Borrow money from Brown?
And then... use that money to buy items at the Space Mall?
“......”
No.
‘Not borrowing.’
‘An advance.’
And the meaning of an advance is....
[Of course, there won’t be any burdensome collection calls. We’re friends, after all!]
[It simply means deducting it later from the wages of the day we work together again. That way it won’t weigh on your conscience, Roe Deer....]
He wants to hire me again.
[So. What do you think?]
......
For now.
“Brown, how are you even here?”
I had to buy some time.
I glanced at the suited host seated on the platform.
“This is a personal shopping space. Other customers shouldn’t be able to come in.”
[Come now, mass media isn’t a guest, it’s family! Oh, the warmth of everyday life brought by a TV in the living room.]
His gloved hands spread wide, polite and formal.
[This Brown is part of his friend’s family, sharing in his laughter and tears. Naturally, he also joins the shopping.]
[Do you doubt it? Then why don’t we ask the Personal Shopper here! Go on, explain — why am I present at this spot?]
The lizard’s voice added:
“This entity is part of the customer’s mental framework, materialized here to ensure the smooth progress of shopping.”
[There you have it! Of course, if Roe Deer coldly declared that this poor friend wasn’t welcome to accompany him, I would, alas, have no choice but to vanish....]
[But would you really say something so cruel?]
My head sank.
Brown was now speaking freely to me without the Kind Friend Doll as an intermediary...
Just like during that earlier Personal Shopping session, when my own contamination had manifested.
Since the restrictions of the Kind Friend Doll had been lifted — or perhaps after resummoning it — some deeper connection had clearly formed.
Even in Segwang Special City, where outside interference was cut off, he could still speak to me.
‘Has Brown’s “Kind Friend” persona simply become part of me?’
I couldn’t be sure. Either way, I felt a basic relief at understanding the situation and began analyzing it.
An advance?
‘No way.’
That implied my labor. I had no desire to work on the Talk Show again. The thought that my employment there would please him only made me queasier....
‘...But thoughts I don’t want read don’t seem to reach Brown, at least.’
I swallowed dryly, watching the host seated across from me, elegantly flexing his fingers.
No other way? Something else....
Ah!
‘What if I asked for the wages I should’ve been paid back when I worked as crew on the Late-Night Talk Show....’
That wouldn’t work!
I’d half-destroyed that studio with holy fire bombardment and fled. Honestly, the fact that he hadn’t shoved an invoice in my face when we met again might mean, from his point of view, he’d already “let me off easy”!
‘Then....’
[Take your time thinking, Roe Deer. We have all the time in the world....]
Haaah.
‘Might be better just to sell an organ....’
If my organs were even sellable. My head throbbed as I rubbed my temples — then a thought hit me.
“One more thing to check.”
I turned toward the lizard.
“Doesn’t the Space Mall only accept real, existing currency as payment?”
“Yes.”
The lizard nodded at once.
“Only real-world currencies, valid on Earth, can be used.”
“You mean not just won, but also dollars, euros, rupees, things like that?”
“Yes. Real-time solar calendar exchange rates apply.”
As I thought.
“Brown, did you hear—”
[Oh.]
[You’re thinking that the Curious Coins I pay wages in have no currency value here, so any money I give you would be useless... is that it, Roe Deer?]
Ah.
[Hah-hah, but surprising a fixed mindset is part of the fun of a show!]
[Now then — would you prefer crisp dollars or solid gold? I’ll pay whichever you like. Isn’t that the virtue of a good patron?]
“......”
I stiffly turned back to the lizard.
“Is that... possible?”
“Yes. However, in the case of dollar notes paid by this entity, a special exchange rate applies. Far less efficient than ordinary dollars.”
[Such a remark only stirs greater appetite for luxury consumption. Surprisingly talented merchants, these swordsmen.]
The lizard gave no reaction.
The host gladly rose to his feet.
[Now then, Roe Deer.]
[All obstacles are gone.]
“......”
At some point.
The suited host was leaning right beside me in my chair.
He extended his hand.
[Will you accept an advance from this Host, from the Late-Night Talk Show?]
...Wait.
Wait, that’s...
No, but if there’s no problem then maybe survival takes priority, and right now maybe I should just accept—calm down. Think as clearly as possible....
[Oh dear.]
[Just kidding!]
......
What?
[Just a little joke. An advance, really!]
[How hurtful that would be for a friend, don’t you think?]
His hand patted my arm neatly, just as he did while running the Talk Show — like encouraging a contestant.
[My friend once emptied his own pocket money to buy a bathtub for this plush body of mine. And if this great entertainer were to give that same friend nothing but an advance? Why, that would be headline news! Therefore....]
[For this shopping trip, I’ll cover the bill myself. As a gift. What do you say?]
“......”
[Accept my gift, friend.]
[Oh, glorious friendship!]
A sharp premonition hit me.
This.
‘If I screw this up, I’m dead.’
More dangerous than an advance.
This whole thing — the talk of an “advance” was a ploy to guide me to this point. So that when he said “I’ll gift it,” I’d fall into thinking, well then it’s fine, isn’t it?
......
But.
“All right. Just this once, then. Please.”
Refusing something necessary for survival out of fear would be stupid.
‘Let’s walk the tightrope properly.’
“Really, thank you.”
[Don’t mention it!]
[Now, charge it to my account—]
“But.”
I cut in.
“Getting it as a gift feels wrong... I’d rather borrow. Is that possible?”
[Hm?]
Not an advance — a loan.
‘It has to be settled as money.’
I had a gut feeling: leaving it as an emotional or vague future debt would be dangerous.
“I’ll repay within six months.”
I forced the biggest smile I could. Damn it.
“Money’s not something you give as a gift. If I want something as a gift, I’ll ask next time.”
......
After a sweaty silence—
[Very well, Roe Deer!]
...!
[But six months? There’s no need to rush. Oh, indeed, we have all the time in the world. We’ll remain friends, after all.]
“...Right. Thanks.”
Huuuh.
‘Done.’
I forced another smile, half-joking.
“And interest — legal rate, right?”
[Hah-hah! A friend would never charge interest. Just the principal.]
“Haha... thank you for that too.”
Haaah.
As he patted my shoulder again, the dazzling memories of the Late-Night Talk Show replayed in my head.
But all the same — I was grateful.
Because thanks to this, I was able to buy what I needed.
[Hooh. I can’t wait to see what marvelous escape episode Roe Deer will create with such a tiny item.]
That...
‘I’ll make sure of it.’
After Brown received the incomprehensible payment address from the lizard Personal Shopper and took whatever steps he did—
“Payment complete.”
The lizard declared so, and handed me the item.
“...Thank you. I’ll be back.”
“Yes, customer.”
And so, the shopping ended.
Soon after, I opened my eyes.
As if waking from a brief doze.
“...!”
While I’d been shopping, the empty platform was now filled with my companions, staring at me with nervous impatience.
I must have looked like I’d been hollowed out during the purchase.
“Agent Podo.”
“I bought it.”
I raised the item I’d barely managed to secure.
The two agents’ eyes widened with strange light.
It was—
Something dangling on a string.
Like the figures hanging from trees in that foggy concourse... yet the mood was the opposite.
A tiny persimmon-wood carving.
A slightly rough, fish-shaped folk ornament, tied to a bundle of white silk thread, swaying gently.
“A protective pollock.”
***
“Are you ready?”
“Yes, sir!”
Hearing the voices, Eunhaje lifted a hand toward his mouth — only to remember he was out of cigarettes, and let it drop.
His unintended abstinence had dragged on far too long, but none of that mattered compared to this situation.
They might die here.
Pooling whatever valuables they had, they’d handed the “plausible” plan to the youngest.
And astonishingly, Kim Soleum had closed his eyes for a moment... and come back holding something that truly worked.
“With this, we won’t have to borrow some other sacred force~. Right, Cheongdong?”
“...Yes.”
And not just any item — but the exact right one.
Even more surprising, he returned all the money and goods they’d pooled together.
—I paid another way.
“......”
Whether that could be trusted was another matter. But first they had to escape, then there’d be time to question him.
“Let’s move out.”
And so, with all discussion ended, the group set off toward the platform.
‘As for the team lineup....’
Not bad.
Mismatched, but workable.
At the very rear stood the scowling young man from Disaster Management.
Agent Cheongdong, was it?
Though Eunhaje teased him as a stiff old man, he actually had a decent character.
‘A little rigid, yes — but that’s the sign of someone less soaked in society’s filth, someone with a basically good heart.’
His distaste for Baekilmong was obvious, yet he held it back, maintained courtesy, and even showed empathy. His choice to take the rearguard felt like a kind of service spirit.
‘And paired with him... the government man.’
Agent Choi.
Near the front.
“Podo. Careful.”
Pretending calm, but Eunhaje could see the nerves of someone caught in a top-grade Baekilmong nightmare, full of civilians to protect.
It was clear he was trying to soothe and subtly guide Kim Soleum, whose stance remained neutral.
‘Like a cop offering candy to a juvenile delinquent.’
How Roe Deer had crafted such a killer spy persona that Choi was stuck in this role, Eunhaje had no idea — but he let it be. Besides, they were both smokers.
And next to him—
“Oh. The pollock works nicely.”
Deputy Lee Seonghae.
As expected of a Baekilmong elite.
Unhinged but competent.
Eunhaje had the sense that one slip of the tongue could turn him instantly hostile — but he’d lived too long to be overly rattled by that.
For now, the man was oddly friendly toward everyone.
Especially... toward Kim Soleum.
“......”
And Kim Soleum himself stood at the very front.
Carrying the bizarre ornament he’d secured: the protective pollock carving.
—It blocks misfortune within five paces until the pollock breaks. Since I bought it, I’ll carry it.
—Hey, usually something like that—
—There’s no “usually.” It’s mine, so I’ll hold it.
—......
‘Heh.’
Knows how to guard his own item.
That, plus the pragmatic instinct of a capable man who’d rather handle it himself.
Fastest promotions, pulling an A-rank Dream out of an irregular tale — he hadn’t lost his touch.
And so Kim Soleum bound each finger with strands of silk, ensuring he’d never drop the ornament, and led the way through the fog.
Then.
‘...!’
As he walked between the trees, mold began to creep over the dangling pollock.
As if rotting.
‘A sign it’s breaking down.’
Once it was covered, the hanging corpses and hallucinations would likely return.
The speed was... faster than expected, but it seemed it would last long enough to reach their goal.
‘Though since it was triggered once already, maybe it’s worse now.’
If they weren’t quick, someone might not make it to the stairs this time.
With that thought—
“Found it.”
“...!”
Using the glasslike device under the pollock’s protection, Agent Cheongdong scanned the area and spoke.
‘Good.’
Eunhaje had scouted possible locations based on his knowledge of subway structures, but this was sooner than expected.
“Move.”
The five of them surged forward, taking the shortest route.
Their target was—
“There.”
The transit card recharge machines.
—What do you think?
—The lights are on, and the announcements work fine. I think the electrical systems are still running.
And indeed.
Two recharge machines sat alone among the trees, their screens glowing.
“......”
Soft gasps escaped the group.
Then, with tension heavy, Eunhaje reached out.
‘Can’t make Soleum, holding the pollock, do it.’
He wasn’t holding a transit card anyway. Not that it mattered — expecting these machines to connect to card companies and deduct money would be too much in a nightmare.
They were after another function, the one written right on the machine:
Single-Use Ticket Issuance · Transit Card Recharge
Single-use tickets.
Five of them.
Clunk.
Clunk.
Clunk.
Thankfully, the machine swallowed the bills he fed it and spat out five single-use tickets.
‘A gamble whether it would accept cash.’
But luck was with them.
Eunhaje, the one who’d insisted we have to take a chance somewhere, grinned broadly.
“Let’s move.”
Shoving the change into his pocket just in case, he turned to Choi’s signal — their next destination in sight — and they hurried on.
The most important place of this search.
The ticket gates.
“......”
Like random set pieces in the fog, several gates stood, their lights on.
‘Haaah.’
Eunhaje caught his breath.
With no tools or prep, there was no way to exorcise this fog-soaked nightmare concourse.
Ending it, the so-called “closure” the agents spoke of, was a goal utterly out of reach.
So they had to clear it, Baekilmong-style.
And clearing meant...
—Usually, clearing a nightmare means escaping the place.
—Right.
—But we can’t just walk out.
The odds were sky-high that beyond the fog lay nothing but a Hellscape-level disaster.
But since this was a station, there was another way to leave.
—That leaves only the train.
The subway.
—The train passed without stopping. But there were conditions.
—...! It was because there were no passengers. Don’t tell me...
—Exactly, Agent Cheongdong.
“This way’s the front.”
Cheongdong determined the direction of the gates. Exchanging glances, Choi stepped forward first, tapped his single-use card, and passed through.
Beep.
—If we’re counted as passengers, let’s see what happens.
The others hurried after, one by one. When Kim Soleum, clutching the pollock, moved forward, the silence was almost tangible.
And once all five had passed through—
♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪♪
A sound began.
The announcement.
Echoing from the platform in the distance.
The train is arriving.
“......”
Passengers, please maintain etiquette and board safely.
No mention of non-stop service.
Which meant—
“Run.”
The group sprinted madly for the platform.