Humanity Protection Company

TL/Editor: raei

Status: 5/week mon-fri

Illustrations: posted in discord

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After eating well and resting, Lee Yeonwoo's body had recovered considerably. He got out of the hospital bed and slowly stretched. He rotated his stiff joints and extended his arms and legs.

His eyes sparkled in the sunlight streaming into the hospital room.

'I think it's time to mess with the club.'

There were no side effects from the painkillers. His drowsy head had cleared, and his thoughts flowed smoothly.

Though not in peak condition, he had recovered significantly.

'The bastard who sold my information. I'll only target him.'

He was likely a high-ranking member running his own business. Yeonwoo would mess with all of his businesses using the dice. More precisely, he would use them as test subjects.

Yeonwoo glanced at the hospital room door.

'Now I just need Mark Jung to bring the information.'

They had discussed the plan over the phone, brainstormed to refine it, and Mark Jung said he would collect and bring the necessary information.

"He should be here by now."

As if on cue.

"It's me."

Knock knock. There was a knocking sound at the door. Mark Jung, who usually barged right in, spoke uncomfortably from outside.

"There's a guest here. May we come in?"

"A guest?"

Yeonwoo tilted his head quizzically, then moved to open the door himself.

Beyond stood Mark Jung and an old man.

Mark Jung looked at Yeonwoo with tired eyes, while the old man entered, tapping the floor with an expensive cane.

Yeonwoo stepped back reflexively, then looked at Mark Jung questioningly.

"This is the club manager for Goldberg Club in Korea. Sir, this is the special investigator Yeonwoo."

"Hmm, yes. Just as the information described."

Mark Jung made introductions.

Yeonwoo was startled. The club manager, out of nowhere?

He acted quickly. He took out a stone from his bag and gripped it, then drew his gun. Even after that moment passed, Yeonwoo didn't stop.

He held the gun in his other hand, ready to burn paper money at any moment.

'If I'm attacked first, I'm done for!'

A lesson painfully learned from the Green Association.

Just as Yeonwoo assumed Mark Jung had been compromised somehow, he raised his finger to the trigger. The old man quickly raised one hand.

"I surrender. I didn't come here to fight."

"I don't believe you."

"Hmm. I can't hear you very well."

The old man groped the air, trying to locate Yeonwoo, who was holding the stone and staring at him like he was made of stone.

Then he found Yeonwoo precisely. Eyes bearing the traces of years looked at him.

"I really didn't come to fight. The club doesn't attack like this."

"Yeonwoo. He came to negotiate. As a representative of the club and proxy for the man who sold that information."

Mark Jung turned his head this way and that, trying to find Yeonwoo.

Yeonwoo had a staring contest with the old man, then slowly retreated. Out the hospital room door.

"Let's talk over the phone."

"That won't do. You need to be present to sign the contract."

"Whatever the contract is-"

"It's a contract not to sell your information anymore."

Yeonwoo's steps stopped. He pondered.

'I don't get why someone claiming to be the Korean branch club manager would approach like this.'

Something felt suspicious and didn't add up. No matter how tempting the offer, wasn't the other party still that club? The embodiment of capitalism.

Click-

Yeonwoo gripped his gun tighter.

"So what does the club gain from this?"

"We want to place restrictions on the dice."

The old man spoke calmly, and Yeonwoo and Mark Jung freaked out.

"That's nonsense-"

"As the company's coordinator, the negotiation is off-"

At that moment. The old man struck the floor with his cane. Bang. That resounding sound.

Mark Jung and Yeonwoo shut their mouths, and the old man spoke serenely.

"Young folks. Shouldn't you hear the contract terms before speaking? You're too hasty, even for your age."

Yeonwoo snapped back to his senses. He had shown respect because the other party was elderly and a club manager, but he had no intention of being led along any further.

Restricting the usefulness of the dice?

"Whatever the contract is, restrictions are out of the question."

"Even for 1 trillion? In dollars, that is."

Yeonwoo's mind froze for a moment. 1 trillion dollars? How much was that in won? It must be an astronomical amount. With this much, of course he should listen....

The old man suddenly burst out laughing and sat on Yeonwoo's hospital bed. He patted his knee.

"I'm joking."

"No, sir. This is a negotiation between the company and the club."

Yeonwoo and Mark Jung looked at the old man bewilderedly. This was supposedly the renowned Korean club manager.

The old man didn't lose his smile.

"Young people have no patience. Well, are you ready to listen? I intend to pay an equivalent value for the restrictions anyway."

It seemed he truly came with the intention to negotiate.

Yeonwoo cautiously put his hand in his bag. He put down the stone, but in a way he could grab it immediately if needed.

"What exactly are the contract terms?"

"I'll be frank. The club periodically detects crises as a risk management measure. You could say we peek into the future."

The old man looked around, then plucked and ate some grapes from the get-well gift Yeonwoo had received.

Saying stolen food tastes the best.

He seemed quite disinterested, as if he was just here as a paid proxy.

"However, we recently detected an economic crisis. A Great Depression. The world economy collapsing, all valuable things turning worthless. Do you know why?"

"No way..."

Mark Jung looked at Yeonwoo suspiciously.

Yeonwoo blinked, then realized.

'Because of me? Why would the Great Depression be because of me? Oh, if I roll a critical failure or critical success...'

If he attacked with the dice and got bad results repeatedly, it seemed possible.

The old man pointed his cane at Yeonwoo, who subtly moved to the side to avoid the cane tip.

"Your caution is commendable. Anyway, we investigated while consuming gold and grasped the situation. That information broker bastard and you. That's why I came."

The old man lowered his cane. The cane leaned askew on the hospital bed.

Instead, he took out a contract from his coat.

"The contract is simple. The special investigator on your side won't roll the dice with the intent of causing global economic problems. The Goldberg Club won't provide information about the special investigator. How about it?"

Yeonwoo looked at the contract and fell into thought.

Honestly, it wasn't a bad proposal. He had no plans to roll for a Great Depression anyway. He didn't want a Great Depression either.

Wouldn't it be beneficial to prevent the club's information leaks in exchange for an action he wouldn't take anyway?

On top of that, the old man added:

"We're not enemies. Making enemies only leads to losses. The club wants coexistence. Think about it."

Yeonwoo rolled his eyes slightly, and saw the old man frantically drawing lines with the tip of his cane.

"If all groups are intertwined by profit. If coexistence is profitable. Who would want to fight? Such peace is the club's goal."

Yeonwoo's expression soured.

Peace? Coexistence? Nice words.

"I'm not interested in that. I almost died because of the information leaked by the club."

"The information broker bastard is an individual. He doesn't represent the club's will. So that information broker will be disciplined according to club rules."

There's no way they'd leave a member who almost caused massive damage to the club unpunished.

"As for the money taken, just consider it the price paid. If you just sold the resources you stole from the exploration team second-hand, it would be worth that much."

Well, Yeonwoo was the one who started the theft first, so he couldn't really say anything.

Honestly, it was a good contract.

'But the club is the expert in this field. If there's a trick, I wouldn't know.'

Yeonwoo casually passed the contract to Mark Jung, who returned it to Yeonwoo.

"Are you going to sign? If you are, we'll have it reviewed by a special law firm."

"I'm still thinking..."

A look of deep consideration crossed Yeonwoo's face.

The old man looked at Yeonwoo like that, then gripped his cane tightly. The cane tapped the floor as the old man stood up.

"Take your time to think. You have plenty of time. I didn't expect it to be settled in a day either."

The old man took one last, close look at Yeonwoo. Then he shook his head and tapped his way out of the hospital room.

"The fruit was delicious. Contact us when you reach a decision."

And so the supposed club manager departed.

Mark Jung and Yeonwoo quietly monitored his presence, then confirmed he had left before starting to discuss.

"We should be suspicious-"

"We need to check the clauses first-"

Then, in the midst of their conversation, Yeonwoo suddenly felt a wall.

'Is this what a top-tier organization is like?'

Those who exchange moves across time and space. Those who paint pictures using the future as their canvas. Wouldn't it take a future Yeonwoo to participate in their game?

Yeonwoo, busy living day by day, became slightly depressed.

---

---

The old man got into a car renowned for its safety. The driver asked.

"Where shall we go, sir?"

"Well. Let's take a drive around this city."

A response that suggested his mind was focused elsewhere. The driver tactfully pressed the accelerator gently, and the car wandered the city.

The old man quietly looked at the scenery.

'The company was having a fit, so I was relieved, but...'

After the company's fit, which had existed as an unknown danger, became reality, the club focused on capital management. Not just to minimize losses, but to profit even in this situation.

There's no eternal prosperity or recession, but there are always people who profit in any situation, and that was the club.

For that purpose, the Golden Omnipotence, which periodically invested gold, foresaw a terrible loss.

'The dice, huh. In company terms, would it be danger level 5? I'm not sure about 6 since what was shown wasn't enough.'

Honestly, the old man couldn't guess either. Where its limits lay. Yeonwoo had never rolled for anything too massive out of fear, so it wasn't even clear if it was possible in the first place.

And such unknowns were precisely what should be guarded against in this world full of anomalous entities.

'We should generously consider it level 6.'

The old man clicked his tongue.

"That information broker bastard. Can't distinguish between information that can be sold and can't be sold."

The driver skillfully pretended not to hear and turned the wheel, while the old man started grumbling.

"Look at that company. They have so many capable young people. But why do we-"

The driver broke out in a cold sweat.