Surviving Restructuring

“Delivery’s here.”

The customer came out to receive the order. “Oh! Yes, thank you so much!”

The deliveryman studied his face. “And your name, please?”

“My name’s Choi Jae-Hyuk!”

Choi Jae-Hyuk. A dark-skinned man clad in flashy armor. That matches the order, thought the delivery man.

Pressed for time, the deliveryman said in a practiced tone, handing over a receipt and a pen, “Thank you for confirming. Please check the items and sign here.”

Just as Jae-Hyuk reached for the pen, he asked quietly, “I heard Hyungnim asked for something special to be included... Ah! Is this it?”

“Yes. This is the item.” Reaching into his coat, the deliveryman pulled out a brown paper envelope he had kept separate from the rest of the order. “It’s called the Sage’s Grass.”

The envelope was ordinary, a little longer than the length of a palm. At a glance, there was no way to tell whether it contained socks, herbs, or something else entirely.

The deliveryman barely gripped it between his fingertips, as though he didn’t want his large, rough hands anywhere near it. “I sealed it up, but you should still handle it carefully.”

“Ah, yes! I’ll keep that in mind!” Jae-Hyuk said seriously.

The herb itself wasn’t particularly valuable. It wasn’t poisonous, nor was it some deadly plant that could kill someone if eaten.

[Sage’s Grass]

- A mysterious herb cultivated by an unknown sage said to have comprehended all the truths of the world.

- Upon consumption, the user instantly enters a State of Sagehood, temporarily transcending worldly desires and troubles both mentally and physically.

- However, be cautious as continuous consumption may result in a permanent state.

- Duration: 30 minutes

Even so, it remained a terrifying herb. In fact, that was precisely why every male employee refused to cultivate or harvest it, making it an extremely rare herb.

“Well then, I’ll deliver it right away! Thanks again for your hard work!” Jae-Hyuk declared.

With a determined look, he hurried off toward his team leader, clutching the envelope.

The deliveryman clicked his tongue regretfully. “Ah! I forgot to ask what they’re planning to use it for...”

“Probably on someone they want to get revenge on,” another deliveryman said with a shrug, as though the answer were obvious. “Quit chatting and unload the cargo. At this rate, the sun will set before we’re done.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The sweaty labor began.

“Ha, this never ends.”

All kinds of items including food supplies, household goods, disposable weapons, and equipment were stacked up like a mountain. The sheer volume made it seem as if the people inside the castle were preparing for a long period of seclusion.

“Did a war break out or something?”

It was a reasonable guess, but the deliveryman who heard it snorted. “A war? Of course not.”

Fweeeet!

After all, what filled the castle wasn’t the tension of battle, but the kind of sharp whistle blasts one would hear at a children’s field day.

“Fall in on the right!”

At a single whistle, dozens of employees cleared the center of the courtyard.

Fweeeet!

“Break formation and assemble in five columns! Move!”

Two whistles, and the workers snapped into perfectly straight lines. Their movements were flawless, precise, and disciplined.

“What are they doing over there?” one deliveryman wondered aloud.

Deliverymen usually didn’t bother asking about their customers. Not because of lofty principles about protecting privacy, nor because they believed work hours should be free of unnecessary thoughts, but simply because they were too busy to care.

“Is it some kind of track and field day?”

“Maybe the company’s holding an athletic meet or something?”

However, the sight that greeted them was not one commonly seen in a workplace. Curiosity bubbled up, and before they realized it, the two deliverymen had stopped moving entirely.

“Huh? Hey, look over there!” One of them suddenly pointed. “Why is there a pile of rocks stacked up like that?”

The other followed the direction of his finger and narrowed his eyes.

“Rocks?” he muttered, then made another guess. “Ah! Wait, aren’t those letters?”

“Letters?”

They squinted at the shapes formed by the neatly arranged stones from afar.

“What does it say?”

***

The letters were a mess. Everyone was trying their best to write something, but the system’s translation function didn’t bother interpreting piles of rocks or gestures. Even so, what they were trying to say was clear.

“Clock.”

“Yup, it’s clock,” someone agreed.

When Eun-Ho had told them to express it using gestures, they raised their wrists and tapped them. Then, they stretched both arms straight out at right angles, with one arm slowly ticking forward, second by second.

Every group was pointing to the same word: a clock.

“That does seem right,” someone muttered.

“Why would they need to buy a clock?”

The answer they uncovered seemed far too ordinary, especially after all the system’s interference and talk of taboos and forbidden information.

“It must mean something else,” Eun-Ho said. “The word clock probably carries a meaning we don’t know about.”

Otherwise, none of it made sense.

As the team members nodded thoughtfully at his explanation, Ji-Eun tilted her head in thought before raising her voice. “Hmm... I actually thought it would be settlement.”

She was referring to the yellow settlement statements that arrived on a regular schedule. If the amount had increased a thousandfold, it would explain why the union members were acting as if their lives were on the line. It would also explain how they knew the exact deadlines.

Eun-Ho had considered the same possibility at first. “But if that were the case, we would’ve been able to hear it.”

“Ah, right. That’s information we already know too,” Ji-Eun admitted.

Their team had experienced it several times already. There was no way the system would treat that as forbidden knowledge.

There’s something else we’re missing.

With that thought, Eun-Ho turned away.

Nearby, Yeon Bo-Ra was crouched by the wall, carefully scanning the ground below in case they had overlooked something. She straightened up with a groan. “Ooof, my back.”

“You’re already complaining about your back at your age?” Eun-Ho teased.

“It’s just stiff, that’s all! I’ve gotten really strong lately, you know?” Bo-Ra protested while placing both hands on her hips, lifting her chin proudly.

Even though she had been coughing up blood not long ago.

Seeing her act so spirited now made Eun-Ho chuckle under his breath. “Everything says clock, right?”

“Ah, yes. Except for one group.”

“One group?”

Instead of pointing at the union members, Yeon Bo-Ra stretched out her long finger toward Yul. “Yeah, over there.”

A moment earlier, several older men and women had run over, saying they wanted to help draw letters.

Now, Yul had somehow ended up perched on his father’s shoulders, giggling as he pointed at a few small stones arranged beneath the wall.

“Meow?”

“Meow?”

At first Eun-Ho thought he was just hearing a strange conversation between cats.

The sound slipped out of his own mouth as well. “Meow?”

The stones Yul and his father were staring at really did look like the shape of the word “meow.”

Hmm?

Just then, Yeon Bo-Ra, who had followed him, stuck close to his side. “It’s not meow. That’s...”

Two lines crossed at right angles near the bottom, closed by a straight vertical pillar with a rounded top.

“LP?” Eun-Ho simply read it aloud.

The moment he did, a throbbing pain tore through his head.

Beeeeep—!

Every member of the team clutched their heads and collapsed to the ground.

“Aaaagh!”

“M-my head!”

Swear-Master’s loudspeaker clattered to the ground, letting out a shrieking feedback noise. However, compared to the agony crushing their brains, it was nothing.

[Unauthorized disclosure has been detected.]

[Corporate regulation protection protocol has been activated.]

[Risk factors will be eliminated.]

An oppressive announcement echoed repeatedly throughout the castle. At the same time, red warning windows appeared before everyone’s eyes.

Chaos erupted instantly.

“Aaah! My head’s going to split open!”

“W-what the hell is happening now?!”

The stones they had gathered rattled and trembled. They clashed against one another before jumping like oil popping in a frying pan.

“An earthquake?!”

“Watch out!”

The ground didn’t just shake but it heaved. The grassy field swelled upward in multiple places, as though gigantic moles were rising from underneath.

[Caution!]

[Multiple union members are in a state of panic!]

By now, everyone was so used to the system stating the obvious that the announcement barely registered.

[An obstacle blocking the path of revolution has been detected.]

[Team trial has been activated!]

Puff! Puff! Puff! Puff! Puff! Puff!

A blue window appeared before every member of the team.

[Trial: Escape the Crisis]

[Objective: protect the precious union members from the forest’s disaster.]

[Rewards: 100 Benefit Points, 1 Trial Reward Point, and a small amount of trust.]

[Condition: trial fails if any union member dies.]

“Team Leader!”

“A team trial! It popped up!” someone shouted.

Clearing the snow across the entire forest only gave ten points, Eun-Ho thought.

Compared to the benefits they had painstakingly accumulated through endless grinding, this was an enormous reward.

“Damn it,” Swear-Master cursed. “What is this, poisoning us first and then handing us the antidote?”

The system had created the crisis only to encourage them to solve it. At first glance, it sounded just as absurd as the man claimed.

It’s always been like this, though.

As the theory Eun-Ho had been forming slowly gained strength, a hemispherical barrier of light burst outward.

“Just trust me!” said the security guard.

[You are now within the Guard Post area.]

[It has been linked with the unique ability Guard.]

[Unauthorized intrusion will be repelled under the guard’s protection.]

Fwooosh—

With a soft glow, the shield ricocheted away any pebbles, branches, and clumps of dirt that slammed into it like buckshot.

After confirming it was holding, Ji-Eun leaped into the air and rushed toward the panicking union members. “Hup!”

She furrowed her brow so deeply that a ravine-like crease appeared. Mustering all her strength, she lifted everyone from the violently shaking plaza.

Rustle—

Chunks of earth rose into the air.

Rustle—

“Please!”

“Aaaah!”

The union members began moving along with Ji-Eun’s intense gaze.

“Hup! I’m bringing them inside the barrier!”

“Eeeeek!”

The man in the gray sweater floated helplessly through the air before plunging headfirst into the glowing sphere of light.

“Make some room!”

“Huh? O-oh! Right!”

Han-Wool scooped Yul into his arms. Yeo-Jin and Sol-Ah clung together to squeeze tighter. Jae-Hyuk stepped outside the barrier briefly to open up space.

“Thank you! Thank you!”

While everyone else struggled desperately to keep things under control, Eun-Ho said calmly, “Please leave.”

“Huh?”

He pointed beyond the shaking castle walls. “Everyone except the Labor-Management Cooperation Team. Out.”

“E-excuse me?!”

“What are you saying, Union Leader?!” someone shouted. “Don’t you see what’s happening out there?!”

“So you’re just going to protect your own team? Are we supposed to go out there and die?!”

The union members erupted in furious protest.

“I-I’m sorry!” the man in the gray sweater stammered. “I shouted earlier because I panicked! Please just let me stay inside!”

However, Eun-Ho shook his head.

“Ji-Eun, send them outside the forest.”

“What? But abandoning them like that—”

“No, look over there,” Eun-Ho said firmly, pointing toward the distant edge of the woods. “Do you see the boundary of the forest?”

“The forest?”

“This protocol only activates inside the Wailing Forest. If they leave the Forest, they’ll be safe.”

That was their way to survive for now.

[Objective: protect the precious union members from the forest’s disaster.]

The crisis threatening them was the forest’s disaster, not the protocol. In other words, whatever expulsion the protocol referred to wasn’t targeting them. The system most likely considered the team to be the risk factor after uncovering forbidden information.

“The farther you get from here, the safer you’ll be,” Eun-Ho told the union members gently.

He was basically asking them to trust him and wait. After all, the most dangerous thing near them was his team.

[Rewards: 100 Benefit Points, 1 Trial Reward Point, and a small amount of trust.]

[Condition: trial fails if any union member dies.]

If they left the forest alive, the team would complete the trial without even lifting a finger. It was a perfect win-win scenario.

Yet the man in the gray sweater still hesitated, shifting nervously. “But, if we go back now, won’t the price problem remain unsolved? You still don’t know what we’re supposed to buy.”

Eun-Ho smiled faintly. “That won’t be a problem.”

A clock and LP, Eun-Ho thought.

[An obstacle blocking the path of revolution has been detected.]

If something was blocking the shortcut to revolution, then that meant they had already found the shortcut.

“From here on, it’s our turn to handle it,” he said.

***

[The team trial has been completed.]

[You have earned a hundred Benefit Points and a Trial Reward Point.]

Their improvised plan had worked perfectly. The union members, led by the man in the gray sweater, had reluctantly withdrawn. Of course, this was only after Eun-Ho had promised to resolve the issue and report back.

Once they were gone, the forest grew quiet again as if by magic.

[The union members’ trust has been slightly restored.]

Eun-Ho was still pondering what that was for when a loud system announcement blared in his ears, accompanied by a burst of light.

[Conditions met.]

The brilliance flooded his vision, as if he had just stepped out from darkness into blinding daylight.

[The second special order of the hidden trial Revolution has been activated.]

When the light faded, a message window remained.

[2] Unity

- Gather the scattered will of the people and claim it.

- The stronger the loyal hearts you gather, the stronger you shall become.

The scattered public sentiment could be addressed once they solved the price crisis. However, how they would solve it still required some thought. As for loyal hearts, that probably meant increasing the union members’ loyalty.

This has to succeed.

The first special order, Beginning of the Revolution, had rewarded him with divine armament. Though, the reward had only been upgraded thanks to some unnamed gods getting angry at the system’s unfairness.

This one doesn’t look easy either.

“So I’m looking forward to it,” Eun-Ho murmured.

He had settled down on an empty beach. His feet sank into the soft sand with every step.

Crunch.

“So,” said a man who shared Eun-Ho’s appearance.

Crunch.

Indeed, Eun-Ho had returned to the same crashing coastline where he once trained in Customized Advanced Swordsmanship.

“Why exactly did you insist on conducting this in the sacred classroom?” asked the assistant instructor.

Though this time, technically, it wasn’t customized anymore. The assistant instructor had opened the place up, so it wasn’t just for Eun-Ho alone.

“Because there might be an earthquake,” Eun-Ho answered casually.

“What?”

“I need to investigate the new information we found, but I can’t trigger another disaster on my own land.” Eun-Ho gestured around at the vast stretch of shoreline. “This place is big. Might as well use it.”

“So why does it have to be my land?!” the assistant instructor snapped.

“If you’re bored, go train the Skeletons,” Eun-Ho said lightly. “They’ve been improving way too slowly lately.”

“What?!” The assistant instructor’s jaw dropped, grabbing his nape in frustration as he growled. “You seem to be misunderstanding something. I only supervised your Skeletons as an experiment in training methods.”

Eun-Ho ignored him.

“And it absolutely wasn’t because I wanted to support you nor enjoyed teaching those things—”

“Stand back, it’s dangerous. ” Eun-Ho waved him away, then enunciated every word clearly, “Status LP.”