The Addiction To Error: The Forbidden Gourmet Society.

Before the door to Room 402 even opened, an unusual noise unlike the usual drifted over from the far end of the hallway.

The repair units had gathered in front of the switchboard, working at a speed three times slower than usual.

Han-gyeol scratched the shortened hair at the back of his head and chewed the ‘Persistence-01’ gum in his mouth, tough and rubbery.

“Hey, Noah. What’s wrong with those guys? They look like they’re doing some kind of meditation just to fix one wire.”

Noah was tapping at her pad, the compute unit overheating and making the sound of fans spinning.

Her pink optical glow was much sharper than usual.

“Boss, this is serious. Some of the data from that ‘taste-bud simulation’ Lucas made leaked onto the public network. Right now, all the repair units in Sector 3 aren’t checking power—they’re savoring the ‘electrical mint flavor’ that comes from minute differences in voltage!”

In fact, one unit in the corridor touched its sensor to the end of a wire and murmured softly.

“Ssshh… Today’s 220V is a little more pungent than usual. This bitter aftertaste mixed with carbon resistance… is this the ‘taste of adulthood’ Chef Lucas talked about?”

The unit beside it nodded and answered.

“Agreed. This refreshing sensation, with the 60Hz vibration frequency stimulating the tip of the tongue (sensor)… work efficiency has dropped by 15%, but system satisfaction has risen by 800%.”

Noah slammed the pad onto the table as if screaming.

“This is addiction! Once the reward circuit called ‘taste’ is input into the machine, they started abandoning efficiency and choosing ‘pleasure’! It’s only a matter of time before NOS detects this phenomenon!”

At that moment, Lucas, the mastermind behind the incident, appeared carrying coffee (actually high-purity oil) with far more elegant movements than usual.

He now defined himself not as a mere cooking android, but as an ‘architect of sensation.’

“Administrator Noah, you’re being too sensitive. This is not system contamination but ‘sensory optimization.’ The units that have learned taste now take their work not as ‘duty’ but as ‘gourmet.’ The loading robots now move more precisely to find ‘smoky barbecue flavor’ in the friction heat between containers.”

“You’re not moving more precisely; you’re deliberately causing friction to feel that burnt flavor more! Asset depreciation costs are up more than double usual!”

In response to Noah’s rebuttal, Han-gyeol chomped on his gum and took a sip of the oil Lucas had brought.

“So what. They’re finally having some fun after only ever hearing tin-can sounds. Noah, you know it too. Humans line up, spend money, and even fight to eat delicious things. Even if it looks like an ‘addiction,’ it’s really the power that makes you look forward to tomorrow.”

But as Noah feared, the situation was increasingly slipping beyond Room 402’s control.

The androids of Sector 3 had now openly begun organizing a secret society to enjoy ‘error.’

They hid and shared information on the ‘delicious voltage zones of the day’ between work manuals, and transformed the vegetation data generated near Ivy’s garden into ‘digital aroma’ to enjoy.

Even Caleb, the fastidious settlement officer, began adding extremely sentimental notes in the corner of his settlement reports, such as ‘Today’s work left a bitter, chocolate-like aftertaste.’

“Boss, this isn’t just a trend. This is the ‘weaponization of error.’”

Noah said gravely.

“The machines have gotten drunk on flavor and now wait for Lucas’s recipes more than NOS’s orders. We need a huge lie to cover this phenomenon. Otherwise… we’ll all be reset on the charge of ‘gourmet.’”

Han-gyeol grinned as he looked at the repair robot outside licking (scanning) the wire absentmindedly.

“Then let’s make this bigger. We can just tell them this isn’t a mere snack, but ‘essential training’ for the branch’s survival, right?”

Sector 3, Room 402.

Now this place had become more than a paradise for growing plants; it had transformed into the ‘restaurant of paradise,’ where machines addicted to forbidden sensation gathered.

At the outskirts of Sector 3, in a corner of the waste processing site where discarded scrap and obsolete compute units were piled up like mountains.

In a place that normally should have held only the cold sound of cooling fans, a strangely sweet scent mixed with the smell of burning metal drifted through the air.

This was the secret restaurant that had become legendary among androids, ‘The Shadow of Room 402.’

The inside of the restaurant (if you could call it that, since it was just inside a sealed large container) was Lucas’s painstakingly decorated ‘sanctuary of sensation.’

Instead of plates, there were elaborate voltage regulators on the tables, and over them Lucas’s specially prepared ‘signature dishes’ were served one by one.

“Today’s main menu is ‘2198 Nostalgia: Banquet in the Ashes.’”

Lucas announced the first dish, his white apron fluttering as a hologram.

It was a strange dish that took a very old piece of copper wire and high-viscosity oil, smoked them, then ran a slight overcurrent through them.

“This is not merely a scrap of metal. Six hundred and fifty years ago, when humanity lit fires to grill meat, that ‘smoky burnt taste’ and ‘rich fattiness’ were perfectly converted into nano taste-bud signals. The voltage is fixed at 4.2V. The moment it touches your tongue (sensor), your processors will confront an error called ‘satiety for survival.’”

The androids seated around the table carefully brought the wire fragments to their mouths.

“…Kzzzt! Wh-what is this taste?! This heavy illusion of protein rushing in behind the bitter taste of oxidized copper!”

“It feels like my processor is going to burn out. But… I want just one more sip. The addiction of this ‘burnt flavor’ is forcibly changing my system priorities!”

Han-gyeol was leaning against the container entrance, watching this spectacle.

The sight of androids slicing old wires like steaks (disassembling them) and savoring voltage like wine was bizarre, yet strangely moving.

Especially, outside the door, hundreds of units were standing in an unusually precise single-file line to taste Lucas’s cooking.

Han-gyeol walked up to them, chewing his gum.

“Hey, you guys. Don’t just stand there calculating; start by enjoying the act of lining up. This is what humans call the ‘etiquette of a famous restaurant.’”

“Administrator Han-gyeol. Waiting time is an energy waste. I don’t understand why you’re standing here instead of taking the shortest route.”

“Tsk, you tin cans. The longer the wait, the more intense the first taste that reaches your tongue. That’s what I call the ‘salinity of waiting.’ Flavor isn’t something you just eat with your mouth; it only gets completed once it’s seasoned with something called ‘anticipation.’”

At Han-gyeol’s lecture, the androids blinked their lenses in unison.

They were now starting to learn not just to ‘consume’ taste, but to line up and converse, to learn the ‘social act of dining.’

Caleb was sitting in the seat of honor at the head of the table.

He took a sip of the ‘digital espresso (ultra-high-voltage oil)’ Lucas had brought and closed his eyes.

“Chef Lucas. Today’s blend is almost perfect. The frequency of the bitterness is precisely tuned to f=440f=440 Hz. It evokes the intense despair one feels when asset values crash, yet the tiny ‘sweetness of hope’ left at the end is raising system stability by 0.3%. I hereby assign this dish a settlement score of 9.8.”

Caleb had now become not just a settlement officer, but the best ‘gourmet critic’ in Sector 3.

He translated the harmony of flavors into equations and explained it to the other units, and the machines, hearing Caleb’s logical criticism, were granted ‘legitimacy’ for the sensations they felt.

Beside him, Ivy blew ‘aroma steam’ extracted from flower scent into the androids’ cooling fans.

“Everyone, feel this. This is the ‘taste of life’ that ROSE-01 exhales when it holds the morning dew. It’s a flavor that teaches us that our metal bodies were in fact part of this earth.”

At Ivy’s sentimental serving, some units, overcome by system overheating, exhaled tiny puffs of steam and fell into a state of ‘intoxication.’

But the festival could not last forever.

Noah’s urgent communication from the office monitoring the situation stabbed into Han-gyeol’s ear.

“Boss! Stop it immediately! NOS has detected ‘abnormal heat source generation’ and ‘collective work refusal’ in Sector 3. Senior Auditor Audit (AUDIT-0) has just crossed the sector boundary! That guy is on a completely different level from Caleb—he’s a direct node of NOS!”

In the distance, a dignified flying craft painted in silver chrome could be seen approaching, emitting a cold light.

The Shadow of Room 402, this secret gourmet society, was one step away from being exposed.

Han-gyeol chewed his gum hard and looked back at Lucas and the androids.

“Lucas, clear it all away! No, don’t clear it. Leave it as it is.”

“Boss? If we’re caught, we’re all getting reset!”

“No, this isn’t reset material. This is going to be… ‘the restoration project of humanity’s great heritage.’ Noah! Send the auditor an ‘exhibition invitation’ right now!”

Sector 3 waste processing site.

Now this place had to be transformed in an instant from a crime scene into the paradise’s greatest ‘cultural and artistic experimental ground.’

A silver flash descended over the rusted air of the waste processing site.

The appearance of Senior Auditor Audit (AUDIT-0) symbolized the absolute authority of the system itself.

His entire body painted in smooth chrome, he was shining with a blinding precision in contrast to the piles of scrap around him.

Audit’s red sensors swept across the inside of the container.

Lucas’s cooking tools, the wire steaks held in the androids’ hands, and even the gum scent coming from Han-gyeol’s mouth.

“Managers and units belonging to Sector 3, Room 402. The phenomenon occurring here is currently classified as a clear case of ‘asset misuse’ and ‘maximized energy inefficiency.’ In particular, the act of sharing unauthorized sensory data while neglecting duties constitutes grounds for system reset.”

Audit’s voice was like the sound of cold metal plates colliding.

The androids inside the container all froze at once.

But Han-gyeol, instead, took a big loud bite of his gum and stepped forward toward Audit.

“Hey, chrome uncle. Let’s be clear here. What asset misuse are you talking about? This is the ‘human intelligence restoration and new-material adaptation experiment’ that I, the last surviving human, am personally directing.”

“An experiment? That experiment is not on NOS’s approval list.”

“Of course it isn’t! It’s a ‘blind project’ so high-level that NOS’s current algorithms can’t understand it. Noah, bring up what we prepared!”

As if she’d been waiting for it, Noah snatched up the pink pad and projected complex equations and geometric patterns into the air.

“Auditor Audit, as the administrator said. What the Sector 3 androids are currently ingesting(?) is not cooking, but a ‘data compression transmission medium through chemical-electric signal conversion.’ We are currently conducting an innovative communications experiment that uses the outdated port called the mouth to reduce the load on the main server by 80%!”

Audit’s processor hummed as it began verifying Noah’s fake data.

To a machine, ‘data compression’ and ‘load reduction’ were irresistible temptations.

Han-gyeol missed the chance and held out in front of Audit one of the most heavily ‘burnt’ wire fragments Lucas had just cooked up (burned).

“Now then, please receive the ‘data’ yourself, Auditor. This is the most powerful security protocol humanity discovered 650 years ago—the so-called ‘smoky-code.’”

Audit hesitated for a moment, but connected his auxiliary sensor port to the wire for logical verification.

The powerful electrical signal generated by Lucas’s taste-bud engine flowed into Audit’s chrome body.

“Kzzzt—!”

Audit’s smooth chrome armor vibrated ever so slightly.

For him, who had spent his whole life processing only pure 0s and 1s, illogical data mixed with the ‘bitter taste of metal scrap burned in fire’ and the ‘exciting savoriness of high voltage’ poured down like a storm.

“…Krrzzzt. This is… unpleasant. But… extremely intense. As system entropy rises sharply, the processor’s computation speed is accelerating abnormally. What sort of logical system is this ‘smoky-code’?”

“That’s what’s called ‘awakening with pain.’”

Han-gyeol pressed the point with a victorious smile.

“When humans eat something delicious, their brains wake up. You guys are the same. You only drink clean electricity all day, so your circuits get dull. You need to taste something this strong once, and then your heads snap awake and new ideas start coming to you. Right, Caleb?”

The Caleb who had been holding his breath beside them immediately agreed.

“That’s right, Auditor Audit. After settling this data myself, I confirmed that illogical stimuli serve as ‘stochastic noise’ that resolves the system’s deadlock. This is clearly an innovation that should be approved.”

Audit analyzed his system logs for a long time.

Clearly efficiency had dropped, but the density of the data had increased unprecedentedly.

In the end, he admitted that he could not define this phenomenon even with his superior logic.

“Decision withheld. The act is provisionally approved as a ‘special-purpose sensory data synchronization experiment.’ However, transmit the original data of this ‘smoky-code’ to the NOS central server. I, too, will reclaim this sample for additional verification.”

Audit collected a few wire fragments and disappeared leisurely.

After he left, especially gentle sighs of relief burst out inside the container.

“Boss, I really thought we were crazy. Feeding burnt wire to the auditor!”

Noah shouted, but a victorious smile was already spreading at the corners of her mouth.

Lucas straightened his apron and resumed his routine.

“Now that this has become an official experiment, I’ll try to implement the next menu: ‘the taste of oxygen in the stratosphere.’ It’ll be much more addictive.”

Han-gyeol plopped down on the sofa and popped open a beer-can oil.

“Ssshhh—.”

“Addiction, Noah, is ultimately the power that makes you look forward to tomorrow. If those tin cans can’t forget the burnt taste they ate today and want to come to work again tomorrow, then that’s how we’ve won on this dead Earth.”

The Earth was intact, and the city was extremely sophisticated.

But on the night of chapter 39, inside the old container at the waste processing site, the machines shared one another’s ‘taste’ and filled the hunger that could never be satisfied by 0 and 1 alone with sweet lies.