Faith (1)
Under the shelf, in the narrow storage compartment. I curled up tight, holding my breath. The musty stench of dust and mold assaulted my nose.
If I were still a guy, I could never hide in a spot like this.
The thought popped into my head. It was too cramped, and you had to be flexible. So there were perks to turning from man to woman. A smirk crept onto my face unbidden.
Was I happy? Hell no. It pissed me off.
What the fuck was good about being a girl? Hiding in a moldy hellhole like this made my blood boil. If this body were male, huh? I'd duck behind that door, and as those bastards came out, smash their skulls one by one—whack, whack, whack! Shatter their damn pots clean open!
—Heh, heh. Only after fantasizing about crushing my enemies did it hit me. Even if I were a guy, I couldn't have done it. I wasn't some Ma Dong-seok, after all.
Hoo. Think calmly, calmly.
Actually, gender's got nothing to do with this mess.
Sex didn't matter at all. This was just me being a dumbass and falling for it.
I trusted too easily.
The Lost Property Center at Terminal Station. A link from some random comment on the gallery. No official registry, sloppy rules. And that sloppiness hooked me.
It was begging for a takedown!
A rulebook full of holes like Swiss cheese. A chance to off the poster—how could I resist? Make money, kill the bastard. Two birds, one stone.
Stupid me.
Yeah. I was the idiot who fully trusted the Horror Survivor Gallery.
I slowly replayed my mindset. Had to, so I'd never fall into a trap like this again.
Why trust faceless strangers? Maybe that vague sense of belonging and faith in the 'Horror Survivor Gallery' community. Nameless folks, but sharing the same hell. The camaraderie. And the cheers and attention they gave me.
That's why I missed the big red flag.
They were survivors who'd clawed through horrors. Seen, endured, outlasted the insane and horrific. Expect normal morals or goodwill from them? Ridiculous. To those types, human life must seem dirt cheap.
Ten million won. Chump change to weigh against a life. Their world was that twisted.
—Kiiiiiik.
The Lost Property Center door finally creaked open.
"Bet she's passed out from the tea by now, right?"
"Ha. Sweet gig. Hope newbies like this show up every day."
"Realistically, how many newbies hit ten mil right out the gate?"
"Gotta have these lotto wins to make the job worthwhile."
I focused on the voices and footsteps. Three... no, four? All guys. Good thing they thought I'd bolted—no hint of caution.
Lucky break.
Once they all went deep inside, I'd slip out the entrance. My clearest, simplest escape plan.
"Let's go!"
"Loot fast and wrap it up!"
They moved. From my drawer crack, I watched, lips curling up.
Good. Get lost quick.
I'd memorized their rulebook. Didn't touch the tea, wide awake, watching you scrubs.
Slip out, then flood the gallery with troll posts! Kuhahaha!
"Boss, you not coming?"
"You guys handle it."
"Why? Letting you hog all the honey?"
—Thwack! A brutal smack echoed.
"You idiot. Didn't you see that newbie's gallery post? Smart one, even for a newbie. Gotta prepare for surprises. So you lot go."
"Ah... got it."
One stayed; the other three shuffled toward the center. Wait. Hold up.
Go. You go too!
I prayed silently, but the hulking brute plopped on the stairs, blankly staring down the hall.
Ughhh!
I mentally tore my hair out. My smartass post backfired!
Should've played dumber on the gallery!
Too late for regrets. Vowed to act stupider next time while brainstorming.
The only entrance—now blocked. Take him down?
Shook my head. Impossible. Me? A frail 160cm girl. Him? Buff adult male, geared for newbie hunts.
Head-on is suicide.
No options. I quietly pulled up the gallery. Users fretted over me. Posts poured in real-time.
I pondered posting a survival notice and begging for help, but noped out. Those thugs probably monitored the gallery. They'd get thorough if they knew I was alive.
Desperately scrolled for escape tips on 'Lost Property Center at Terminal Station' newbie ambushes. Nothing. Obviously—no survivors.
Then, radio chatter from outside.
The entrance guard bellowed angrily at the commotion.
"Start searching! Flip every shelf and shelf—find 'em!"
My heart plummeted. Staying hidden meant getting caught. What now?
Right then, a new throwaway nick posted.
The gallery drowned in fear. Moments later, a cryptic post from ''.
◆
Park Cheol-min. A 'human hunter' who preyed on backs in horrors.
Today? Jackpot lotto. Gallery intel: pure newbie with A-grade perfectHeteromorphic Crystal. Sucker.
One nagging doubt: rumors it might be gallery legend Hand Lost But Brain Fixed a Bit. First horror clear was newbie-transcending indeed.
But Park dismissed it as luck, beginner's fortune. Newbies stumbling into big catches happened sometimes.
Plus.
From data on nabbed newbies, no sane guy faked girl. All emasculated wrecks blurring reality and delusion. Weak prey.
Grinning slyly, he checked his gallery post. Soon-to-find teaser. No newbie replies—just cowering in terror.
"Boss! Nowhere!"
Subs returned from search, sweating in panic. Rare indeed: a newbie dodging rules, no tea coma.
Park smirked. "Idiots. One spot left unsearched."
He pointed: under the shelf.
That instant—
—"Eek!"
A faint gulp. Sweet prey breath. Park's lips curled as he approached slowly. Step. Step.
At the shelf, he shoved it aside without hesitation.
"Found you, our little newbie......."
Words died at the huddled figure.
"...A girl?"
An impossibly pretty one. Terror-wide doe eyes. Trembling white shoulders. Snow-white hair.
As Park lost himself in the unreal beauty—
—Crack!
World flashed! His head snapped sideways.
Clatter. Teeth hit the floor.