Chapter 271

I understand that the use of Darkness by the Daydream Research Team for manufacturing gear might seem peculiar. Equipment is generally designed to facilitate survival within a supernatural narrative, after all. It’s natural to question why a corporate research division would require such direct access, but the logic becomes clear once you witness it firsthand. One can see exactly how the ‘Joyful Laboratory’s Toy Maker’ serves the team’s needs and how it might provide a substitute for the physical form Deputy Manager Lee Seong-hae has lost.

“Very well. We shall plot a course for E07 and depart,” the leader declared.

“Understood, sir!” came the eager reply.

With that, the primary site for equipment fabrication in the Annex was established. The time had come to set out for our goal.

“Moving out now,” Section Chief Lee Jaheon announced.

“Right behind you,” we responded.

Without a second of uncertainty, the Section Chief began the trek. We trailed him, venturing into the obsidian depths of the hallway. This was the Annex, Basement Level 3, the zone designated for Darkness containment. We pressed forward with care, making a conscious effort to disregard the unsettling sounds leaking from the heavy steel portals lining the path.

“Halt.”

We reached a terminus marked with an EXIT sign. An emergency portal stood before us. Our strategy was to utilize these specific stairs to ascend straight to Basement Level 2. Because we lacked the formal credentials to access that level directly, our plan involved infiltrating from an adjacent floor in total secrecy. The stairs here in the Annex were distinct from the cursed, ‘No Entry’ stairs found in the Main Building’s Pleasant Research Institute.

I recalled that the <Darkness Exploration Record> contained several accounts of security units using this path for maneuvers or escape. While it wasn’t a standard route and was prone to supernatural interference, it wasn’t impassable.

Section Chief Lee Jaheon raised a hand in warning. “I’m opening the way.”

Typically, this exit would seal tight during a breach and trigger a loud notification if tampered with. However, by ‘chance,’ the alarm system was non-functional. Even if someone possessed the unnatural strength required to force the door, no siren would wail.

*Creeeeeak… crunch.*

I imagined the sound the heavy door made as Section Chief Lee Jaheon applied pressure to open it.

“Noruya?”

The problem was, I couldn’t see any of this. It was just as I suspected: I am blind to the exits of the Annex, much like the elevators. As a special department staff member acting as a floor security manager, my perception is restricted; I am barred from seeing the ways to leave a level. It is a disorienting sensation to lose sight of something that was once plain to see. To my eyes, the exit didn’t exist; it was merely a continuation of the smoky, dark wall.

> **Recommendation:** Position yourself in front of 130666.

If others were present, I could simply follow their lead.

“Understood,” I thought. Assistant Manager Eun Haje stood directly ahead of me.

“Watch your step,” someone cautioned.

“Whoa!”

Section Chief Lee Jaheon, having seemingly secured the damaged door behind us, hoisted the wheelchair with ease. He crossed the threshold, and the rest of the group vanished into what looked like solid wall to me. I followed, ‘phasing’ through the obstruction. To my senses, it felt like stepping into a limitless abyss.

“Are you alright?”

**Positive.**

As long as my companions remained visible, my inability to see the stairs didn’t matter. The ascent began. I utilized my smoke to blink forward, bypassing my paralyzed legs and reappearing constantly beside the moving group. In my mind, I visualized the architecture. Usually, such stairs spiral upward, completing a half-turn between levels. One would expect to find the next floor after a rotation or two.

We walked in silence. Upward, and upward still.

“There isn’t a door… we should have reached it by now,” someone whispered.

“Quiet,” came the sharp response.

The dimensions of the stairwell were clearly warped. However, I offered my guidance.

> **Recommendation:** Continue the ascent.

The situation didn’t feel inherently lethal yet. I remembered a similar entry in the records regarding a containment failure of Qterw-E-352. Two agents from Field Investigation Team F had spent one hour and twenty-one minutes navigating these very stairs to evade an entity.

Beside me, Baek Saheon hissed a quiet curse but kept moving. Eventually, the steady rhythm of footsteps ceased.

“We’ve arrived.”

A sign read: **B2F**.

“Basement Level 2 emergency portal. Journey time: 12 minutes, 53 seconds,” a voice noted.

“It says ‘Access Restricted, Under Security Team Jurisdiction,'” another pointed out.

The door was plastered with the Security Team’s seals. In this state of ’emergency,’ the Annex exits were locked down from the inside. Fortunately, we had an inside contact for this level.

“I’ll signal him,” Section Chief Lee Jaheon said.

*Knock, knock-knock, knock.*

He struck the door in the specific cadence derived from the Groom Training Ghost Story.

*Click.*

The door cracked open. A pair of jaundiced, predatory eyes peered through the gap, scanning us. Finding what they looked for, the door swung wide.

“Get in… stay silent…”

We slipped inside, holding our breath. My vision returned to normal as we entered the hallway. This was the familiar second basement of the Annex.

[The layout is as monotonous as the floor below,] a voice echoed in my mind.

The primary difference was the state of the environment. [There was no call to decorate with such filth!]

The hallway was a gallery of violence. Black sludge coated the tiles, deep gouges scarred the walls, and tattered yellow charms hung limply. There was stardust, shredded fabric, and unsettling smiley-face drawings—the scars of a Security Team ‘clean-up’ operation.

J3, the Security Chief, adjusted his cap. “Other units are… ‘handling’ things that way. Do not go there.”

He had risked his position to open this door, ensuring we took a path that avoided his colleagues. He was operating solo. He was known for his extreme competence, often tasked with holding entire sectors alone.

“Are you the only one on duty here, Chief?”

“Yes…”

We identified our target location, and he gave a curt nod. “I will lead. Do not… activate the hallucination.” He looked down. “It might draw unwanted attention. Just stay quiet.”

We complied. I brought up the rear, my senses extended for any sign of a threat. J3 moved with the confidence of a predator, his flashlight cutting through the gloom, never hesitating as he navigated the labyrinth.

“Hold…”

He would pause, we would freeze. He would signal, and we would advance. After a tense journey through several junctions, we reached it.

**E-07.** Our destination. The ghost story.

“Wait here…”

The Security Chief swiped his card. The door hissed open.

“Hoo.”

Stepping inside felt like stepping onto a movie set. It was a meticulously crafted replica of a nighttime city street. Under the glow of a lone lamp stood a quaint, weathered shop. A ‘Special Sale’ poster was visible through the grime of the window, though the ‘Closed’ sign was turned out. Behind the glass sat the merchandise.

“They’re all dolls,” someone noted.

Indeed. The display was filled with knitted dolls modeled after folklore and fairy tales. They had intricate yarn hair and glittering gemstone eyes that caught the light.

—

## **Darkness Exploration Record / Ghost Story** **[Joyful Laboratory’s Toy Maker]** **ID Code:** Qterw-E-07 **Classification:** A supernatural entity manifesting as an antique toy boutique. **Function:** Specializes in bespoke knit dolls. It can produce one ‘birthday gift’ per day given a name, birth date, and physical descriptions (hair/eye color). **Condition:** Must be kept in a permanent ‘night’ state to remain at Twilight Grade. If ‘daylight’ is introduced, ■■ ■■ occurs. **History:** A legacy asset of Daydream Inc., used extensively for research and development.

A ‘Pleasant Research Institute’ relic held since the company’s inception. The thought felt heavy. Regardless, we had a job to do.

“Let’s move.”

We entered the simulated alley and reached the shop door. Following the protocol, we knocked.

*Knock, knock, knock.*

“I need a birthday gift urgently. Are you still open for business?”

A lightbulb flickered to life above us. The door unlocked with a soft click. We entered a room that smelled of age—mold, old wood, and oxidizing iron. The only source of real light was a machine resembling a large vending machine.

“Should we begin?”

“Yes.”

Deputy Manager Lee Seong-hae rolled forward. The ‘payment’ for this machine was a specific document.

> **Recipient Information:**
> **Name:** Lee Seonghae
> **DOB:** May 20th
> **Hair:** White
> **Eyes:** Black

Providing real data felt risky, but the historical safety of the Toy Maker suggested the risk was minimal. She fed the paper into the slot.

*Thump.*

The machine spat it back out.

“What? Is it broken?”

A red light flashed with a message: `Under Repair – Contact Researcher for assistance.`

The group was confused. I remembered records of the machine failing—usually after a fraudulent application—but it generally fixed itself over several weeks. We didn’t have weeks.

“Did we do something wrong?”

“No, we just turned it in. It must have been down before we arrived.”

We looked toward J3 for answers, but he remained outside the shop. I noticed something on the machine: a rectangular indentation. It looked familiar.

I pulled out an item I had found in the Main Building’s basement: the ID card of **Lee Heoun**, a Pleasant Researcher. I pressed it against the mark.

`Hello, Researcher!`

A braille-like blueprint on the machine glowed. Lights danced across the schematic as a self-diagnostic ran.

`Diagnostics complete! Repair required at indicated point.`

A red dot appeared on the map. I inspected the physical machine at that spot and saw a foreign object wedged in the gears. Using my smoke, I extracted a rusted, ancient-looking earring. It looked like a relic from a burial mound, completely out of place in a toy shop.

`Repair complete. Resuming normal operation.`

“Noruya, what was that?”

I showed them the earring but urged them to continue. We were on the clock.

“Right! Thank you, Noru!”

Lee Seong-hae resubmitted her form. This time, it was accepted. The machine played a melodic music box tune and asked for a size.

“Life-sized,” she requested.

The machine roared into life with sounds of grinding, cutting, and stitching. Seconds later, the gift slid down the rail. It was a knit doll that was a perfect replica of Lee Seong-hae, down to the last measurement and strand of white hair. Its eyes were green-tinted black zirconia.

The doll sat up.

`<Hello?>` it chirped. `<I feel a bit strange, but I’m happy to be here with you!>`

Silence met its greeting. It turned to look at Lee Seong-hae in her wheelchair.

`<Wait… why do I look like this? Why is there another me over there… Ah.>`

*Rip.*

Section Chief Lee Jaheon reached out and tore the tag from the doll’s head. Instantly, the light left its eyes. It slumped over, a mere object once more.

The records state these dolls mimic the recipient perfectly, but they are not ‘human’ by supernatural standards. They are temporary tools.

“I’m taking what I need,” Lee Seong-hae said, detaching the doll’s legs.

I watched in a stunned, heavy silence. The others seemed used to mimics, but I felt a deep chill. Was it just a copy, or was there a soul in there for those few seconds? I pushed the thought away. I watched as she fitted her own legs into the knitted limbs.

She stood up, rising from the wheelchair. “It works perfectly!”

The doll’s limbs obeyed her will. It was a success.

“Are you going to try it?” Assistant Manager Eun Haje asked, looking at me. “Noruya, you could get legs here too.”

I pointed to a warning sign in the shadows.

> **Usage Prohibited:** 130666
> **Notice:** This toy is for the use of modern Earthlings. For safety reasons, aliens, extra-dimensional beings, non-human intelligences, deities, or any other non-human entities are barred from use. 🙂

“That’s unfortunate,” someone muttered.

It seemed to be a recurring theme with Pleasant Research Institute technology—it only recognized ‘standard’ humans. I nodded and we prepared to leave. Lee Seong-hae was beaming as she walked out. J3 was still leaning against the door, but something was wrong.

[Your state is quite unusual!] my inner voice noted.

The Security Chief was staring intensely at the floor. I sent a plume of smoke toward him.

**Concern:** J3’s current status.

“I am fine…” he said, finally looking up.

But as he did, a third eye manifested on his temple, spinning wildly before fixing its gaze on a ‘Red Riding Hood’ doll in the shop window. His presence turned jagged and violent.

“We… are leaving now… right?”

He turned away, reverting to his sluggish, gaunt self. I used my smoke to cloud the shop from his view, helping him maintain his composure. He opened the steel door to the hallway.

There was someone there. Or something.

It was a figure in the shape of a woman, but she was adorned with far too many jewels. Her body wasn’t flesh; it was fired clay—a Porcelain Figurine. It stood motionless and out of place in the grimy corridor. I knew instantly it was a ghost story that had escaped containment.

I moved to push J3 back and shut the door before the others saw.

“Hngh!”

A muffled sound came from within the clay figure. My blood ran cold. It was a human voice trapped inside.

“Hmph! Hmph-hmph!”

I recognized that voice. It was Ms. Kang Yihak.

Would you like me to continue the paraphrase for the next chapter or analyze the significance of the earring found in the machine?