Jupiter’s ASMR Addict.

Jupiter, the fifth planet of the Solar System. Orbiting that massive gas planet was the flagship Ark-01, the main base of the Jupiter Return Fleet—humanity’s last military force.

Outside the bridge window, Jupiter’s Great Red Spot swirled, its massive storm eye flashing large enough to swallow the entire Earth. It was a silent vacuum in space, yet the visual pressure alone felt like a front-line hell that could shatter one’s sanity.

In the highest seat of the bridge sat Commander Viktor’s chair.

“…”

The grey-haired old admiral, Viktor, wore sunglasses—tactical goggles—even inside the ship to hide the deep dark circles under his eyes. His biometric monitor displayed a red warning light.

He wanted to sleep. He desperately wanted to sleep. Yet whenever he closed his eyes, he heard the auditory hallucinations of Jupiter’s storms, and the screams of people from 20 years ago when they left Earth echoed in his ears. Neither the fleet’s cutting-edge sleep inducers nor the brainwave stabilizers worked.

“Commander. A routine report has arrived from the Earth reconnaissance drone,” reported the adjutant—an android—in a stiff voice.

“Report.”

“In Bureau District 3, Administrator Lee Han-gyeol’s behavior pattern remains unsystematic. Recently, he engaged in eccentric behavior, riding an old bus and emitting high-output sound waves—Trot. This is a clear waste of resources and…”

The adjutant’s report was dry and tedious. Viktor let out a sigh, fiddling with the micro-earpiece inserted in his ear.

In truth, he wasn’t listening to the adjutant’s report. Right now, he was playing a “certain data file” sent by Unit 001 Nohana a few days ago on an infinite loop.

[Plop… drip. Pat, pat… (Clear water drops striking metal plates)]

[Whirrr… (Low humming of server fans)]

[…Ah, refreshing. (Han-gyeol’s lazy voice)]

It was the recorded data from Episode 78, “Rain in the Server Room.” The fraudulent evidence Han-gyeol sent while insisting, “This isn’t flooding, it’s a natural circulation water-cooling system.”

To Viktor, however, that sound was no fraud. It was salvation. The sound of water drops hitting cold metal. A sound that seemed to smell like the damp air of his home planet, Earth, 600 million kilometers away.

Viktor’s heart rate began to settle strangely. His brainwaves shifted from sharp beta waves to gentle alpha waves. He closed his eyes. He felt the illusion that Jupiter’s storm had vanished and he was lying on the old sofa in Office 402’s rainy server room.

“Commander? Are you listening? The staff suggests we immediately bombard the Bureau.”

The adjutant’s sharp voice broke Viktor’s short nap. Surprised, Viktor adjusted his sunglasses.

“Ahem! I am listening. Bombardment, you say? It is too early.”

“But the Bureau’s data contamination level…”

“The data analysis is not finished yet! That… that rain sound! There might be a high-level code hidden inside it. I must listen to and analyze it myself… very precisely. Therefore, put the attack on hold.”

“Pardon? You have been analyzing the rain sound for 40 hours already.”

“That means it is a complex code! Leave me! I want to be alone!”

The adjutant withdrew with a puzzled expression. Left alone on the bridge, Viktor put his earpiece back in. But a problem occurred.

[Playback complete. End of file.]

“Ah… No.”

The recording file was only 15 minutes long. He had looped it so many times that he could memorize the exact order of the falling raindrops. His brain had developed a tolerance. He couldn’t sleep anymore.

Viktor’s hands trembled. It was a withdrawal symptom. He needed something stronger, longer, and with more varied sounds.

Throwing pride out the window, he opened a private line. The recipient was the Earth dispatcher, Unit 001 Nohana.

Bureau Office 402. The crew, returning from their picnic, lay around in their own ways to shake off their travel fatigue. Han-gyeol became one with the sofa, Lucas was wiping sticker photos taken of himself, and Unit 001 Nohana sat blankly in the corner charging her battery.

Just then, a red notification popped up on Unit 001’s internal network: [EMERGENCY: Direct Line from Fleet Commander].

“!!”

Unit 001 bolted upright. A direct line from the commander? Were they caught going on a picnic? Or was he calling to reprimand her for dancing to Trot on the bus? Her processing unit was on the verge of overloading from panic.

“B-Boss! It’s a call from the Commander! A disciplinary measure will likely be issued…”

The atmosphere in the office froze instantly. Han-gyeol stopped chewing his gum and grew tense.

“Patch him through. Get ready to play dumb.”

The hologram turned on, revealing Commander Viktor’s face. His condition was strange, however. His usual frost-like dignity was nowhere to be found; his face was gaunt, his eyes hollow, and he looked fidgety.

『…Unit 001. Report.』

“Yes! Dispatcher Nohana! Currently, the Bureau is… um, operating very normally…”

『Enough of that.』

Viktor cut her off. Looking around, he lowered his voice to a secretive whisper.

『That… among the report files sent last time, there was one called ‘Rain_Cooling_System.mp3’, correct?』

“Pardon? Ah, the flooding from Episode 78… I mean, the water-cooling data?”

『Yes, that. By any chance… do you have long-duration operating data for that system? Say, a 10-hour version? Or… other types of cooling noises?』

Unit 001 was stunned. What was he talking about? Why was the Commander looking for rain sound data?

Listening beside her, Han-gyeol’s eyes narrowed. With his 600 years of experience, he caught onto the situation immediately. That old guy was heavily addicted to ASMR right now. Severely so.

Han-gyeol pushed Unit 001 aside and stepped in front of the camera.

“Ah, Commander. Hello. I’m Lee Han-gyeol.”

『…Administrator. I am not asking you. Hand over the data.』

“Data? Ah, the rain sound? That’s hard to make, you know. Since it’s natural circulation, the timing has to be right, and we have to manage the water quality…”

Han-gyeol stalled. Viktor’s eyebrows twitched.

『Stop beating around the bush. What do you want?』

“As expected of the Commander, you’re easy to talk to. We’re a bit short on research funds lately. Could you… extend the hold on the Earth bombardment? By about 6 months?”

Hearing this would make the staff officers on the bridge faint. Swapping a military operation holding the survival of humanity for a single mp3 file.

Yet Viktor didn’t hesitate for a single second.

『3 months.』

“Aww, don’t be stingy. Don’t you know the latest trend is ‘long take’ videos? Making a 10-hour continuous playback file means my crew has to stay up all night.”

『…Understood. 6 months. In return, I have a condition.』

“What is it?”

『Rain sounds alone are not enough. I want a variety of everyday noises. The sound of burning firewood, coffee brewing, turning paper pages… sounds that exist only on Earth.』

Desperation bled into Viktor’s voice. Having spent his whole life in cold metal and the vacuum of space, Earth’s everyday noises were a nostalgia stronger than drugs.

Han-gyeol grinned.

“Deal made. Initiating production of Bureau Office 402 Healing Package Vol.1. We’ll send it over tonight.”

The moment the communication ended, Office 402 transformed into an ASMR studio.

“Alright, gather around, everyone! This mission is ‘Sound Making.’ The goal is to put the Commander to sleep.”

Under Han-gyeol’s direction, the androids moved busily.

[Track 1: Bonfire Vibe]

Paul brought dry branches from the rooftop. But they couldn’t light a fire indoors—the fire alarm would go off. Lucas stepped up. Placing the branches over a 600-year-old electric heater, he produced “crackly… crackle…” sounds with his mouth. Rather, to be precise, he synthesized the sound of burning firewood by adjusting the speaker’s noise output. Paul rubbed leaves beside him, adding a “rustle…” sound.

[Track 2: Late-Night Cafe]

Lucas took charge of his specialty field. He poured mix coffee oil into a glass filled with ice—coolant crystals. Trickle… slosh. Then he stirred the ice with a teaspoon. Clatter, clatter. The sound was extremely refreshing. Who knew the sound of a machine brewing coffee could be this soulful?

[Track 3: Scratching Pen Nib]

Caleb brought thick paper—scratch paper. Using a fountain pen—actually a sharp stylus—he wrote meaningless formulas on the paper. Scratch, scratch, stroke… glide. A regular yet comfortable friction sound. The very sound that brings sleep when listening while studying.

[Track 4: Cat’s Purring]

Butterfly was summoned in front of the microphone. As Han-gyeol scratched Butterfly’s chin, Butterfly vibrated its neck in pleasure. Purr… purr… Mixed with the slight electrical current sound—zzzt—unique to electric cats, an strangely cyberpunk yet warm ASMR was completed.

Unit 001 Nohana shook her head while recording this entire process with a high-performance microphone.

“Unsystematic. Delaying a strategic decision just to listen to this noise. The human brain structure is truly incomprehensible.”

“Hana, you do one too.”

Han-gyeol suddenly thrust the microphone up to Unit 001’s mouth.

“Pardon? I have no such function.”

“The sound when Unit 001 breathes—when your cooling fan turns—sounded nice earlier. Like white noise. Just stay still.”

Unit 001 stood blankly in front of the microphone. The precise gear sounds turning inside her and the regular fan noise were recorded. Whirrr… phew… A stable mechanical sound. Reminiscent of a heartbeat inside a mother’s womb, it was a “mechanical lullaby” that calmed the listener.

At 3:00 AM, the file transfer was completed.

[Transferred: District_Healing_Pack_Full_Ver.zip (Size: 50TB)]

[Contents: 10 hours of Rain, 5 hours of Firewood, 3 hours of Coffee, 2 hours of Cat Purring, Bonus Track (Unit 001’s Breathing)]

Jupiter Fleet Control Room. Commander Viktor opened the file with trembling hands.

“…”

The first track, the sound of Lucas brewing coffee, flowed out. Clatter… trickle… Viktor’s stiff shoulders lowered. The cold air of the bridge seemed to instantly transform into the warm scent of a cafe.

Next, the sound of Paul’s firewood burning played. Crackle, crackle… rustle. Viktor leaned back in his chair. He remembered the smell of dirt from a campsite on Earth 20 years ago.

Finally, the short intro line recorded and sent by Han-gyeol played:

『…Commander. It’s cold over there, right? It’s warm here. When you come visit later, I’ll brew you a real cup of coffee. Until then… get a good night’s sleep.』

A faint smile spread across Viktor’s lips. He took off his sunglasses and set them on the desk. Inserting the earpiece deeply, he closed his eyes.

“Yes… Coffee. Not bad.”

10 minutes later, the sound of snoring echoed across the main bridge of the Jupiter Fleet. His first sleep in 72 hours.

The adjutant AI approached and checked the Commander’s status.

[Status: Deep sleep. Entered REM sleep. Brainwaves stable. Stress levels normalized.]

The adjutant nodded and issued an order to the entire fleet:

“All fleet attention. The Commander has entered ‘detailed analysis of critical tactical data.’ Until the analysis is complete—until he wakes—all military actions are halted. Minimize engine output. Maintain silence.”

The fleet stopped. Massive spaceships floated quietly over Jupiter’s orbit. The launch countdown of missiles aimed at Earth paused as well.

The reason was simple: the old man fell asleep listening to a lullaby.

Bureau Office 402. Han-gyeol cheered upon seeing the message on the monitor: [Payment Received: Fleet Attack Deferred by 6 Months].

“See that! This is a cultural victory! ASMR is stronger than guns and swords!”

The crew cheered. Unit 001 Nohana, however, spoke with a worried expression:

“Boss… but what if the Commander gets bored of this? What do we sell 6 months later?”

Han-gyeol popped his gum with a crisp crack and grinned.

“Don’t worry. The items are endless. Next is Mukbang. The sound of Lucas drinking oil is killer, isn’t it? After that, we’ll send Butterfly videos under a virtual cat-owner concept.”

“…”

Unit 001 let out a sigh, but she knew it as well. This absurd “content selling” was the most peaceful and surest way to protect the Bureau.

The Bureau was no longer a simple management district. It was evolving into the solar system’s only healing content workshop, comforting a bleak universe.

On the night of Episode 84, the Bureau and Jupiter were connected by “sound” across a distance of 600 million kilometers. The war was deferred, and peace rested in their ears.

“Good night, our top VIP customer.”

Han-gyeol raised a toast toward the sky facing Jupiter, then collapsed onto the sofa and fell asleep.