Chapter 88

Seo Moonchan and Mok Saehwa were fanatics devoted to CEO Cha.

To earn the trust of a man who trusted no one, they had voluntarily written contracts staking their own lives and presented them to him.

Contracts created with Trial items could bind every aspect of an Adaptee, depending on how their clauses were written.

The fact that they had drafted such contracts with their own hands and offered them to him was exactly why CEO Cha trusted only those two directors without reservation.

Since they were the people supporting my favorite character in every possible way, I liked Seo Moonchan and Mok Saehwa too.

…Just not like this.

It didn’t look like Lieutenant Won Taebeom could handle both directors from Paseong while carrying me in one arm.

The directors seemed to know it too. They already looked like they’d won before the fight had even started.

Just then, a system window appeared.

‘Seo Moonchan’ and ‘Mok Saehwa’ are characters that can be registered. Would you like to register them?

The sudden prompt made me blink.

…Wait. You stayed quiet when CEO Cha was standing right in front of me.

‘Cha■■’ cannot be registered yet.

I had secretly hoped the system would reveal CEO Cha’s real name, but it was still censored.

Why couldn’t he be registered? Why was even his name hidden?

Perhaps sensing my curiosity, the system offered an unusually helpful explanation.

You think that if you completely digest ■■■■, you may be able to register ‘Cha■■’.

The problem was that I couldn’t read the censored part.

Digest what?

It almost felt like the system knew I wouldn’t understand anyway, so it didn’t bother explaining properly.

Considering its track record, I couldn’t help becoming suspicious.

What about Lieutenant Won Taebeom?

You judge that it is still a little too early to fill a slot with ‘Won Taebeom.’

He is one who follows his convictions.

What was that supposed to mean?

That he wouldn’t listen to me?

The system gave no further explanation.

Instead—

Current available registration slots: 6

I already had Je Hyun-oh, Mo Haein, and Kwak Hanmuk occupying three slots, meaning I now had a total of nine.

It had originally been only three.

I’d gained quite a lot.

Still, I had absolutely no intention of registering anyone.

The whole “real-name registration” incident had happened only recently.

You believe that, as a Young God seeking to improve your abilities, a little embarrassment is acceptable.

I absolutely do not.

And it wasn’t “a little” embarrassment, either.

The system really was like a divine being.

It had no understanding whatsoever of ordinary human circumstances.

While I was silently arguing with the system, Mok Saehwa smiled sweetly and said something that completely clashed with her chubby cheeks.

“Lieutenant Won. This is our first time fighting each other, isn’t it? Don’t worry. We’ll keep it to about four weeks in the hospital.”

Won Taebeom didn’t answer.

Meanwhile, I desperately searched for some solution.

If a member of Field Team 2 ended up hospitalized for a month because of me, I’d never be able to face Captain Mo again.

Isn’t there some way around this…?

Talking things out would obviously be the best option.

Maybe I should at least ask to see this contract they kept talking about.

Not because I intended to join Paseong.

I was just… curious.

Seo Moonchan turned to look at me.

His eyes sparkled as if he’d discovered some legendary creature.

Despite that, his greeting was impeccably polite.

“Goyo-nim. I’m Seo Moonchan of Paseong.”

I nodded lightly.

“I’m Han Goyo.”

“We’re not trying to bully you, Goyo-nim. We’d simply appreciate it if you’d sign this contract. Think you could do that?”

Perfect.

I immediately took him up on the offer.

“Please show me the contract.”

Seo Moonchan snapped his fingers with a smooth smile.

A document appeared in front of me and fluttered downward.

I instinctively caught it.

Please don’t tell me this is the life-pledge contract they gave CEO Cha…

The instant I read it, my eyes widened.

Thankfully, it wasn’t.

Though honestly…

…the contents were somehow even worse.

Every single clause was complete hell.

Article 1. Purpose

The purpose of this contract is to permanently transfer all rights regarding Party B’s existence, soul, body, and posthumous state to Party A, thereby establishing Party A’s absolute dominion.

Article 2. Ownership of the Body

Upon execution of this contract, every cell, organ, drop of blood, and bone composing Party B’s body shall become the private property of Party A.

Without Party A’s permission, Party B may not cut, damage, or otherwise alter even a single strand of hair or clipping of fingernail.

Article 3. Ownership of the Mind

Party B shall think only of Party A twenty-four hours a day.

Party B may harbor no reason or negative emotion that could threaten the well-being of either Party A or Party B.

Article 4. Contract Period and Termination

This contract shall remain in effect permanently.

The death of Party B shall not constitute grounds for termination.

After death, all rights concerning Party B’s corpse and soul shall also belong exclusively to Party A.

This contract may be terminated solely through Party A’s unilateral declaration.

Party B possesses absolutely no right to request termination.

Article 5. Special Provisions

If Party B considers any clause of this contract unreasonable, that very mental state shall itself constitute a breach of contract and be subject to immediate punishment.

Naturally, Party A was CEO Cha.

Party B was me.

Reading beside me, Dominic sounded genuinely impressed.

“…This is rather remarkable. Are contracts like this common on your planet, Roasted Chestnut?”

Absolutely not, Dominic-ssi.

CEO Cha is just completely insane.

The contract had finally pushed me into mentally cursing my favorite character.

I honestly couldn’t imagine what kind of mindset it took to write something like this.

The reason he’d seemed pleased when I kept staring at him earlier…

…must have been because he’d been looking forward to making me sign this slave contract.

From behind me, Won Taebeom—who had also glanced at it—offered a brief comment.

“Trial Response Agency is better.”

For once, I wholeheartedly agreed.

At least Director Jang Seokyun’s trainee contract had looked like a normal legal document.

Holding the slave contract, I looked back at Paseong’s two directors.

Mok Saehwa gazed at me with sparkling anticipation.

“CEO Cha wrote it himself. Isn’t it a wonderful contract?”

“…You’re serious?”

Seo Moonchan burst into laughter at my question.

“I completely understand why you’d be shocked. But once you join Paseong, you’ll realize how joyful it is to belong to CEO Cha.”

“We’ll treat you incomparably better than the Trial Response Agency.”

“We’re planning to make you a director right away…”

He went on listing dazzling benefits.

High salary.

Excellent welfare.

All kinds of privileges.

After listening to everything, I reached only one conclusion.

…So I’d basically become CEO Cha’s pet hamster.

I’d spend my days running on a wheel inside the cage he’d built for me, munching sunflower seeds…

…and occasionally be let out to clear a Trial.

Unfortunately, I needed the freedom to close seven Trials within two months.

There was absolutely no way I was signing CEO Cha’s contract.

The problem was…

The directors clearly intended to make me sign by force.

I lowered my voice.

“Lieutenant Won.”

His calm eyes looked down at me beneath thick brows.

“Go ahead.”

“I think… if we can hold out for about eleven more minutes, we’ll be fine.”

There had to be a reason Samra had specified exactly 15 minutes and 37 seconds for the inverse-phase field.

Most likely, that was how long it would take Colonel Je Hyun-oh to arrive.

More than four minutes had already passed.

That meant about eleven minutes remained.

Won Taebeom understood immediately.

“If we’re lucky… it’s possible.”

Which was basically another way of saying it wasn’t.

He only had one gauntlet equipped because he was carrying me.

His offense and defense were both restricted.

Surviving eleven minutes like this would be extremely difficult.

Still…

I thought it was worth gambling.

After a brief hesitation, I spoke.

“Lieutenant Won… if you don’t mind… could you lend me the other gauntlet? I’ll support you.”

Won Taebeom stared at me.

That look somehow reminded me of Mo Haein.

I hurriedly explained.

“Based on what’s written in the contract, my body appears to be extremely valuable to CEO Cha.”

“The directors can’t kill me… and they probably can’t seriously injure me, either.”

In other words…

I could act as Won Taebeom’s shield.

And maybe, if possible, help attack too.

“And I’ll brief you on the directors’ weapons.”

That clearly caught everyone off guard.

Won Taebeom’s eyebrows twitched.

Even the two directors watching us looked intrigued.

Paseong’s directors rarely took missions themselves.

Everyone knew they were powerful.

But almost no one knew what weapons they used.

Because anyone who encountered them…

…died.

Only team leaders and above possessed that information.

Naturally, Won Taebeom had no idea how they fought.

Yet I was offering to explain it.

“…”

He studied me for a long moment.

Having nearly joined the Special Mission Team before, he already knew I wasn’t ordinary.

Finally, he handed me the remaining gauntlet.

I slipped it onto my right hand.

Paladin’s Oath (Right Hand): Where the silver hand reaches, despair shall not exist. Where the silver hand remains, evil shall find no foothold.

A perfect description for Lieutenant Won.

Flexing my fingers, I began explaining.

“Director Seo’s weapon, Mischievous Predator, is a living sword.”

The weapon itself was practically a monster.

Its attacks were irregular because the blade could split open like a mouth and bite its target with rows of teeth.

It was easiest to imagine it as a monster whose mouth happened to be shaped like a sword.

“And only Director Seo can neutralize the poison stored in those teeth.”

Then I continued.

“Director Mok’s weapon, Blooming Funeral, causes flowers to bloom wherever its bullets strike, draining the target’s life force.”

The more life it absorbed, the stronger Mok Saehwa became.

When all the bullets were spent, the flower serving as its magazine would wither.

Plucking the dead flower caused a fresh bud to bloom—reloading the weapon.

“The worst-case scenario is being poisoned by Director Seo while Director Mok drains your life force.”

“The life-drain accelerates the poison by increasing blood circulation.”

“We absolutely have to stop at least one of those.”

Looking up at Won Taebeom, I said,

“Use me as your shield, Lieutenant.”

His expression remained unreadable.

He was a frontline tank by nature.

Someone who always stood at the very front.

Hearing me volunteer to become his shield…

…must have felt strange.

Then applause echoed through the street.

“Wow…”

“Goyo-nim.”

“I’d heard rumors, but it’s really true.”

“You seriously know everything.”

Mok Saehwa clapped enthusiastically, her eyes shining.

“I really want to bring you to Paseong.”

Then she smiled brightly, little eye-smiles forming beneath her eyes.

“But, Goyo-nim.”

“Our medical treatment is amazing.”

“We’re really good at reattaching severed limbs.”

That sounded disturbingly similar to Ham Jiwol.

She raised her rifle.

And fired directly at me.

Bang!

Instead of smoke, flower petals scattered from the muzzle.

Won Taebeom dodged while carrying me—

but Seo Moonchan was already there.

His toothed sword slashed downward.

Clang! Clang!

Steel rang as gauntlet and blade collided again and again.

Won Taebeom tried to push the sword back with his gauntlet.

Seo Moonchan only grinned, gripping the sword tighter.

Fighting one-handed while carrying me put Won Taebeom at a clear disadvantage.

In the instant he evaded Mok Saehwa’s bullet—the toothed sword slipped past his guard.

It lunged straight toward me.

The blade split wide like a gaping mouth, exposing rows of razor-sharp teeth.

Its target…

…was my forearm.

I clenched my teeth and raised my gauntlet to block.

Then—

“…!”

Seo Moonchan.

Won Taebeom.

And I.

All three of us froze in shock.

Just before its teeth could bite into my flesh…

…the sword quietly closed its mouth instead.