nest layout, this part of the facility likely sat closest to the surface.
We made a cautious plan to explore it—without being seen by the twins.
“Perfect. With both of you helping, it’ll be easier for this old lady to move around too.”
Deputy Manager Eun Hajae swallowed the glass marble again.
A short time later—
“Here.”
We found it.
At the far end of the Authority Zone. An empty section.
A small, round hatch was mounted high on the ceiling...
“Glass.”
And when we opened it—
There was a fixed device inside, like a small telescope, designed to let someone peek outside.
“Noru, want to take a look?”
Gladly.
I rose lightly in my cloak of smoke and floated up.
Pressed my eye to the exposed glass scope...
A palm-sized field of blurry glass revealed—
.........
......!!
“Noru?”
I looked again.
But the view didn’t change.
Old homes. Mountains. Telephone poles. Dirt roads. Traditional hanok houses.
It was—
Jisan Village.
This Happy Ending Sect Final Sanctum was located directly beneath Baek Saheon’s childhood hometown.