"It really was just on the way…" Lyons's rather handsome face now looked innocent. "You wouldn't think it's easy for us in the Information Department to clean up after so many of your Training Department employees died, would you?"
"..."
Arthur chugged the can of beer in silence.
"Alright, alright," seeing that Arthur wasn't falling for it, Lyons finally told the truth. "I just came to see the new Anomaly your department contained. I heard it's quite dangerous? Did you meet it? How did it feel?"
This was a survival skill—especially for old employees like Lyons. In Lobotomy Corporation, knowing which Abnormalities were contained in which departments was essential; otherwise, one day, an Anomaly from another department might come out for a stroll, and you'd die by accident.
Arthur's answer was simple and clear.
"I advise you not to look for him. You will die."
"It's not that bad, Arthur," Lyons chuckled awkwardly upon hearing the expert's reply. "I'm at least a Level 3 employee, verified by the company's internal tests. Don't I even have the ability to resist?"
Arthur sighed, not wanting to say anything more. He patted the dust off his body and stood up again.
Even after spending several hours suppressing an Anomaly, Lobotomy Corporation's daily energy quota for employees still needed to be completed.
Therefore, he still had work to do.
Lyons watched him slowly walk back to the control panel, and only then did he finally speak to his senior.
"Brother Arthur," Lyons changed how he addressed him from behind. "Your mental state hasn't been very good since G-01-02 (Guide) arrived. You should find time to get a psychological check-up."
"I'm perfectly fine…" Arthur didn't turn around.
"Senior Liu said the same thing, but the next day he was found to have committed suicide in the emergency stairwell…" Lyons said with an incredibly sincere expression. "I owe you a lot of favors. Please don't die, Senior."
"Got it." Arthur felt a little touched inside, thinking that this junior still had some conscience.
"Really, really don't die!" Lyons continued shouting vigorously behind him.
"I won't die," Arthur frowned slightly.
"Senior! Don't even think about it!! I don't want to collect your corpse here!" At that shout, everyone in the Training Department looked over.
"Damn it, I said I'm fine, so I'm fine!"
Arthur finally lost his patience, turned around abruptly, and without hesitation slammed Decisive Heart—sheath and all—into the guy's forehead.
"You're cursing me to die every day, aren't you?!"
Without holding back, Decisive Heart struck his forehead again and again, until the final fierce thrust sent the entire sheath tip into his mouth.
"Speak! How much money did you bet on me dying this time?!"
"Senior, what are you saying? I can't understand."
With the sword sheath stuck in his throat, Lyons's words came out garbled.
But Arthur wasn't worried. Although it didn't look like it, Lyons was a guy with Strength 3, and this level of beating wouldn't kill him.
"Not going to say, huh?" Arthur left the sheath in his mouth but drew the blade.
At this moment, the gleaming black edge of Decisive Heart hovered two centimeters above Lyons's right eye.
Arthur sneered. "One eye should be enough."
Lyons finally caved.
"Brother Arthur! Brother Arthur! One hundred days! Betting on your death! Twenty-eight thousand dollars!"
"Damn it… a dog really can't change its habit of eating shit."
Arthur pulled the sheath out of his mouth, glanced around, and spat on the ground in annoyance.
"Death Betting" was a unique form of entertainment among employees of this Lobotomy Corporation Branch.
As the name suggested, the gamble involved betting on which employees would die before a certain number of days.
To put it more bluntly—
Old man, time to drop the gold coins.
The longer an employee lived, the higher the price of their death (naturally, it had to be a "natural" death).
And now, the "oldest" Arthur in the Branch was the jackpot of this project.
Eighty days. Ninety days. And now, one hundred days.
Lyons had been betting on him almost every day since he arrived.
Recently, he had even been showing off in front of Arthur every day.
Heaven has no eyes—why doesn't this gambling addict drop the gold coins himself?!
"Ahaha, Brother Arthur, you feel better after beating me up, right?" Lyons rubbed his chin lightly and stood up with a smile.
Hearing this, Arthur finally understood the guy's intention.
"You…" To be honest, Arthur was genuinely a little touched, but the next second he reacted. "You don't want me to die, yet you bet on my death?"
"Well, this is my family's motto—you can't lose in business," Lyons said with a grin. "Senior, if you die, I get money. If you don't die, I'm also happy. Either way, I win."
"...…"
"Alright, it seems I'm not very welcome here either." Lyons tidied his suit slightly as the others in the Training Department cast ominous glances at him.
He quickly walked past Arthur, but still whispered in his ear.
"Senior, don't really die. Compared to money, I dislike owing favors more."
Midnight.
"Managed to safely pass the ninety-ninth day…"
Arthur sat at the computer desk in his dorm room, shaking a can of beer that no longer needed to be opened.
Although he didn't want to admit it, beating Lyons up earlier had vented a lot of his negative emotions.
Not everyone in Lobotomy Corporation is crazy after all…
Arthur twisted his neck slightly and opened his computer again.
He needed to continue perfecting his magnum opus—the Anomaly Response Manual.
Speaking of which, he hadn't written a single word since the Guide and SCP-049 arrived, as he didn't know whether he should include precautions for these Abnormalities.
But now, he decided to add them.
Even if he died, handing this book over to junior employees would be worthwhile.
But the moment the screen lit up, he realized something was wrong.
His desktop had changed.
A file he had never seen before appeared in the lower-left corner.
What is this…
Arthur frowned and clicked it several times.
The next second, the screen went black, leaving only a progress bar.
No way—someone dares to hack Lobotomy Corporation's intranet?!
Arthur was stunned. In the City, there were very few companies capable of such a feat.
K Company? W Company? T Company?
None of them would need to go this far. Stealing another Wing's Singularity technology was a City taboo.
But as the bar progressed, something felt off.
When the screen lit up again, it displayed a strange page.
This was not a virus.
Arthur straightened.
It was an instruction.
[To the Station Master of Site-CN-36.
Item #: SCP-049 has been transferred to your department.
Note: Per Containment Committee Order 049.S19.17.1, SCP-049 is no longer permitted to directly interact with any Foundation personnel, nor will any additional corpses be provided for its surgical procedures. This order remains in effect indefinitely until a consensus regarding SCP-049's continued containment is reached.
...Data omitted...
Additionally, MTF Epsilon-11 and Zeta-9 will assist with ongoing research and containment of SCP-049 and local spatial anomalies.
Finally, good luck.
—Dr. Raymond Hamm, Site-85]
Arthur stared at the screen, stroking his chin.
Hmm…
Am I drunk?
He turned his head sharply, staring suspiciously at the unopened can of beer.
It must be a dream. Time to sleep.
He buried himself under the covers—then poked his head back out seconds later.
Still here?
Wait… do I really need a psychological evaluation?
The eyes of this "Anomaly expert," acclaimed by many, were now filled with confusion.
Even now, he couldn't accept reality. His reactions resembled those of his first day at Lobotomy Corporation.
And that was understandable.
This situation was simply too bizarre.
He recognized it instantly.
This was an instruction from the SCP Foundation.
But that was impossible. This was the City—where would an SCP Foundation come from?
Transmigration alone was absurd enough; now information itself had crossed worlds?
Moreover, the SCP world wasn't even supposed to exist. It was a collaborative fictional setting.
Yet this was undeniably real.
Arthur returned to the computer.
This instruction was meant for Site-CN-36…
He scrolled repeatedly, reviewing it.
SCP-049 didn't arrive on Earth. It appeared in an Anomaly container sent to W-0001 Branch…
And this message—intended for another world—ended up on his computer.
What was going on?
Local spatial anomalies…
Arthur focused on the latter section.
MTF—Mobile Task Forces.
Epsilon-11, Nine-Tailed Fox. Zeta-9, Mole Rats.
The Nine-Tailed Fox handled containment; escorting 049 was likely their task.
The Mole Rats, however, specialized in unstable underground or spatial anomalies—units with near-total mortality rates.
If they were involved, spatial anomalies were already under investigation.
If 049 came here…
Arthur swallowed.
Can I send something back?
Hope surged.
Even returning to the SCP world would be acceptable.
At least there, the Foundation maintained order.
He searched the document.
Nothing.
It was a static file.
Arthur's mood grew heavy—but not despairing.
He had already adapted to a world without light.
Now, at least, he had seen a glimmer of escape.
If the Foundation is investigating… it's only a matter of time…
Five years?
Ten?
Twenty?
He might not survive that long.
Yet the hope itself was powerful.
I can go back…
His breathing quickened.
As long as the MTF arrives, I'll be rescued.
I wasn't transmigrated—I was trapped!
Now I just need to survive…
Ecstasy overtook him.
But he ignored one thing.
He had no idea when help would arrive.
Still, after several minutes, his heartbeat calmed.
Focus…
He looked back at the computer.
Several attached files appeared below the instruction.
[Project File: SCP-049]
Upon opening it, the bird-beak mask filled the screen.
A Foundation research report.
At the same moment, a system prompt appeared.
[Observation Level increased. Current Level: 3]
[Management Guidelines unlocked]
[Data update complete]
[Anomaly Name: Plague Doctor
Number: G-01-12 (Project Number: SCP-049)
Observation Level: 3
Containment Level: HE (Euclid)
Qliphoth Counter: 3/3
Max PE-BOX: 20
EGO Equipment: ??
EGO Accessory: ??
Damage Resistance: ??
Attack Method: Physical / Soul]
[Management Guidelines:
SCP-049 cannot tolerate the presence of "Plague." If a clerk is deemed infected, they will be immediately killed.
Qliphoth Counter decreases every other day.
Excellent work result increases counter by one.
Poor result kills the working clerk and likely decreases the counter.
Corpses become SCP-049-2 after surgery.
A fresh corpse must be provided weekly; failure decreases the counter.
Large-scale death (over 10 personnel) triggers immediate breach.
SCP-049 can enhance SCP-049-2 through repeated surgery.
Direct skin contact causes immediate cessation of biological functions.
Lavender suppresses SCP-049 (ineffective during mass-outbreak breaches).]
[Derivative: SCP-049-2]
Damage Resistance:
Physical (0.9) High
Mental (0.3) Extremely High
Erosion (1.2) Low
Soul (3.0) Extremely Low
Attack Method: Physical
Description: Individuals "cured" by SCP-049 are free from disease for life.
Arthur stared at the guidelines.
Good heavens… 049 should join the Clerks Protection Association.
Mass casualties were routine.
Ten deaths triggered containment failure.
Meaning… one incident could doom the entire Branch.
Yet strangely, Arthur wasn't panicking.
W-0001 was small.
Such large-scale casualties were rare.
Unless Headquarters sent W-class Abnormalities.
If they sent Queen Bee or Nameless Infant tomorrow…
Then he'd take everything back.
Arthur smiled wryly.
The next day at noon.
Arthur visited the Control Department as usual.
The air felt lighter today.
"Morning, Senior Arthur. You look well. Something good happen?"
A Training Department clerk greeted him.
"Hmm…" Arthur didn't deny it. "Lali, what are you doing here?"
"Minister Hod revised the employee handbook. I came to ask about it."
"Oh."
Arthur nodded.
They parted ways.
But Lali called out again.
"Senior, Komini didn't come in today. She's sick. Aren't you going to check on her?"
Arthur paused.
He hadn't seen her all day.
Remembering her fear yesterday…
"…Alright. I'll check on her later."
After entering the Control Department—
"Yulia, how's G-01-05 today?"
"Same as ever," Yulia replied. "You're in a good mood."
"Is it that obvious?"
"Usually you look like your mother died."
"…Hey."
Yulia laughed.
"No more jokes. Anyone working with G-01-05?"
"No."
"Then I'll apply for an interdepartmental communication session."
"I thought you didn't want to see it."
"Just a whim."
Arthur stared at the Guide's containment cell.
He truly felt like talking to it again.