The Neon Lure
The interior was, absurdly enough, nothing like a dark ruin.
Blinding neon lights and multicolored LEDs blanketed every surface. After so long spent in the dim existence of the Backrooms, the glare stabbed at their eyes until they ached.
The floor was paved with successive cloud-shaped jump pads. Scattered throughout stood enormous rabbit and dinosaur plush toys whose limbs dangled unnaturally long. Massive character faces glowed from the ceiling, while torn posters and faded warning signs flickered along the walls. Everywhere one looked, glass doll eyes caught the reflected light and glittered with an uncanny brilliance, creating the constant, unsettling impression that the toys' gazes followed every movement.
Countless game machines lined the space, yet they bore no resemblance to ordinary arcade cabinets where one sat and worked a joystick. These were more like enclosed game booths that a person had to enter. Each machine claimed a room-sized footprint; automatic doors or tent-like curtains hung at the entrances, and above every one a scoreboard displayed rankings. It was clear the games only began once someone stepped inside.
A dazzling arcade on the surface. Yet somehow, beneath the glitter, a quiet malevolence lingered.
"Wait."
Without hesitation Minel drew out the Backrooms Codex. The first page already held the information he sought.
The Arcade is a standard method of enhancing physical ability. Beyond the basic machines, special arcade units appear at separate probabilities.
Each machine grants power proportional to the score achieved. In exchange, an equal measure of Wildness accumulates in the body.
Minel relayed the contents to Hina. She stared at the Codex a long moment before carefully asking,
"Is that item why you know so much about the Backrooms? Someone must have written the explanations down?"
It was an item far too precious to compare with any ordinary guidebook. There was no need to reveal the entire truth.
"It doesn't tell me everything."
"That's still huge. Everyone else starts knowing nothing."
When he finished explaining the Arcade itself, Hina asked again,
"What is Wildness?"
"The reason people turn into monsters."
"Then it's a little dangerous. Accumulating Wildness…"
Even so, she intended to try. If it was a common method, it should be fine. Wildness built up, yes—but one session would not turn anyone into a monster on the spot.
"Keep watch on the surroundings. I'll go first."
Hina swept her worried gaze across the machines. Brilliant neon signs reflected in tiny, busy fragments across her pupils.
"Are you sure you'll be all right?"
"We'll find out by trying."
The first machine that caught his eye was labeled HI-JUMPER. Resembling a gigantic trampoline, it bore a central screen where a pink monster character grinned; every jump displayed real-time power and height readings. The surface was no simple fabric—it analyzed micro-impact data to measure and strengthen the user's lower-body power and balance. Successful jumps made the on-screen character bounce higher in tandem. Failure twisted the monster's face into a grotesque grin that burst into bone-chilling laughter.
Beside it stretched a narrow, convoluted track called Agility Runner. The floor constantly rotated and reshaped itself; pillars shot up without warning, slick patches appeared, and jump zones forced split-second reactions or a fall. The walls glowed in bright fluorescent hues, yet inside, metal gears whirred and clanked as if alive. Upon completion the results listed reaction speed, evasion, joint acceleration, and a final composite score.
To the right stood a device that looked almost like a children's play structure: Crawl Cross. Users had to crawl through a cramped tunnel while flashing lights redirected them and jelly-like slime walls suddenly extruded into the path. It tested full-body flexibility and reflexes; intermediate sensors even tracked body temperature and muscle fatigue. At the end a mechanical hand descended to stroke the user's head—yet the hand was shaped like a doll's, which only made the gesture more unnerving.
In the central hall rose a large circular machine named Speed Dome. The floor rotated in a ring while platforms rose and fell in alternating sequence; the user had to keep moving without losing balance. Occasionally small monster dolls rolled along rails to interfere. The Dome specialized in building reflexes and core stability; failure caused the floor to drop abruptly, jolting the nerves with pure terror.
Minel completed every game. His scores hovered around the 150 range. The rankings displayed on the screens averaged over 900—far beyond his reach.
When he stepped out, Hina asked carefully,
"Does your body feel okay? Any pain?"
"None."
Sensing no particular abnormality, Minel continued. Next came Blade Spectrum—a VR swordsmanship simulator in which one gripped a glowing sword hilt. The Backrooms Codex confirmed it was no ordinary unit but an Advanced arcade machine. Its exterior consisted of a transparent helmet mounted atop a crimson crystal pillar and a single sword grip. The moment he donned the helmet and took the hilt, laser light poured from the visor and the entire field of vision became a virtual space: an endless glass corridor in which formless shadow figures closed in from every direction.
Minel swung the blade with crude force. Inside, the shadows reacted differently according to his posture, rhythm, and rotation angle. Though the sword did not physically exist, weight and resistance traveled from his fingertips, flooding him with the sensation of holding a real blade. The machine's sensory-feedback system transmitted fine vibrations through his arm on every hit; failed defenses delivered genuine impact into the real world. Thrusts, slashes, evasions, combos—he had to learn swordsmanship with his entire body, not merely his hands.
When the round ended he removed the helmet. The scoreboard graded five categories—slash speed, accuracy, reaction time, consecutive kills—and totaled 313. First place sat at a staggering 980.
Minel reached for Silence. Instantly the motions he had practiced inside the machine replayed themselves in his mind. Because it was Advanced, the machine had not merely raised raw physical stats; it had elevated actual sword technique. Something also seemed to seep into his body. His mind felt clearer, his mood lighter.
"My condition's actually better. You should try it too, Hina."
Of course Hina wanted to grow. For safety's sake, however, she decided to wait and watch a little longer.
"I'll keep observing for now."
Next he chose marksmanship. The machine labeled Digital Vane proved, like Blade Spectrum, to be Advanced. Inside, a soft air membrane wrapped his skin so gently it felt almost weightless. A translucent holographic wall stretched ahead; enemy silhouettes materialized and vanished in every direction. Sensors linked to his eyes, shoulders, waist, and fingertips tracked every micro-movement, testing aim precision and reflex. The gun was light polymer, yet it simulated trigger pressure, recoil, and aim sway with exacting fidelity.
Minel realized the core demand was not shooting alone: because one had to aim while moving, full-body balance and coordination were essential. Enemy patterns were no mere randomness; they analyzed his reaction habits and adapted. Blind firing scored nothing. Tactical judgment and spatial awareness were required.
Upon successful completion the machine delivered fine metrics—aim accuracy, spread correction rate, visual tracking—and a final score of 290. First place stood at 979.
Again, as he walked out, something seemed to sink into his flesh. Faintly yet unmistakably, muscle, bone, and senses felt sharper. When he touched Noise, marksmanship technique rose unbidden into his mind. Even with his normally unexcitable temperament, he felt his heart hammer.
To think such a place existed in the Backrooms. He wanted to stay forever and grow without end.
"This still feels wrong. Uncomfortable."
"What does?"
"I don't know. Just a feeling for now."
Hina rested her chin on her hand and surveyed the entire Arcade with a sharp, serious gaze. Looking at that expression, Minel suddenly felt as if someone had struck him across the head.
No matter where one looked, the Arcade was grotesque. It would not have been strange to believe someone had deliberately engineered it to provoke dread. Yet only moments ago, intoxicated by the sensation of growth, he had felt this place was paradise—a place he wanted to remain forever.
Hina spoke quietly.
"Here nothing is spent the way it is with vending machines or merchants. No Blood Crystals. Just hit a score and your body gets stronger. It's that convenient… so why is no one here?"
A chill ran down Minel's spine. Deep down he had sensed the same dissonance all along. At some point it had simply vanished—stolen away by the glittering machines and the joy of achievement. That strange euphoria of accomplishment had numbed reason like a drug. It was unmistakably unnatural.
He was glad Hina had not played. Had they both entered, they would have drowned in the same sensation and never questioned a thing.
"It's definitely abnormal."
Could a place that raised physical ability for free truly be empty? Even the bathrooms had been occupied.
"From what you said about Wildness accumulating, there is clearly a risk. We need to understand exactly what that risk is."
The information on the Arcade had come from the man who had already turned into a monster. Would he have handed over only good news without reservation?
"Could we be trapped?"
The Backrooms Codex carried no such warning. Yet if this were a trap, sealing them in at the start would be the obvious move.
"Just in case—let's leave right now."
Minel and Hina walked quickly, searching for the exit. The gazes of the oversized characters lining every side seemed, somehow, to follow them. From the moment doubt took root, the sense of wrongness only thickened. The massive machines and dazzling lights made the interior feel like an increasingly complex maze.
Had the Backrooms Codex simply omitted the fact that there was no way out? Anxiety tightened in his chest just as Hina's voice cut through.
"Ah! The exit! There it is!"
The exit was visible. They hurried through the iron door and emerged into the abandoned office.
"Whew…"
"Haa…"
To think this once-hated space could feel so welcome. Both turned at the same time to look back at the Arcade. Inside, the characters watched them with longing eyes. The iron door clanged lightly, as if beckoning them to return.
"Good. At least the exit doesn't seal shut."
"By the way—I'm glad."
"About what?"
"That you didn't play."
Hina offered a small smile.
"That's why a party is good! Aren't you glad you came with me?"
"…"
"It's about time you accepted me as a full party member, Minel."
In the Backrooms, where the boundary between sense and nonsense constantly shifted, pure rational thinking had its limits. Hina's instincts could perceive what Minel's logic missed. That forming a party brought clear advantages was already proven fact. Yet Minel still did not fully trust her.
"I'll decide after watching more."
A clear refusal. Hina looked up at him with an anxious, pleading expression, but Minel had no intention of agreeing to a formal party so easily. The reason was simple: he had already glimpsed the feelings inside her that even Hina herself had yet to recognize.