Since I always picked the items I needed, the roulette had never really been a variable for me.

Kwak Hanmuk sank into despair, recalling his own miserable past. Mo Haein didn’t look much better off either. From the utterly sick expression on her face, she must have been forced into a maid uniform too.

Leaving the two miserable Captains behind, Samra continued the briefing in his usual calm tone.

"As with the previous <Dead Zone Delivery>, there is no vaccine or cure for the BT-CCC Virus in <Clean! Clean! Clean!>."

There probably wouldn’t be a vaccine or cure for any Trial the Special Task Force entered from now on. It would be too wasteful to send expensive members like the Task Force into relatively safe Trials.

"Also, since Lieutenant Colonel Je Hyun-oh is expected to have already arrived at the hatching site of <Clean! Clean! Clean!>, this transfer will be conducted via teleport."

At the word "teleport," I couldn’t hide my interest.

Finally, I get to use teleport too?

The teleport device was something Samra had made by processing a Trial item. It could only make a one-way trip from TRA headquarters to the Trial’s hatching site, and it could only be used if an Adaptee affiliated with TRA was already at the destination.

The reason for all those conditions was safety. Samra could probably make a better device with his abilities, but in that case, he couldn’t guarantee the user’s survival at this point. It seemed to be because they couldn’t use humans as test subjects, so they had to run tests on androids instead.

Either way, there was no device this overwhelmingly convenient for long-distance travel.

Captain Kwak used a teleport to come when I first met him too.

I pictured Kwak Hanmuk appearing at the abandoned factory site, imagining what the teleport must have looked like.

After that, we discussed the NPCs and creatures of Clean3, the endings we’d already cleared, and then the Special Task Force meeting came to an end. For the entry tomorrow morning, Kwak Hanmuk and Mo Haein hurried out to finish their existing team duties. I was the only one with nothing to do, leisurely getting up from my seat.

"Han Goyo-ssi."

Samra held out a small box to me. Inside was a small badge, shimmering with holographic colors.

"A newly developed item."

"What’s it for?"

"It’s still in the testing phase. I’d like you to wear it during this entry into <Clean! Clean! Clean!>."

He said the item would activate once I entered the Trial, so I should check it out there. Right now it was inactive, so I couldn’t even read the item description. It was about the size of a button, so wearing it in Clean3 probably wouldn’t be too noticeable.

I closed the lid of the box.

"That’s a lot of secrets for a cooperative relationship."

"The representative of Paseong is an Adaptee who has played the Creator’s games."

At Samra’s calm remark, I froze, still holding the box.

"The reason I prevented you from contacting the Paseong representative is also related to that. I am only trying to choose the best course of action. I will not betray you, Han Goyo-ssi."

Samra looked me straight in the eye.

"Please trust me."

Did androids even lie? At least during the time I’d played Archive, I’d never seen Samra lie.

He might have hidden the truth, but he never lied.

Of course, reality could be different, but I decided to trust Samra.

"Alright. But after we clear Clean3, I’d appreciate it if you shared something with me."

"Yes, Han Goyo-ssi."

Samra gave a faint smile.

"I look forward to your second mission as well."

The hatching site of Clean3 was Haewoljeong at Dalmatjigogae in Busan. Once a famous tourist spot overlooking the sea, it was now surrounded by tall barriers.

A line split open in the air, and three people spilled out onto the ground.

"Oof."

Kwak Hanmuk landed lightly, followed by Mo Haein touching down softly. I stumbled a bit too, but I managed to land safely without falling.

Teleport is insane.

We’d gone from Seoul to Busan in the blink of an eye. This was cutting-edge science if anything was.

As I basked in the afterglow of my first teleport experience, the person who had arrived and was waiting for us let out a click-clacking sound in greeting.

Je Hyun-oh was sitting on top of the half-destroyed pavilion, damaged by the meteorite. He sat there like a crow on a telephone pole, staring up at the sky visible above the barriers.

From what Samra told me, he cleared his Trial and came out early this morning.

The salty sea breeze seemed to carry a faint smell of blood, but I couldn’t be sure. He looked perfectly fine on the outside.

Still, he seemed to be in a bit of a bad mood. Normally, he would have displayed an emoticon on his goggles and clicked his metal hand together. I was worried about how well-behaved he’d be in Clean3.

As I stared at him, trying to judge whether Je Hyun-oh was in his right mind, he turned his head and looked back at me. He was the type who never looked away first, so a staring contest was pointless.

I gave a slight bow.

"Lieutenant Colonel Je. We’re here."

Je Hyun-oh acknowledged me with a simple nod. Then he pointed a metal finger at the ground beneath him.

Below Je Hyun-oh, in the center of the collapsed pavilion, the Clean3 meteorite was embedded in the earth, radiating light. The egg-sized meteorite shimmered with a mysterious blue hue, a mix of bright and dark tones that looked like a moonlit night sky. Its surface was smooth, without a single scratch or crack, making it look like a very precious mineral.

"Ugh, Clean3..."

Kwak Hanmuk let out a strange groan of lament, smacked his lips, and walked toward the meteorite.

"Entering now."

Je Hyun-oh nodded. Mo Haein pressed her earpiece and gave a short report.

"Special Task Force entering."

Then she placed her hand on the meteorite.

When I came to, everything in front of me was blurry. I wanted to turn my head, but I couldn’t move my body. The introductory event sequence had locked my field of view in place.

Inside a spaceship that looked like it belonged in a scrapyard, various alien lifeforms in grimy clothes sat scattered around. A creature that looked like a fusion of a human and a cephalopod walked through the tired-looking crowd. Wearing a contractor’s uniform, with an eyepatch over one eye, it slammed its octopus legs onto the floor with a SLAP and shouted.

"Almost there! Open your eyes, you bastards!"

’Me,’ leaning against the wall, turned my head. The view shifted toward a window. Outside, there was nothing but gray storm clouds. A low, ominous synthesizer note slowly crept into my ears, like a warning.

The music, gradually building up, suddenly cut off.

A brief silence. Then the clouds parted.

A drum hit dropped, and a massive mansion came into view. If this were a game, the title <Clean! Clean! Clean!> would have appeared on screen right about now.

A sharp synth sound mixed in, followed by a fast, threatening beat. The Renaissance-style mansion, set under a dark night sky, had a unique structure that made it look like it was floating on water. A soft orange light leaking through the mansion’s windows cast a glow on the water’s surface.

The mansion was elegant and authoritative, inspiring an overwhelming sense of awe and an almost forced reverence in the viewer.

The music continued as the spaceship drew closer to the mansion. The refined beat made it sound cheerful at first glance, but the underlying synth notes clashed in dissonance, creating a precarious tension that felt like it could spiral out of control at any moment. It was the main OST, perfectly suited to Clean3’s atmosphere.

As the music neared its end, the spaceship landed. The moment the door opened, the contractor employees started yelling.

"Line up! Get the hell up!"

The alien lifeforms buzzed as they stood and formed two neat lines. ’I’ also hurried to my feet and joined the line, following the shouting employees out of the spaceship.

In front of the mansion’s main gate stood two beings, each about two and a half meters tall. They had the bodies of human men, dressed in neat butler uniforms, with beast heads made of black metal. They were the main NPCs managing the mansion: the Rabbit Butler and the Cat Butler.

Their faces had no eyes. The butlers, with their endlessly smooth-surfaced heads, opened their mouths to speak.

"The cleaners are here!"

"You’re late."

Between the Cat Butler’s parted lips, rows of shark-like teeth were visible. The Rabbit Butler, who should have been a herbivore, also had sharp teeth, making their already grotesque appearance feel even more alien.

The Cat Butler pointed at the cleaner standing at the front of the line.

"You!"

"Y-yes...?"

The cleaner, with a simple, dull look, scratched his head made of ore. Stone dust fluttered down. The Cat Butler didn’t hide its disgust as it asked.

"What do I look like to you?"

The ore-headed cleaner answered in a vacant voice.

"A cat?"

That was the end of it.

FZZT!

A thin sound rang out, and a black, burning hole appeared in the middle of the cleaner’s forehead. The ore-headed cleaner collapsed backward, oozing sticky, tar-like blood. The red glow in its eyes faded to black.

One died in an instant, but the contractor employee didn’t even flinch — he just cackled. Only the cleaners stumbled back in shock.

The Cat Butler looked down at the dead cleaner like it was filthy trash, then turned its head.

"You there!"

The one singled out was Mo Haein.

"Answer me. What do I look like?"

Mo Haein, dressed in a worn-out, frayed jumpsuit, answered without changing her expression.

"The butler of this great mansion."

The Cat Butler bared its sharp teeth in a grin.

"Not bad."

Despite the lukewarm praise, the corners of its mouth were pulled up high, clearly showing satisfaction.

"Come to think of it, you’re a cleaner who’s been here before. Yes, occasionally, useful ones did come."

The butlers, the main NPCs of Clean3, remembered the player’s previous playthroughs. If you cleared all the endings and logged back in, the Rabbit Butler and Cat Butler would welcome the player and even show them a hidden ending.

"Roasted Chestnut is here."

"Oh! It’s Roasted Chestnut. Have you decided to work as a butler in the mansion? You would be welcome anytime, Roasted Chestnut."

Once you saw the hidden ending where the butlers prepared a feast for the player in the mansion, further gameplay became impossible. Even if you tried to start a new playthrough, a notification would pop up and the game would automatically shut down.

[You cannot apply as a Cleaner.]

It was a game with a lot of strange quirks.

"Listen up, you idiots! Stupid behavior here means death. Always keep that in mind and act accordingly."

The Cat Butler declared in a booming voice. The cleaners cowered and shrank back at the ear-rattling sound. The contractor employee, laughing at the sight, closed the spaceship door and took off again. A few cleaners frantically tried to climb aboard but got hit by laser fire and died.

The contractor wouldn’t return until the seven-day cleaning contract period was up. Until then, we had to survive by cleaning diligently to leave the mansion safely.

Cleaners who sensed their impending death wailed, only for a few more to get killed for being too noisy.

Then the event sequence ended. Finally free to move my body, I quickly took out an item amidst the chaos.

It was a small bronze hand mirror.

[Good-Looking: Maintain a neat appearance, as if receiving a distinguished guest, even when alone in a room.]

My face reflected in the smoothly polished bronze surface. Good-Looking was an item that could only be used once per Trial. It transformed the person reflected in the mirror into a beautiful appearance, maximizing their potential — but the standard of beauty was the Trial’s own. Since it made you look like what the Trial’s NPCs preferred most, it might be a bit different from conventional beauty.

After using Good-Looking, a belated worry crept in.

Please don’t tell me I turn into an octopus-head.

A cat head or rabbit head would be fine, but I didn’t want anything cephalopod-related. I had no choice but to trust the tastes of the mansion’s butlers.

I looked at the mirror with nervous anticipation.

Ripples spread across the mirror’s surface, as if a drop of water had fallen, and the reflection blurred. The ripples trembled for a moment, then slowly settled.

And the figure that appeared was —

"...?"

It was the same.

Just my face.