"H-Help…"
All that remained now was to confirm it.
"Elder Sir."
I knelt down in front of him, meeting his eye level. I leaned in just enough to whisper into his ear, making sure no one behind me could hear.
"You read the directive, didn't you?"
"...!"
"The confidential government directive about 'The Paradise Test'."
The dull, vacant eyes that had been clouded with confusion suddenly regained a faint spark of awareness.
"H-How did you—!"
"One moment, please."
As expected.
'So it's true…'
After brief consideration, I took out a Happy Maker syringe from my pocket.
– Ah, preparing for another interview, are we?
'…Yes.'
I needed to talk to this man, no matter what.
To secure the information I needed—and to subtly dispel the growing suspicion that I knew too much about this situation from the start.
I injected the potent painkiller into the back of the Silver Heart owner's hand.
Phhk.
"Huuuuhk!"
With a loud gasp, his convulsing body immediately stilled, collapsing onto the floor with a soft thud.
And then—
"Hiiic! Hiiuuhk! Hiic, hicc…"
Tears streamed down his face as he drooled onto the ground.
"What the hell? What's wrong with him?"
"…He's fallen too many times into the altar."
Judging by his condition, he had likely been thrown out at least five times.
Since Happy Maker was a painkiller, not a restorative, his shattered mind wasn't going to recover fully.
But at least he could talk now.
"I can't… I-I can't do it anymore…!"
"...Yes."
This man was the key.
Thankfully, he began providing valuable information right away.
The Silver Heart owner, tears streaming down his face, grabbed my shoulders as soon as we made eye contact. His grip was desperate.
"You! You know, don't you?!"
His trembling hands tightened around my shoulders.
"Seven! Seven times is all it takes! W-We can do it!"
"What exactly do we need to endure?"
"The altars!!"
Then, with a pleading tone, he added,
"I know what this is. This, it's. I know. It's managed by the government! Over there, we, we have a department dedicated to these kinds of phenomena—this is part of it. I've seen it myself!"
"..."
"I read it! I-I worked in that place—"
Behind me, I could hear the elite team members murmuring.
"Ah, so he's a retired employee of the Disaster Management Bureau?"
"Hmm… maybe he has some useful equipment."
They were spot on.
I pressed forward with more questions.
"I understand, sir. Then, can you tell me—what exactly is this supernatural phenomenon?"
The retired lower-level office worker from the Disaster Management Bureau, still half-delirious, began spilling bits and pieces of classified knowledge.
"Uuhh, the thing is, this—this supernatural phenomenon. It's, uh, if you survive seven altars. Just seven altars—it ends. Just a dream… oh, It's all just a dream. And, and that's why our photography club…"
He trailed off, his cloudy gaze shifting around the carriage.
He looked at the other members of the Blue Photography Club, lying on the floor, writhing in pain and madness.
I understood now why they had ended up like this.
'The Silver Heart owner convinced them…'
He had persuaded them that they only needed to sacrifice themselves once to reach the seventh altar.
But not everyone had the same kindness and courage as the Silver Heart owner.
Some resisted. Others hesitated or panicked. Some were too afraid to jump when it was their turn. Amidst the chaos and arguments, the Silver Heart owner likely became the example—jumping out of the window repeatedly to encourage them.
And the more he fell, the more his mind broke, and the contamination from his Silver Heart spread to the entire car.
Trapped in a cycle of pain and contamination, everyone in Car 1 eventually lost their minds.
At some point, they all started jumping out of the window, their sanity fully shattered.
Eventually, they unlocked the door and spilled into the other cars, causing the chaos that followed.
'That's when things took an even darker turn.'
That was why we couldn't forcibly open the door to Car 1 earlier.
If we had, we would have triggered a full-blown catastrophe with the half-crazed Silver Heart owner leading the charge.
'That's why we had to wait.'
Until the right timing presented itself.
Even the owner of the Silver Heart wasn't a god.
At some point, amid the madness, confusion, and crumbling sense of self, that passenger must have desperately wanted help from others.
But by then, it was already too late.
The chaos unfolding in the other cars had reached a level that couldn't be undone…
The moment they gave up and wrestled with accepting help from others—
There had to be peace outside Car 1, and the appearance of an alternative solution.
Something convincing enough for their shattered mind to reach out and unlock the door.
…But this was the 14th loop. By now, Car 1 was already hell.
"I-I'm sorry, e-everyone… It h-hurts so much… hiiiiiic…"
"..."
This is maddening.
The overwhelming tragedy of seeing this firsthand hit much harder than any prose I'd read in the wiki.
'That's why we need to escape quickly.'
I bit down on my lip and asked the critical question—the one that could give me the decisive clue.
"Elder, the train you saw in the directive… which train was it exactly? Was it this one?"
"Hiiic, yes. It's this train, that's right. The train to Iksan. The train bound for Iksan…"
Supervisor Dolphin tilted her head, puzzled.
"Iksan? That's strange. This train is heading to Mokpo."
Baek Saheon quickly chimed in.
"Um, actually, we do pass through Iksan Station, Supervisor."
"Oh, really? So, Iksan is just a stop along the way?"
"Yes, that's correct."
But instead of trusting Baek Saheon's explanation, Dolphin decided to verify it herself.
She strolled through the filth-covered aisle of Car 1, ignoring the sobbing and chaos around her. Eventually, she pulled a booklet from a seat pocket and quickly flipped through it.
She nodded after confirming the details.
"Aha. Yup, that's right!"
"Okay. Then, according to the retired Disaster Management Bureau employee, we just need to get through seven altars, correct?"
"Exactly. Seven altars… which means 28 sacrifices—oh, wait a second."
She froze.
"Seven altars?"
"..."
Ah.
She caught on.
"Um, Supervisor Roe Deer."
"Yes."
"Did you know that train routes often get extensions over time?"
"That makes sense."
"So, maybe this train used to have a shorter route. Maybe back when Iksan Station was the final stop."
"..."
"That could be why it was originally called the Iksan Express."
Bingo.
She nailed it.
Technically, the route had been extended in the mid-2010s—from Iksan to Mokpo.
"And one more thing."
Dolphin's finger stopped at a specific section in the guidebook.
"From Seoul to Iksan, if you're on a local train, you pass through exactly seven stations."
"..."
"So, those altars we've been passing through—those are the stations."
Right.
"And if we follow that same logic…"
She flipped the page with a flick of her wrist.
"Unlike the old Iksan route, the current train to Mokpo passes through nine stations."
She clapped the booklet shut.
"Which means the altars aren't over at seven—we have to pass through nine altars."
"..."
"And that means we need to offer sacrifices at nine altars, totaling 45 people."
It was a chillingly accurate deduction.
'As expected of an elite employee.'
And that truth explained why the passengers in Car 1 had completely lost their minds.
■■th Loop :
After passing the seventh altar, an eighth altar appeared.
The supposed 'solution' provided by the Silver Heart owner—their one thread of hope—was shattered.
With that hope gone, Car 1 fell into a spiral of rage, fear, and panic until everyone mentally collapsed.
'…It's a relief we didn't get to that point.'
I wouldn't have been able to handle it.
As I let out a silent sigh of relief—
"But, Supervisor."
Dolphin turned toward me.
"You only have 11 doses of painkillers, right?"
"..."
"And you've already used one, which leaves 10. So…"
"We need 45 people to jump, but the painkillers will only cover 10 of them, right?"
-x-X-x-
– What a surprise! The moment of a difficult choice has arrived, Friend.
Braun's cheerful voice echoed in my ear.
– So, Mr. Roe Deer, you have only 10 passes in hand, but there are 45 poor candidates who must fall into that wretched altar of rotting flesh to suffer. What criteria will you use to select the 45 sacrifices and then choose the 10 lucky ones to be spared?
– A trial? A vote? A review process? A lottery? Oh, it all sounds terribly unfortunate…
Braun's voice grew more and more excited.
– But isn't that tension, pressure, suspense, relief, joy, and despair the essence of a great show?
– This is the ultimate moment. Ah! Look over there—a panelist is speaking!
At that moment—
"It doesn't matter, does it?"
Assistant Manager Jin Nasol spoke up.
"Assistant Manager?"
"Whether there are 10 painkillers or just one, what difference does it make? Just grab 45 people and throw them out. That's all."
Her tone implied she couldn't understand why this was even up for debate.
She turned toward me and added—
"Isn't that what you set everything up for in the first place?"
Click.
The assistant manager lightly pushed the door to Car 1 open.
"…! Assistant Manager…"
"Look."
Through the slightly opened door, I saw the passengers in Car 2, waving and offering concerned smiles.
The hundreds of friendly people, creating an atmosphere where everything was progressing smoothly without friction.
"Well, this turned out better than I thought. I figured all this would be a waste of effort, but now it seems like it'll make things easier."
"..."
"After all, the people on this train don't really understand what's happening, do they? They won't figure it out until after they've fallen."
…It was the truth.
I could grab anyone right now and say, 'You've qualified as one of the 45, and it's your turn to jump out.'
They wouldn't even know they were supposed to receive painkillers before falling.
They'd simply jump without preparation… into what felt like hours of endless torture.
"And if it doesn't end at the ninth altar, we can just keep making them jump until no more altars appear."
"..."
"So, let's start throwing them now—"
"That's not possible."
"…!"
Someone else answered.
It was Supervisor Dolphin.
She looked up at Assistant Manager Jin Nasol and firmly replied—
"It's not possible."
"Really?"
Jin Nasol's temple twitched, but she was skilled enough to give the other person a chance to explain.
"Then what do you suggest?"
Supervisor Dolphin, staying true to her nature, offered a solution that's very like her.
"Just pick out the worst people and throw them out."
"Are you crazy? Why would we go through the hassle of doing that?"
At that moment—
marquee.addEventListener('finish', function() { loopCount++; if (loopCount >= 84) { marquee.stop(); // Stops after 84 loops } });
"It's time."
Jin Nasol strode toward the exit of Car 1.
Supervisor Dolphin's eyes gleamed, and her hand twitched as if ready to act… W-Wait just a second!
"Wait!"
I quickly stepped in front of the assistant manager.
"What."
…It felt like standing on the edge of a cliff.
'Stay calm. Be cautious.'
I swallowed hard and spoke—
"The supervisor's suggestion makes sense. We shouldn't just tell people to jump blindly."
"..."
"What I mean is, there's a valid reason to do it this way!"
"A reason?"
"Yes."
I took a deep breath.
Stay calm.
I had to reflect what I knew from the narrative story into my argument naturally.
"Assistant Manager, when you went out the window, you heard the voice at the altar filled with rotting flesh, didn't you? The one saying things like, 'Abandon your sins'." ʀ₳ＮÓΒÊs
Cast away your sins.
Tear off as much as your sins deserve.
The strange, overwhelming resonance that even Happy Maker couldn't block out.
Without it, I would've been clawing at my skin, burning with pain.
"And?"
"If the voice is that powerful, it must be deeply connected to this phenomenon. I think that in this Darkness, the keyword is 'sin'."
"..."
"The keyword we need to clear this."
Jin Nasol stopped walking.
"Keep talking."
"Yes."
I swallowed again.
"Isn't it strange from the beginning? Why do the sacrifices wake up on the train again after falling? If they've been offered as sacrifices, they shouldn't return."
"They come back messed up, though."
"Yes, but that's because they follow the voice telling them to 'tear off as much as their sins deserve'. The pain drives them insane."
I connected two things that had been vaguely lumped together over 14 loops.
"So, the sacrifice isn't the person itself—it's the 'flesh' they offer in proportion to their sins, isn't it?"
"…!"
Haven't I gone over this before?
When the cult madness spread, passengers from all the cars killed each other, held deranged rituals, and tossed corpses out the windows.
If you were to count the number of people who had fallen to their deaths, the ninth altar should've been easily surpassed by now.
And yet, despite looping hundreds of times, this nightmare never ended.
The reason was simple.
"The people themselves are not the sacrifices. It's their sins they're offering at the altar."
"..."
"And the people return."
After completing the offering, the person always walks back through the altar and returns to the starting point of the train.
That's how the loop resets.
Although they come back half-crazed from the pain of 'tearing off their sins', the person themselves always returns.
"They leave their sins behind, in the form of torn flesh scattered throughout the passageway."
Chewed, vomited, and discarded as they go.
"That's what I believe is the offering."
The agony.
The searing pain proportional to their sins. The voice echoing in their head.
Once you see the tunnel littered with rotting flesh from that perspective, it's easier to understand.
Those grotesque remains aren't just remnants of gore—they're accumulated offerings.
"So, the surest way is for someone with sins to offer them at the altar and letting them fall down. …That's what I think, at least."
"..."
"..."
Clap, clap, clap.
Supervisor Dolphin softly clapped from behind, but Assistant Manager Jin Nasol remained perfectly still.
"Of course, my theory could be wrong. But isn't it rational to take the safer route, just in case I'm right?"
Maintaining eye contact with Jin Nasol, I pleaded earnestly,
"So, for a safe clear, please allow me to convince the passengers—"
"You."
The assistant manager opened her mouth.
"You're a good liar."
"...!!"
"Well, I'd rather deal with someone who can talk than someone who can't."
"Assistan—"
"This is the third time."
Thud.
She grabbed me by the collar and lifted me into the air.
"Venerable Pathfinder!"
"Aaaah!"
"Getting lenient with you seems to have no end. We have to dive into the next Darkness at Mokpo Station, but you're wasting my time and energy here?"
From beyond the connecting corridor, passengers from Car 2 screamed and ran toward us. But Jin Nasol didn't flinch.
She calmly shut the door to Car 1 and locked it.
Click.
"Be grateful I'm wasting my time explaining this to you."
She leaned in close, her face right in front of mine.
"You said the offering is the flesh torn off their bodies? Then how come those people you injected with painkillers didn't offer anything, and yet they moved on to the next altar just fine?"
"…!!"
"According to you, they didn't give any offerings, and yet the train progressed just fine, didn't it?"
That's…
"You knew the truth, didn't you? You lied."
...
"You've been caught."
– Oh my goodness!
That's right.
I'd tried to con her.
'Didn't expect to get caught this fast, though.'
Sweating, I forced a smile.
But most of what I'd said was true.
Except for one thing.
The conclusion.
"Of course."
The grip on my neck tightened.
"So, we can just throw anyone into the altar, right?"
"Y-Yes, that's right."
I confessed willingly.
"The amount of sins they offer probably doesn't matter. Even if they don't offer anything at all, the act of entering the altar is what's important."
And beyond that—
"After all… in this Tamra-bound train, it seems like everyone is considered guilty."
We've seen it, haven't we?
Even the virtuous owner of the Silver Heart had to tear at their own flesh at the altar.
In the twisted logic of this nightmare, no human is free from sin.
Everyone is a sinner—the difference lies only in degree.
So, if the goal is to clear the loop, there's no need to waste time picking and choosing the 'worst' people.
"Now you're making sense."
Jin Nasol let go, dropping me.
I barely managed to regain my balance and gasped for air.
"Good. Now stop wasting time and make sure everyone cooperates efficiently."
"..."
I forced a smile despite my aching body.
"That sounds strange."
"What?"
"Assistant Manager, you've made an inefficient choice."
Thud, thud!
I glanced back at the passengers knocking on the door, Supervisor Dolphin, and Baek Saheon.
"If you proceed with your method, you'll have to fight three of your own employees."
"…!!"
"And since the passengers just saw you grab me by the collar, they'll resist you fiercely and fight back no matter what you do."
"..."
Given how things had already unfolded, the 'most efficient plan' Jin Nasol had in mind was bound to meet massive resistance.
The passengers wouldn't cooperate at all!
And now that the situation had reached this point, Supervisor Dolphin would certainly side with me and work together to overpower Jin Nasol.
"Of course, Assistant Manager, you could subdue all of us, but that would be such a hassle, wouldn't it?"
"A great point, Supervisor!"
Supervisor Dolphin smiled and stepped closer.
"Why go through all that trouble? Just take a nap, and the three of us will handle everything."
Behind her, Baek Saheon had a face that seemed to say, Me? Seriously? But instead of siding with the assistant manager, he silently rolled his eyes and kept his mouth shut.
Since I was an elite team member now too, he'd likely choose to align with the side that had the numbers advantage.
"So, Assistant Manager, could you just turn a blind eye this once? Please?"
"..."
"This isn't really company business—it's just a situation we happened to get caught up in. We just want a slightly safer and calmer approach. It'll only take a little more time."
Please!
'Jin Nasol is a rational person.'
She's not the type to throw tantrums and take the long way around just because she's annoyed.
That was my only hope.
But still, she's human, and humans can act unpredictably when their mood sours.
Especially an elite team superior—she'd naturally feel resentment toward two subordinates opposing her.
I swallowed hard.
"Just as the Supervisor said. This isn't exactly work, is it, Assistant Manager?"
"..."
"..."
After a tense silence, Jin Nasol stomped across Car 1. Then, she sat down on an empty seat.
"…Thank you."
She didn't reply. She simply closed her eyes with a blank expression.
Clearly, she was holding back her anger.
Honestly, challenging a superior during an official mission was a crazy move!
Phew.
I'm sorry, Assistant Manager…
But once this is over, I believe the results will be efficient enough for her to accept them.
For now, though, I needed to act quickly.
"…Let's get this done right away."
We were nearing the first altar.
Supervisor Dolphin seemed to think the same, as she began unlocking the door.
"Alright! Let's head out and pick 45 wicked people to drop!"
Uh…
"Supervisor, about that—"
"…?"
"Could we approach it a little differently?"
"Oh?"
* * *
Drrrk—
I opened the door to Car 1.
"Oh! It opened—huh!"
"W-What is this place?"
The passengers who had been discussing whether to break down the door looked relieved when it opened but recoiled in shock upon seeing the horrifying state of Car 1.
Their fear faded slightly when they saw me.
Probably because the 'answer sheet' they trusted on this train was still standing.
I bowed my head.
"Thank you all for waiting."
"Are you alright, venerable Pathfinder?"
"That person earlier…?"
"I'm fine, of course."
I glanced at Jin Nasol and forced a bitter smile.
"She was helping me snap out of it after I discovered something shocking."
"Shocking?"
Huu.
"Everyone, I have something to tell you."
I took a moment to steady myself as I faced the hundreds of expectant eyes before me.
"This time, there is no limit to who can leave through the window."
"Ooohhh!"
"And this will be the last time."
"..."
"Excuse me?"
"What does that mean?"
"It's exactly as it sounds."
I spoke slowly and clearly.
"After this, the trial will be over."
The passengers murmured, some asking what I meant and whether everyone still needed to jump through the window.
"Originally, yes—everyone was supposed to go out one by one. But there's been a change."
The passengers fell silent, listening intently.
"Everyone here has qualified."
"T-Then!"
I nodded.
"Yes. Anyone can go through the window and pass the trial."
"Oh my god!"
"Then I'll…"
I raised my hand to stop those who were already stepping forward.
"However, this time, it will be painful."
"…!!"
I said it plainly and honestly.
"When you fall, you will feel searing pain as you walk. You may even feel the urge to tear your own flesh off. You'll have to fight through the pain and the voice echoing in your head, taking one step at a time toward the light…"
The passengers fell silent.
They began exchanging glances and whispering.
Then, someone shouted from the back.
"This isn't what you promised!"
"Yeah! You said you'd protect us…"
I nodded.
"Of course. If you don't wish to participate, you don't have to."
"H…Huuuh?"
"But there is one thing I can guarantee."
According to the confidential document from the Disaster Management Bureau about the Iksan Express, where this same ghost story ended safely in the past…
When this ghost story ends, the passengers will suddenly awaken at the starting point of the train, as if waking from a nightmare.
They'll brush it off as a 'bad dream' and go back to living their normal lives.
The events aboard the Tamra Express will fade like an unpleasant dream within half a day, and eventually, they'll forget everything.
However…
A few changes were observed among those who voluntarily jumped through the window.
I remembered the passage.
A passenger who habitually verbally abused their subordinates apologized immediately after getting off the train and never did it again.
A passenger who used to jaywalk out of habit felt too ashamed and stopped doing it. Another passenger, who had only considered volunteering at a youth center, actually started doing it.
Even a scammer involved in an insurance fraud scheme abandoned the plan and handed over information to the police.
Overall improvements in morality, self-esteem, and pride were observed.
Exactly.
As long as the train didn't endlessly loop but ended safely as it had in the past, the horrifying pain from this ghost story would remain nothing more than a fleeting nightmare, quickly forgotten.
But the positive changes would remain.
'…That's why, when this ghost story happened on the Iksan Express, the Disaster Management Bureau didn't label it as a disaster—they simply documented it in a confidential report…'
In short, if I exaggerated just a little—
"Those who go through the window this time will feel proud of themselves when they emerge from the tunnel."
I continued.
"Instead of regretting what you did yesterday, you'll be someone who steps forward in the moment. You'll meet a better version of yourself without shame."
A small voice came from the crowd.
"…Is that the answer?"
I met the passenger's gaze and slowly nodded.
"Yes."
"..."
"That much, I can promise you."
The crowd fell silent again.
"Then, let me ask once more. Is there anyone here willing to endure the pain and go through the window?"
...
"I will."
I turned my head. Supervisor Dolphin had raised her hand.
And then—
"I'll go too."
One by one, more hands went up.
"I will."
"Me too…!"
On their faces was a strange sense of exhilaration, overcoming their fear.
This was crowd psychology.
A double-edged sword.
But after 14 loops, the collective bond and influence that had built up among the passengers now manifested as something reverent.
Their courage inspired those closest to them.
In an instant, nearly half the passengers on the train had voluntarily raised their hands.
…The ending I had worked so hard for, even playing the role of a cult leader over 14 loops, was now right in front of me.
"Everyone…"
First Altar Entrance
"Thank you. I will go with you."
Just as the Silver Heart owner had once envisioned.
-x-X-x-
"Supervisor, I'll go now. I'm fine going alone."
Dolphin Supervisor volunteered to be the first to jump at the first altar.
Since someone had to take the lead and jump alone, and there needed to be someone to stay behind to manage and confirm the final group of passengers, I had to remain until the end.
However, Dolphin Supervisor wasn't entirely alone.
"Then, I'll go too…! For the first one!"
"It's better to do it first if you're going to do it anyway."
There were so many volunteers that even at the first altar, a few people ended up jumping together.
And we haven't begun in earnest yet.
Remaining distance : 4
"There's still time to back out if you want to."
But no one backed out, even at the final decision point.
"Let's go!"
"Ahhh!!"
With Dolphin Supervisor leading the charge, more than seven people rushed and jumped through the window, into the first altar.
Open the sea path
The train quickly passed through the altar, and the surroundings brightened once more.
"Oh…"
The passengers blinked at the now-familiar scene, repeated for the fourteenth time, a sight that had become routine.
"T-They're gone."
Of course, it didn't seem much different from the previous jumps.
But that was because the real effects of not having the painkiller only kicked in after they'd already fallen.
And then, a strange reaction began to occur.
People started thinking, Was it not that big of a deal after all?
Some suddenly decided they wanted to jump too.
Like this person.
"Excuse me! I'd like to go as well!"
This particular passenger was someone Dolphin Supervisor had previously flagged as a candidate for sacrifice after witnessing their nasty behavior.
Early in the loops, this person had raised their fists and shouted things like, "Get lost before I punch you." But now, they conveniently seemed to have forgotten all that and approached me as if nothing had happened. řâ𐌽ՕꞖЁš
Well, that's fine.
"Then you can jump from the second altar…"
"No, I'd like to go with you—specifically with you, venerable Pathfinder, at the very end."
"…Hm. Understood."
If that's what you want.
– What a rude person.
Braun wasn't wrong.
I heard the passenger talking with someone in the background.
"Hey, what are you doing? Why are you suddenly volunteering to jump?"
"Can't you see what's happening? I'm sure if we jump, we'll get some special ability or reward. It's obvious. You've got to ride the wave when it comes."
Hmm.
'There's…'
No such thing.
"And all that talk about pain? Probably just a bluff to scare us off."
Nope.
'You'll actually be in searing pain.'
Well, they'll confirm it themselves soon enough.
Still, it wasn't my job to correct these people's misconceptions. I let them believe what they wanted. I simply added their name to the list of volunteers and took another look at their face to make sure I had the right person.
Wait.
That mole on this person's cheek…
I hadn't noticed it before because I'd rushed past him earlier, but now it stood out.
'And he's from Car 6, right?'
I remembered someone with those exact features.
Hmm.
'That's the passenger who was supposed to become the cult leader in one of the previous loops.'
– Oh my! Did he lose the role to you, Mr. Roe Deer?
Ugh. As much as I hated to admit it… it seemed like that was the case.
'I guess with how smoothly the past fourteen loops have been going, things like this can happen.'
Still, it was much better than the chaos from the original—where the cult leader dragged passengers around, harvesting their organs for live sacrifices, and tossing their hollowed bodies out the window…
The important thing was that most of the volunteers were calm and determined as they headed toward the altar.
"Let's do this."
"Let's become better people!"
"We've got this!"
The atmosphere grew oddly positive. Some passengers even teared up while waiting for their turn.
"This is my first time really challenging myself…"
"That's amazing!"
As the passengers encouraged each other and shared honest stories, I turned to look at one person standing off to the side.
Baek Saheon, who was looking at all these people with a look of utter disbelief.
"…Pardon me. I don't know why you're looking at me like that, but I'm not going to jump."
"Understood."
I hadn't expected him to volunteer anyway.
"But, you know."
Baek Saheon lowered his voice this time.
"If you give me one of those painkillers, I might consider jumping."
"Oh? Then, will you use it right now?"
"No, after this is all over and we get off the train."
"Oh…"
I smiled.
"No thanks."
"..."
'He really thought he could get a free item, huh.'
"Ah, we've reached the fifth altar, venerable Pathfinder!"
"Yes, let's proceed."
Leaving Baek Saheon behind, I mingled with the passengers, offering advice and applause to the volunteers.
It was my way of fulfilling the role of the Silver Heart holder.
And then…
About three hours passed.
Ninth Altar Entrance
"..."
At last, the final moment had arrived.
"Let's go."
"Yes."
I stood together with the remaining volunteers. This time, more than twenty people were lined up to jump through the window.
'This number is insane.'
To be honest, it scared me. If these people started writhing in pain and resenting me afterward, would my mental state hold out?
"Let's go!"
"Yes! Down we go!"
Without hesitation, two or three people held hands and leapt through the window one after another. I watched until the last of the volunteers jumped, then moved to the window myself.
"A-Are you really going, venerable sir?"
Technically, I could step back now without affecting the clear.
But still…
– Ah, are you going to use that excellent painkiller again, Friend?
...
'No.'
I returned the painkiller to my pocket.
And launched myself through the window.
SPLAT—
My body tumbled into the crimson corridor of the altar after falling from the high-speed train. The moment my senses began to register the surroundings—
'God damn.'
It was pure, unfiltered hell.
I couldn't believe I hadn't been disturbed by this scene before. Despite having experienced this twice, the difference without the Happy Maker was overwhelming.
The ground writhed with countless rotting flesh pieces, squirming like worms, while decayed blood and filth formed a grotesque sea.
A-Are these hallucinations? No, I have the silver ring, so I should be… No, stop. Stop thinking.
I took deep breaths, allowing the ring's protective effects to kick in. At least the dreadful voice that had once echoed through my mind was gone.
'Focus… focus…'
At that moment.
Searing pain engulfed me.
"…!!"
I nearly collapsed.
It burns.
It burns!!
I
T
B
U
R
N
S
I
T
B
U
R
N
S
I
T
B
U
R
N
S
Each letter felt like molten wax searing my entire body.
The absence of the voice didn't lessen the agony. Around me, those still hearing it were writhing in torment.
"Madness! This is madness!"
"Aaaaaargh!"
"What's it saying…? Sin? Sin?!"
Cries, screams, and chaotic babbling filled the altar. My head spun.
Thud.
Nearby, someone collapsed into the pile of flesh. I bit back a scream and helped pull them out.
"Grkkk…"
Painkiller.
I focused only on supporting the person and preparing to inject the Happy Maker when—
Suddenly, the pain lessened.
'No… that's not right!'
It wasn't that the pain had decreased. It was that where my body was in contact with the other person—on my back and shoulders—the pain didn't register, making the rest more tolerable.
"…Ah!!"
I realized something.
Where there was physical contact, the scorching pain wasn't felt. The body wasn't exposed to the altar's environment!
"Everyone! Stay close to each other! It helps with the pain!"
I linked arms with someone nearby as I shouted. The message spread quickly.
"Don't expose your bare skin! That's where the voice comes from!"
"Grab someone's hand!"
Groups of scattered people began clustering together, huddling close.
"Get off me, you piece of shit! Aaaaah!"
Of course, not everyone was coping well. Some still panicked, shoving others into the flesh piles.
"You fucking bastard! I won't let this goooo! You lied! You liiiii■■■"
That one man, who had arrogantly joined the group earlier in hopes of gaining 'special powers', screamed curses at me before sinking into the mire.
But over twenty people managed to band together, pressing close like penguins.
"We're holding on…"
"It's bearable… It's bearable!"
"Let's move!"
Linked together, we interlocked arms and pushed forward, sticking as closely as possible. Our intertwined hands gripped one another firmly, preventing any self-harming reactions. Feet scattered the decaying flesh as we ran.
Screams and cries echoed, but so did words of encouragement and determined shouts.
A shared sense of purpose.
"We're almost there!"
The light drew closer. Slowly but surely.
Just a bit more.
A bit more…
And finally—!
"Ah…"
The people let out desperate cheers as they hurled themselves into the light.
"Whooaaaaa!!"
I, too, was engulfed by the light, my consciousness slowly elevating into a distant euphoria. Though the voice had long since vanished…
...
Suddenly, a thought occurred to me.
Perhaps, this test that the ghost train presented had never been properly solved until now.
And at this moment, I felt like I had glimpsed the direction of the answer.
'What if, in Tamra…'
What if, by having all the passengers on the train jump together and go through this process, we could reach an unknown world?
* * *
I opened my eyes.
"Huuuhk!"
"Urgh…"
"Ah… W-What is this?"
All around me, I heard people gasping for breath and letting out small groans.
The distinct jerking movements of people waking up from a nightmare were evident, as I saw chairs shaking across the train car.
I immediately lifted my head to check the train screen.
There were letters on the display
Bound for Mokpo
Then, it changed.
Departing
Fweeeeet!
With a high-pitched sound, the high-speed train began pulling out of the station…
"Oh, we made it back safely."
"…Yes."
Escape, successful.
'Huuuu…'
I exhaled, my body slumping fully into the seat as the tension drained away. But the moment I glanced at the seat in front of me, I snapped to attention.
'…Assistant Manager Jin Nasol!'
She was sitting there, arms crossed, silently staring at the ceiling of the train with an unreadable expression.
Of course, it was all part of a dream now, and since she hadn't jumped through the window in the end, she probably wasn't too angry. But still…
'I should still do what needs to be done!'
I quickly rummaged through my pocket and pulled out something designed to restore energy to a no-nonsense, efficiency-obsessed superior like her.
It was something that all three of us in this section had.
"…Assistant Manager."
"..."
"The Dream Essence Collector is full."
Clear, golden liquid shimmered inside the collector as it sloshed.
Right.
Since we were technically on a business trip, we had brought Dream Essence Collectors with us. By clearing this ghost story, they had been filled.
'If we had cleared the ghost story back when it was still just the Iksan Express, we'd probably only get an F or D-grade…'
But an abnormal phenomena had occurred, and the route was extended. And then there were the double-digit loops, and there were numerous people jumping through the altars this time…
"It's a C-grade."
The same grade as the Darkness we were supposed to explore in Mokpo.
Now that the collectors were full, entering a new Darkness wouldn't have any benefit.
Assistant Manager Jin Nasol's expression finally shifted.
"Then we don't have to go to Mokpo anymore. We can return at the next station."
"Yeees!"
Relief washed over me, and I let out a deep breath.
'Thank goodness.'
For a corporate worker, going back home early is truly the best gift.
Just then, I heard murmuring from the seats behind me.
"Hey, I had the weirdest dream. The train was running on water or something."
"Haha, what? That sounds like nonsense."
"But it was fun. Everything was chaotic, and there was even this saint-like figure they called the venerable 'Pathfinder'—that guy sitting right in front of us."
"Wait, seriously?"
"…!"
H-Hold up.
It seemed my stint as a cult leader had left a lasting impression on some people.
'I need to get out of here.'
I quickly excused myself to my superiors and discreetly headed for the restroom.
Click.
"Huu."
Okay. I'll hide here for a few minutes until the details of the dream started fading from their memories.
– You're like a celebrity avoiding overzealous fans…
It was embarrassingly accurate.
But this wasn't a bad outcome.
'No, it's actually a great ending.'
A faint sense of pride spread through my chest.
...A sense of peace that the original passengers of the Tamra Express had never experienced.
'Because back then, the ending had been far more horrific.'
It was seared into my memory, even without referencing the wiki.
At one point in the endless loops, the passengers' minds had completely broken. They had descended into collective madness, becoming something no longer recognizable as human.
By then, the train cars had become a living nightmare, where the mere concept of deciding to jump through the windows was lost in the sea of pain.
'But if you repeat the process enough times, there's always a chance that someone stumbles upon the right answer…'
After countless restarts and endless time, they eventually gathered the correct number of sacrifices for the ninth altar and escaped this anomaly.
But in a sense, they never truly escaped.
Even for those who experienced being offered once, the trauma lingered for several minutes afterward, as if waking from a terrible nightmare.
So what happens to those who endure it hundreds or thousands of times?
'…They could never escape the nightmare.'
The passengers presumably did not realize that the supernatural phenomenon had ended and they had returned to reality.
They mistakenly believed they were still trapped in the loop…
In fact, as their mental strength partially recovered upon returning to reality, their despair intensified, leading them to act even more irrationally and violently.
Thus, even in the real world, hell descended.
The majority of the passengers killed and dismembered each other on the spot—on their seats, in the aisles, and near the windows.
After that horrifying chaos and madness, the train derailed…
And exploded.
This was how the 'Tamra Express Disaster' met its terrible conclusion.
Survivors : 7
Casualties : 404
…Thankfully, this outcome hadn't become reality.
I let out a deep breath of relief.
Um, now that everything was over, I finally had the time to question a lingering mystery.
Supervisor ■■■
The only known employee from Daydream Inc. who had survived this incident in the original scenario.
The same employee who presumably had the same silver ring I was currently wearing, having bartered it with three civilians at Death Lane.
Where exactly had that person been?
'Or rather… were they even here?'
I didn't know.
The only company employee I had directly confirmed aboard the train earlier was Baek Saheon.
And since I didn't want to cause unnecessary trouble or draw attention by sniffing out all the employees, I let it be.
'Well, in any case, it all worked out.'
If they were aboard, they must have survived since the incident had ended peacefully.
What mattered was that the tragedy originally tied to this train had been averted.
Bang, bang, bang!
Ah—
'It's time to leave.'
Someone, impatient from waiting, was knocking on the bathroom door.
I quickly jotted down a few notes in my smartphone's memo app to hold on to the fading memories of the past 14 loops, splashed cold water on my face, and stepped out of the train restroom.
Click.
The person waiting outside barged in the moment the door opened.
'They must've been in a hurry.'
I passed by them and headed back to my seat.
Fwick—!
"You fucking piece of shit."
I instinctively lowered my gaze.
A box cutter.
The blade had narrowly grazed past my chest.
"…!!"
Fuck!
I immediately stepped back while grabbing the attacker's forearm and twisting it sharply.
Clang!
The cutter blade fell to the floor with a sharp clang as I pushed the attacker down and pinned him to the floor.
That's when I saw his face.
"You bastard—ah, ahhh!!"
This lunatic.
Cold sweat trickled down my back.
'The wannabe cult leader!'
"Fuck! It hurts—damn it, it hurts!!"
It was the same person who was left behind at the ninth altar!
'This insane idiot…'
"You lied to me?! Then die, you bastard, you piece of—"
I forcefully slammed him into the floor once more.
Thud!
A short, dull impact rang out.
And he passed out.
"Hahh…"
My hands were drenched in sweat.
'Did he lose his mind after we left him behind there?'
Considering his already bad personality, he had probably experienced even more suffering during the offering because of his greater guilt.
Still, even if it had been a nightmare, it must have been a particularly severe one for him.
What an uncontrollable temper.
'No wonder he ended up like this.'
I wiped the sweat off my face.
At least the blade hadn't cut through my chest or caused any pain.
Why?
'…Good thing I wrapped myself in protective packaging beforehand.'
I hadn't expected to be dragged into another ghost story during our trip, but I had prepared for the possibility by layering my skin with a protective wrapping item before departing.
The item, 'Wrapper 12B357나', was something I'd bought from the alien shop.
Given the death prediction I had received, it had been a sensible precaution.
'Still, I didn't think I'd be dodging death from a knife-wielding maniac rather than getting done in at a ghost story…'
Was this the death prediction I had been warned about? Did I just narrowly avoid it?
'What do you think, Braun?'
...
...
No response.
"…Braun."
An unsettling feeling crept down my spine.
I had just been slashed across the chest.
Though the packaging had protected my skin, the outer layer of my suit—specifically, the left chest pocket—had taken damage.
And in that pocket was…
"…Braun?"
Still.
There was no answer.
My heart pounding, I hurriedly reached into my suit pocket.
My trembling fingers pulled out the fluffy animal plushie inside…
Plip, plip, plip.
Cotton fell to the ground.
The pink fabric dangled, torn and frayed, as the broken plush keychain swayed in my hand.
"..."
I stood frozen, staring at the plush doll, now split in two.
My hand slipped.
The coin tumbled out from the lower half of the torn plush toy's insides.
"…!"
I hurriedly clamped it shut, pressing the two torn halves together as if that would fix it.
"Braun?"
But of course, there was no response.
The upper half of the plush toy merely slid off the bottom half.
"..."
No.
No, this couldn't be it. Maybe it was because I was staring at it…!
"Braun."
I turned my head and closed my eyes, pressing the plush toy close to my ear.
Then…
– ■■, ■■■■■…
"…!!"
There was a faint vibration from the plushie.
It was definitely a signal.
But it was incredibly faint, like the static from a stray radio frequency.
'He's still there.'
He was still there. In that case…
'Bloodbathtub!'
Click. I immediately locked the bathroom door and pulled out the small, checkered bathtub with golden legs from the tattoo on my wrist.
The so-called Bathtub of Youth.
Thud. The tub settled on the floor, and I carefully placed the nearly severed plush toy inside.
Then…
I picked up the box cutter the unconscious passenger had dropped during the failed attack.
Without hesitation, I slashed my forearm.
Blood poured from the opened veins.
'There's no time for alternatives in this kind of emergency…!'
Cutting the unconscious guy's arm was risky—he might wake up or I wouldn't be able to stop the bleeding.
'I can't handle any more chaos.'
My blood spilled into the tub. The scent of wood and fragrant aromatics wafted through the air.
The plush toy began to swell as if soaking up the bath salt's essence.
It was rejuvenating.
Its fur grew cleaner, shinier, and its pebble-like eyes shimmered mysteriously.
And then it started to expand rapidly.
It seemed to reach a threshold, soaking in the bath until it grew from keychain size to something that filled both my hands.
It now resembled the original 'Good Friend' plush.
Pop.
The bow-shaped hair tie snapped under the pressure and flew off, landing against the tub's side.
The transformation was undeniable.
But, but…
The plush toy was still silent.
"..."
Holding my breath, I leaned in again, pressing my ear close to it.
The faint vibrations from earlier were gone.
The plush toy, its body still torn, merely floated on the aromatic bathwater.
"..."
I stared at it again.
The plush toy, now large enough to fill the small tub, gleamed as if it had just been handcrafted by an artisan.
But it remained severed.
'Ah.'
The Bathtub of Youth restored youth, but it didn't heal wounds…
"..."
I had known this.
I knew it, but I had tried anyway.
The Good Friend plush was broken.
I took a deep breath.
'It's fine.'
I could get another one.
Yes, I just had to get it from its original source instead of relying on the merch box.
The Cheerful Theme Park still existed. The Good Friend plush was a souvenir sold in its gift shop.
'I was going to go there anyway, so this is actually efficient.'
I could get a new plush there and summon it again like before…
...
"...Ha."
Who was I kidding?
I already knew.
The method for summoning a Good Friend didn't summon the same specific being—it summoned 'someone' from the otherworld.
'There's no guarantee the same one will appear again.'
In fact, it would be strange if it did.
I had enjoyed reading the
'Ha ha…'
Ha…
"..."
I had no choice but to admit it at this point.
It wasn't because of any mental contamination.
I had genuinely grown attached to this strange plush toy…
'But who wouldn't, right?'
After all, he really had been a 'Good Friend'.
He encouraged me when I was struggling, got angry alongside me when I was mad, had deep conversations with me, and stayed up at night watching comedy shows.
He was the kind of friend who prioritized me without any calculation.
The kind of friend you could only meet back when you were a kid in school…
"..."
Okay.
Let's see what else I can do.
"Maybe I should try sewing it back together."
If that doesn't work, I can search for a recovery item, dive into a ghost story that repairs items, or dig through any relevant information and attempt something new. There are plenty of options.
For my sanity's sake.
"Let's give it a shot."
I calmed down a bit. The overwhelming panic I had felt from the unexpected incident was subsiding, replaced by a sense of clarity and calculation.
'First, let's clean this up.'
I reached into the Bloodbathtub and pulled out Braun's upper and lower halves, dangling separately. I was about to neatly gather the stuffing and store the plush toy when—
'Huh?'
A piece of fabric flapping on the back of the plush caught my eye. It was a small silk tag sewn along the seam that connected the head to the body.
'…A tag?'
It seemed like the faint traces that had previously emerged during the last bath had now fully returned.
'The Good Friend's… product label, maybe.'
You know the kind—labels indicating origin, washing instructions, handling guidelines, or even a creator's or buyer's signature.
My gaze naturally fell on it.
The label looked properly formatted, with a structure typical of product tags. Strange, tiny, incomprehensible symbols were written in rows. But that wasn't what stood out the most.
Across all that information, there was something scrawled in thick black marker, almost like a form of censorship.
Label Removal Required
[Ah.]
[So it's here.]
SNAP—
A massive hand grabbed the tag.
It was a hand wearing an elegant, tailored dress glove. The thumb quickly covered most of the label's text as the hand yanked the tag.
[Gotcha.]
The hand was emerging from the torn body of the Good Friend plush I was holding.
Riiiiiiiiiiiip.
The lower half of the plush split open as the arm, then the shoulder, emerged. A second arm violently pushed against the sink.
The rest of the large body spilled out, filling the cramped bathroom space.
A towering figure, dressed impeccably in a brown three-piece suit with long legs, polished black dress shoes, and—
A vintage television for a head.
The screen displayed a smiling face.
[
]
The giant TV head tilted toward me, emerging fully from the shredded lower half of the plush toy.
[Mr. Soleum!]
Its head bobbed as the host gripped my shoulders.
[Oh dear, you must've been terribly worried about me! Haha! But no need for concern any longer. Now… Here I am—your dependable host, Braun, has found you once again!]
The ghostly host twirled the label between his fingers, causing the tattered upper half of the plush toy to dangle back and forth.
[Ah, restoring this tag was a fantastic move! Thanks to it, I could find this address. Phew.]
[I don't expect applause or praise, but if you insist, I won't decline. Haha! I happened to wrap up a live broadcast rehearsal just in time for this.]
[And here we are, meeting again so soon!]
"..."
[Mr. Soleum?]
What… is this?
[You don't seem happy to see me. Hmm… Oh! Is it because the plush toy is damaged? Of course. Audiences are always affected by what they see, aren't they? But not to worry!]
Snap—
The host snapped his fingers.
[What do you think of this?]
The emoticon on the TV head vanished.
In its place, something shuffled into view on the screen.
…A Good Friend bunny plush, wearing its signature bow tie.
[Look! Your plush friend has returned—right here on my screen! Isn't it still adorable? Oh, it's even waving!]
"The Good Friend…"
[Exactly! Your Good Friend is right here. I, Braun, am your Good Friend!]
No.
"The Good Friend…"
"Is supposed to be a plush toy."
...
...
[Mr. Soleum.]
Click.
A pinpoint spotlight shone on the narrow bathroom, turning it into a studio set.
The light focused on me and the legendary host standing before me.
I couldn't turn away.
[Ah, I see now. You were holding back because of a major misconception. But that's perfectly fine. After all, I am a very kind and skilled show host.]
[And, as always, I'm quite good at explanations. Now, let me clarify this misunderstanding for you.]
The gloved hand grasped not just the tag but the broken plush toy itself.
The Good Friend bunny plushie that had been displayed on the TV screen vanished in a flicker, replaced by the familiar smiling emoticon.
And then—
Fwoooooosh!
…The Good Friend plush toy in the host's hand was incinerated.
[This is nothing to worry about.]
As the host dusted off his hands, a small handful of ash scattered from the gloves and fell to the floor.
I watched it happen in a daze.
But—
'It wasn't just about embedding a part of someone in the toy to make them act like a friend…'
[Now… Let's think back. How exactly did you summon your friend?]
...
A strange item that invites someone from the Otherworld, allowing a part of their spirit to dwell in the doll and become your friend.
In other words, using the plush toy, the tie, and the coin, I had…
[You summoned ME.]
The host pointed at himself.
[If a phone breaks, does it cancel your evening plans? If you destroy your mailbox, do the bills disappear? If you rip up a love letter, does the relationship end? We already know the answer.]
[Of course not!]
[So here's the question.]
[Does destroying the plush toy cancel your invitation?]
The host spread his arms wide.
[Not a chance!]
Ah.
[What you performed was an eternal ritual. Oh yes, indeed…]
"..."
My stiff mind slowly processed the sentence.
'So then—'
The Good Friend ritual wasn't about summoning only a small part of a non-human entity and trapping it in the plush toy to act as a friend.
The plush toy was merely a filter, limiting how much of that entity was revealed—like a roleplaying game for children.
[Do you wish to continue calling this a friendship? Then I will forever be your friend, Mr. Soleum! Ah, what a beautiful term—eternal friendship!]
The TV head displayed an emoticon with teary eyes, but it quickly returned to a wide, cheerful smile.
[And our MVP participant—once again, you've shown impeccable timing! Mr. Soleum…]
The hand gripping my shoulder gave me a supportive pat on the back.
And then came the words—
[The new talk show is ready.]
"...!"
[New guests, a new set, new music, a new season… Everything has been prepared for filming. My humble talk show, designed solely for the audience's enjoyment.]
[Let me introduce you to your new job…]
No.
I instinctively stepped back, reaching for the door.
I had to get out of here, escape this spotlight, clear my head, think—
[Oh dear.]
The smiling emoticon vanished from the TV head.
No.
The screen went black.
[You said that you were a fan of my show and that you enjoyed it so much, even when you had just been a contestant. But now, when presented with the chance to truly be part of the show, you're running away? After all the advice, help, unwavering support, and dedication I've given you?]
[Mr. Soleum, isn't friendship supposed to be a mutually supportive relationship? This emotional and one-sided rejection! It's, it's… heartbreaking.]
I felt like I was going to vomit.
"S-Sorry…"
[Oh, no need to apologize, Mr. Soleum. Mindless apologies are not a virtue for a show creator.]
[And as always, I'm a host who can understand and empathize with my guest's innermost thoughts and feelings…]
[So.]
In the next moment—
[This Braun shall kindly and sincerely persuade you.]
Flicker.
The screen filled with a massive, smiling emoticon.
Filled.
Completely.
"Wait…"
But the giant vintage TV head was moving closer.
Closer.
Even closer.
[Now…]
Look at me.
Click.
The vintage television turns on.
The black screen dominates my entire field of vision and mind.
I can't look away.
I have to watch.
Channel locked!
A special message
just for you
is now
playing
Cheerful, classical orchestral music plays in the background.
Then, a black-and-white video begins.
Starring : Kim Soleum
A weary young office worker in their mid-to-late twenties, wearing a black suit.
Sometimes, they sit at a desk, writing documents with a bare face. Other times, they wear a strange horned mask, narrowly escaping death while running through the dangers of ghost stories.
It's me.
Are you feeling down?
Exhausted?
Suffering from endless tasks, verbal abuse, and office politics?
Are you anxious, unable to trust anyone, living in fear of when you might die next?
When that happens, you should sit in front of a TV and watch something fun and new!
I see myself, sitting blankly in front of a TV after returning to my company-provided housing.
I'm watching a children's cartoon, trying to calm my fear.
But the cartoon ends quickly, as children's shows do.
I sit in a daze for a while, staring at the blank screen, before heading to my room and attempting to sleep.
Have you ever been afraid that the show would end?
Of tomorrow coming?
Did you dread returning to a job that suffocates you, day by day, with stress, anxiety, and suffering?
Is it that, the deeper you think, the more trapped and scared you feel, as though there's no other path to take?
Are you enduring the unbearable, simply because you think this must be the right way?
...
I… I…
For people like you!
Just a moment now. Don't panic. Take a deep breath.
A perfect alternative,
A new path has found you!
Ba-bam!
On the screen, a spotlight shines on my bedroom door.
The door swings open dramatically, revealing a silhouette in a sleek brown suit, head replaced by a vintage TV.
It's the host.
The answer you've been waiting for!
I jump out of bed, shake hands with the host, and smile in relief. I throw the mask and briefcase out the window without a second thought.
With a snap of the host's fingers, the company housing turns to ashes, revealing a dazzling, brightly lit studio.
Standing on stage, the host and I beam with joy.
Scenes I've never lived are mixing seamlessly with my memories, piercing my mind with their uncanny, dizzying realism.
It's just like the real thing.
The new talk show host is witty, charismatic, full of humor, and always listens to and understands your worries!
Accept this perfect offer from the one you personally invited, and everything will get better.
It's the kind of job no one would want to turn down.
Prepare for your new life!
No.
No, I.
I need to go home…
Oh dear!
Struggling with homesickness?
The scene shifts.
It's me again, but not my past self.
It's me, now.
Staring into the TV.
We lock eyes.
Face-to-face.
Starring : You
I see myself reflected on the screen like a mirror.
But the me on the screen looks distressed, his face twisted into a grimace, on the verge of tears.
No, that's not me. I'm not making that face right now… right? Am I? Am I frowning right now? Stop! I'm getting dizzy. I press both hands against my face, trying to calm down.
My vision goes dark.
But the TV remains clear.
Below my face, a caption appears:
Why are you always longing for home?
Do you crave the happiness of escaping an uncomfortable, burdensome environment?
Do you cry at night, yearning for peaceful sleep without fear or nightmares?
Fear not.
The greatest talk show awaits you!
No.
This is a special message for you—yes, you!—who is currently watching:
The crew members of the greatest talk show have no faces.
No discomfort from unfamiliar faces. No awkward interactions. Just the ideal workplace.
Join us now!
This is madness.
Faceless coworkers? Who would want that? I certainly don't—
In this workplace, no one struggles with hiding who they really are.
And neither should you, dear viewer.
Feel free to reveal yourself!
Your talents and ideas will flourish in this one-of-a-kind job.
The legendary host has personally turned down countless applications to reserve this spot just for you!
...
It's a job so appealing, no one would want to say no.
Welcome to your new home!
No, NO!
On purpose, he keeps using the word home. He knows I want to go home. That's what he's doing.
But what I want isn't a new home. I've never wanted that.
What I want…
What I wish for… is to return to the world I originally lived in, the familiar world. That place.
A place where I don't have to worry about being eaten by monsters on the street. A place where ghost stories are just entertainment. My friends and family are all there.
And I shouldn't forget!
I have the silver ring in my hand right now.
I can resist this. I can resist this.
Images flickered across the TV screen—grisly black-and-white news clips.
[War, poverty, climate crisis, terrorism, plagues… and all the other small, horrific tragedies. Hell can visit anyone, and you are no exception.]
[In any reality, we cannot choose which tragedy will strike. Unless it's on a show, of course!]
But that's…
[Oh, you already know, deep down. The place you call 'home' and this place aren't really all that different.]
[Does it matter whether the monsters from stories come to life or whether real monsters roam the streets? What matters is your suffering.]
Braun spread his fingers, folding them one by one as he listed various disasters.
[Death that strikes without warning? Tell me, is there such a place where death announces its arrival beforehand? It's equally terrifying everywhere.]
[Your peace in that world is just as fragile and meaningless. It can be shattered by the push of a button by some maniacal dictator…]
[In the end, isn't this just about your subjective experience, Mr. Roe Deer?]
I stared blankly at the TV.
[And subjective experiences are not truth. They're distorted perceptions unique to you.]
[Set aside your biases, Friend.]
That… that can't be true…
...
...
Right?
It felt like something didn't quite fit, but I couldn't find the words to argue back.
It sounded convincing.
But surely, this isn't just about my perception.
[That's okay. Acceptance always takes time. This Braun is always here to talk things through with you… Just like always!]
[For now, let's develop this conversation further, shall we? Let's dig a little deeper.]
Braun's voice softened as he asked,
[What is it that you truly want, Mr. Soleum?]
[Let's think beyond 'going home' for a moment.]
...
What do I truly…No, wait.
How does he know so much about my situation?
He's reading my thoughts completely.
How much does he know? How deeply has he understood me?
And if he already knows what I'm thinking, does arguing have any meaning? Is there even a way to escape?
Wait. Can he hear this thought too? How much of my mind is the host able to read? Does he know about the things I've learned from the Dark Exploration Records… ŕàƝǒᛒЁś
[Mr. Soleum.]
I felt like I was going insane.
The fear was suffocating me. I just wanted to escape this situation…
[Exactly! That's it!]
Huh?
[You've finally realized it, Mr. Soleum. What your heart truly desires!]
The host snapped its fingers with a loud SNAP—
[To escape fear.]
"…!!"
The TV screen moved closer.
[And look here, we have a quick and guaranteed method…]
How to
Escape Fear :
Join Braun
and Create a Talk Show
Together
[You will be comfortable and enjoy yourself in my studio.]
[With the passionate spirit of a show creator, your creativity and brilliance will shine even more brightly when fear is absent. This Braun fully guarantees it.]
[A workplace where you don't need to overthink—just focus on making great shows. Free from any other dangers, welcome to the studio of this legendary host.]
The words sound the same, but they feel different.
I don't find them absurd anymore.
That's terrifying.
[Hush now, shh. No need to be afraid. Let's listen to this Braun's words…]
[Now, Friend, can you take a moment to look at your hand? Yes, just like that… What do you see?]
…The silver ring on my index finger.
[Correct! And what does wearing that signify?]
...
'That I—haven't been corrupted.'
It means my judgment hasn't been consumed by the anomaly, and I'm in a state where I can think clearly, resist mentally, and make rational decisions like any human being.
[That's right! If this were a quiz show, you'd have won a prize—how unfortunate.]
[In any case, this means your current decision isn't wrong. Take a deep breath and relax.]
[How do you feel right now?]
I—
[Let me guess… 'Braun's words make sense, and maybe it wouldn't hurt to give it a try, just this once?' Right?]
...
...
But…!
[Exactly!]
[Now, let's seize this opportunity together, Friend.]
Braun stands up, adjusting his suit with the poise of a business partner ready to close a deal.
[All it takes is a handshake.]
[No complicated contracts are needed between us. Just a handshake and we'll start working together.]
...
[Don't you want to spend peaceful days free from fear and pain? All you need is a stronger friend by your side and a more enjoyable job ahead.]
[And if, by chance, you don't find it enjoyable at all… you can return to your original workplace.]
...
"Really?"
[Really.]
...
[Seize this chance, Friend.]
[This is your moment.]
I raised my trembling hand.
And extended it.
Toward him.
[That's it.]
Firmly.
The host's large hand completely engulfed mine in a handshake.
[You won't regret this, Friend.]
The surroundings brightened.
Lights poured from every direction, and the cramped studio expanded, revealing itself as it emerged from the shadows…
[Now, introducing your new workplace, Mr. Soleum! Your new colleagues! Your new life!]
A pristine set, a stage adorned with sparkling bulbs, and above it, a classic golden sign glowing with elegance…
[The thrill of witnessing, the joy of connection, the excitement of unpredictable developments, anticipation—all of it in this humble space that desires nothing but the audience's applause.]
Braun's Late-Night Talk Show
I…
[Congratulations on becoming a part of it, Mr. Soleum.]
…had successfully shifted careers.
-x-X-x-
A dark office.
Taka-taka-taka.
Someone sits alone, typing away.
Letters appear on the illuminated monitor screen.
--------------------
Report (Draft)
Author : Lee Jaheon
20XX. 01. 02. Eyewitness testimonies of the clearance process of the anomalous C-grade Darkness that occurred aboard the Mokpo Express, and the (presumed) death of Supervisor Kim Soleum.
--------------------
The typing continued at a steady rhythm, with no hesitation or pause, as if the timeline was already neatly arranged inside the writer's head.
--------------------
Witnesses : Employee A, Employee C, Employee F (Initials assigned based on team divisions for ease of reference.)
Employee A :
Are we really doing this interview again? I don't see the point.
Anyway… yeah. I boarded the train for a business trip, and next thing I knew, the train itself was running over the ocean.
Employee C :
The clearance went super smoothly! Supervisor Soleum led a lot of it, and it was really nice seeing him work so hard to minimize civilian casualties!
(Employee A inquired whether the anomaly was intentionally orchestrated by the company, but the Research Team stated that it was 'pure coincidence' — Further confirmation available in Interview No. 3.)
A three-person elite team successfully led the clearance of the anomalous Darkness. Collection of C-grade essence confirmed.
From this point forward, all testimonies consistently stated that the train was no longer an anomalous space but a fully real-world environment.
Employee C :
Supervisor Soleum was the first to check the liquid and then said he was going to the restroom. Right, 'that' restroom.
After the train's departure, Supervisor Kim Soleum left his seat, stating, "I'm going to the restroom." No contact for 15 minutes.
At the 17-minute mark, Employee F, who had been seated in Car 3, visited the elite team's section.
Purpose of visit : 'To say goodbye', according to testimony.
Employee F :
Ah, I've mentioned this before, but… I was on vacation, sir.
I got caught up in the anomaly unexpectedly, but I tried to stay calm and assist the team as best I could. It's only natural as an employee of our company.
After everything ended, I went to say goodbye to my superiors—then realized my friend—who's from the same recruitment batch as me—wasn't at his seat. So I went to look for him.
Employee C :
Oh, you were heading the wrong way at first, so I directed you to the correct way! I guess you instinctively turned toward your original seat!
Following Employee C's guidance, Employee F proceeded to the restroom.
There, they found a collapsed man outside the restroom door.
Condition of the victim :
– No external bleeding
– Both hands and feet had been removed
– The severed areas were covered in fine ash
A medical professional diagnosed that the limbs appeared to have been instantly incinerated by an extremely high temperature.
( Source : Somang Medical Center [Daydream Inc. Affiliated Hospital] )
Employee F :
I had a bad feeling about it. But the restroom door was locked. No response when I knocked.
Well… not to brag, but I'm pretty handy with locks. I tried unlocking it myself… and succeeded.
…But. (Sharp inhale.)
At the 21-minute mark, the express train restroom door was unlocked.
Employee F :
The restroom was… silent.
There was no one inside. Just a perfectly clean, ordinary express train restroom. Which made it feel even more wrong. So I instinctively stepped back to leave…
And that's when things started falling out of thin air. …Along with blood.
--------------------
The hands typing on the keyboard momentarily halted.
The cursor moved as the mouse navigated toward a desktop folder labeled 'Scene Photos'.
Several images were attached to the document.
Photograph of the interior of the restroom beside Car 7 of the blood-soaked express train.
The walls and floor are drenched in blood, with everything scattered haphazardly across the ground, stained red.
A mask, an employee ID, a briefcase, and… a Dream Essence Collector filled with C-grade liquid.
Yet, amidst the carnage, there was one pristine space.
A small, bathtub-shaped patch of tile—completely free of blood.
As if… someone had taken it away.
--------------------
Employee F :
And then, a giant hand suddenly appeared—ugh! Uuuurgh, it—it pushed me! Flash, flash, flash, flash… HelloThejoyofthisnightanewfaceeverydayandyourfamiliarhostGoodeveningthisisTheLateNightTalk— BLAAAAARGH (Interview terminated)
Contamination and PTSD symptoms. Fox Counseling Center referral recommended. Seventh interview ended.
A testimony from the fourth interview is hereby referenced instead.
(Fourth Interview)
Employee F:
A hand appeared from thin air—a hand with a halo, no, some kind of strange light, no… no, never mind.
(Deep breath.)
It picked up a strange bathtub that had fallen onto the floor. A small bathtub with a checkered pattern and golden feet. A-And… when that happened, blood spilled across the floor, and… something—
Something like a shredded black ribbon fell with it.
The hand grabbed the ribbon too. And then… on the mirror.
It wrote something.
--------------------
The typing hands stopped once more.
The writer reached for a printed photograph pinned to the board beside his desk.
A bathroom mirror, covered in blood, its surface serving as an inkwell for an elegant, cursive message.
Mr. Kim Soleum
is working somewhere else
starting today.
:)
--------------------
The Research Team theorized that the message was linked to the anomalous 'Tamra Express' Darkness that had manifested on the train.
(This hypothesis was considered highly credible and formally recorded in internal research logs.)
Supporting evidence include Supervisor Kim Soleum's active role in this Darkness's resolution and his unique ethical approach to clearing Darknesses, increasing the likelihood of irregular occurrences.
There is a possibility that, while on a routine business trip, he was 'invited' to a place called 'Tamra'—a yet-unknown space—where the message now hinted at his death.
Or, conversely, that Supervisor Kim Soleum had been chosen as the final sacrifice for Tamra Express.
--------------------
Tak.
The writer stopped typing.
Not because he didn't know what to write next—
"Section Chief."
"Assistant Manager Eun Haje."
—but because he had a visitor.