Beep. Beep. The alarm signaling the start of the workday rang.
I had to get up… but my body felt like it weighed a ton. I’d already felt the muscle aches yesterday, even before visiting my parents. Now it seemed the aftermath of the demonstration conference was finally catching up to me.
“Seo Suho. Time to wake up.”
As I kept ignoring the alarm, I felt someone stir beside the bed. A familiar hand gently brushed my forehead.
I grabbed his wrist and pulled him into my arms. Then I drifted back to sleep again. From somewhere far off, I could hear the sound of a soft, deflating laugh.
“You’re completely out of it.”
The alarm stopped abruptly. Min Yugeon wrapped me up in the blanket like a cocoon and lifted me as if I were a statue. Holding me just like that, he carried me out of the bedroom and into the living room.
“Wake up properly here.”
He set me down in front of the window, where the curtains had been pulled aside. Then he disappeared—looked like he went into the kitchen.
Curled up like a ball, I blinked slowly. The sudden brightness and the hardness of the floor against the back of my head helped me come to my senses a little. Letting out a faint groan, I pushed myself into a sitting position.
The view outside the window filled my eyes. A neatly landscaped residential district, people jogging. Life on the ship was always peaceful.
I slowly squirmed out of the blanket.
“Wow, finally up!”
I turned at the overly dramatic voice. Min Yugeon stood there with his broad frame, wearing an adorably small apron.
“Come on, let’s eat.”
“…Okay.”
Staggering slightly, I followed behind him. A simple breakfast had been set on the table.
“Thanks for waking me.”
Sitting down, I expressed my gratitude. Min Yugeon took a seat across from me and puffed out his chest.
“Of course, of course. You’d have been late without me.”
“Yeah.”
“But lately—yesterday too—you keep thanking me.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“What’s with you? Why all of a sudden?”
“Because I’m genuinely thankful.”
What a thing to question. Embarrassed, I stuffed food in my mouth to signal that I didn’t want to keep talking.
But Min Yugeon kept chattering away.
“Don’t just say thanks. When you’re sick, say you’re sick. When you’re feeling down, say you’re feeling down. Just tell me. Honestly, it stings sometimes. You were always like that before, but after you joined the lab, you barely talk about yourself anymore…”
I froze at his grumbling words.
…He said it made him feel left out.
“Every time my mom asks how you’re doing, I just say you’re the same as ever, and she looks like she’s about to cry, telling me to take good care of you. You’re exactly the type who looks like someone has to stick close and fuss over you.”
Someone like… me?
He smiled brightly as he added that last part.
Letting out a breathless chuckle, I fell silent at the thought of Lee Minha.
According to Min Yugeon, Lee Minha worried about me a lot and often asked how I was doing. But ironically, since the death of my parents, I hadn’t seen her even once. Whenever I visited Min Yugeon’s home after pulling myself together, Lee Minha always made sure not to be there. And even when I tried reaching out directly, she wouldn’t pick up. Through that, I became certain that she was intentionally avoiding a situation where she’d have to face me.
Whatever the reason may have been—if I’d done something so wrong that she had to cut ties—then I couldn’t keep making her uncomfortable. I stopped contacting her and no longer visited Min Yugeon’s house.
Unaware that Lee Minha had been ignoring my calls, Min Yugeon never suspected a thing. He still visited home regularly and brought me news about her.
Of course, he never once mentioned Min Sanghan.
“Thanks for the meal.”
“You have work this morning too?”
“Yeah. I’m on duty the day after tomorrow.”
After cleaning up the table, we both finished getting ready for work. Since we had to leave at around the same time, we stepped out together, parting ways soon after. Min Yugeon walked to his post, but I had to take the train. Inside the ship, aside from walking, the circulating train was the only mode of transport available to residents.
From the speakers installed along the streets, the clear chirping of birds played. Most people, like me, paused at the platform while rushing about their mornings. Once the train arrived—right on time—we boarded, and everyone took their seats in quiet comfort.
The research lab was located in the most secluded part of the ship. Even after getting off the train, it still took a considerable walk to reach.
“Good morning.”
“Morning, sir.”
As I entered the restricted zone, a thorough identity check followed. Familiar soldiers greeted me, and I exchanged greetings naturally before passing through the lab entrance.
A clean, spacious communal lobby spread out before me. The lab was divided into two main sections—Building A, where the primary research took place, and Building B, where special projects were carried out. I was heading toward Building B when I ran into two people in lab coats.
It was my team members, Lee Seo-rim and Seol Young-jun.
“Team Leader! You’re here!”
“Ah, yawn… Hello.”
Unlike Lee Seo-rim, who greeted me with bright energy, Seol Young-jun looked completely exhausted. I gave him a quick nod while eyeing him closely. Why is he moving like a zombie? Did something happen?
“Looks like everyone came in early.”
“Well, we’re still new. Gotta be quick on our feet.”
Lee Seo-rim answered with enthusiasm, and Seol Young-jun nodded along in agreement.
Just as she said, it hadn’t been long since they joined the team. Up until then, I hadn’t exactly been someone who deserved the title of team leader.
The project I was overseeing had been mine alone.
Years ago, I’d revived my parents’ Military Beast Project and selected S8A152—assigned the highest classification in the entire lab—as the subject. Since no other researcher could get near him without triggering aggression, and I was the only one he didn’t react violently toward, there wasn’t much need for additional personnel. I simply coordinated with others like Equipment Team Leader Choi, who had general responsibilities across the lab, and everything ran smoothly without any real setbacks.
But after joining the lab, Lee Seo-rim and Seol Young-jun went through the director to get to me, and the three of us ended up as a team. I couldn’t bring myself to reject them—their eyes had sparkled as they told me they’d chosen this path after learning about the Military Beast Project.
It wasn’t like there hadn’t been other applicants before. Most were experienced, but their true intentions had been all too transparent, completely unlike these two. I had politely declined them. It was obvious they weren’t interested in the project itself—they were just looking to escape the grueling workload in Building A and transfer to what they assumed would be the more laid-back environment of Building B.
…Some of them even blatantly expressed their hopes of taking it easy here.
Of course, the workload in Building A was undeniably intense. That’s where the lab’s original mission—studying monsters to develop better countermeasures—was actively pursued.
One of their most notable achievements was the development of tranquilizers. These tranquilizers weren’t only used in research; they were essential to the Reconnaissance Unit as well. That unit left the ship for extended periods to explore ground regions that might be reclaimable from monsters, often engaging in combat due to the nature of their missions. The squad that killed Rai also belonged to that unit. They used tranquilizer rounds to buy time before either attacking or capturing monsters.
The issue was that producing the tranquilizers required materials that were difficult to cultivate onboard. And the stronger the monster, the more tranquilizer was needed—so it couldn’t be supplied in unlimited amounts. That was the critical limitation.
Besides that, the researchers in Building A were also working on chemically based offensive strategies. In a very real sense, they played a vital role in boosting the military’s and the ship’s overall chances of survival.
Watching the A-Building researchers shuffle around like zombies even though it was still early morning, I turned back to my own team.
“No need to come in that early.”
I tossed out the comment as my gaze flicked toward Seol Young-jun. How early had he come in to look that dead on his feet? Lee Seo-rim seemed fine, though.
Sensing my gaze, Seol Young-jun blinked at me.
“Is there something you wanted to say to me?”
“You look really tired.”
“…Ah.”
He shut his mouth, glancing up at me like he wasn’t sure how to respond. I must’ve hit a nerve.
“Well, I didn’t sleep well…”
He finally answered after some hesitation. Lee Seo-rim, standing next to him, nodded and chimed in.
“He says he hasn’t been able to sleep properly for two nights since the demo. Keeps having nightmares where S8A152 eats him alive.”
“Hey, you—!”
Seol Young-jun gave her a look full of betrayed frustration, clearly wondering why she’d say that out loud. Lee Seo-rim silently mouthed What? as if she didn’t get why it mattered. The two had been friends even before joining, and it showed in how casually they treated each other.
“Seriously though, it’s kind of funny. You’re the one having nightmares, but Team Leader was the one who actually went into the cage.”
She clicked her tongue, and Seol Young-jun glared at her with bloodshot eyes.
“It just keeps popping into my head, okay?”
“Then don’t think about S8A152 when you’re home.”
“Trying not to think about something is basically thinking about it.”
“…”
…Not wrong.
