Chapter 136
Chapter 136
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 136
Chapter Title: Even If I Fall Into a Horror Story, I Still Have to Go to Work
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Do you know what it feels like to dry up and die from blood loss?
It's an expression for dying in agony after prolonged physical and mental torment.
That's exactly what we're going through right now.
The feeling of blood drying up.
"……."
"……."
For three days straight.
Trapped in this horror story, gripped by the fear of death, waiting for teammates who never show, barely sleeping or eating—we're experiencing firsthand what that does to a human.
You know that?
If a person goes three full days without proper sleep, rational thinking starts to become impossible.
We've been taking turns napping for an hour at a time in the second-floor food court, but even that's reaching its limit. Every hour, we face mortal danger, our nerves on edge—repeating that cycle.
'Perfect recipe for going insane.'
……Especially if your companion is a minor who's never been caught in a horror story before.
"Hic! Wh-where are we...?"
"...56 minutes. Time to move."
The high schooler I was supposed to rescue struggled to her feet, limping.
Her mental drain must be even worse than mine. She's starting to stagger more from dizziness than her ankle, mumbling nonsense into the air instead of crying.
No energy left to cry or get angry.
'Can't even eat properly.'
Obviously, safe food in this godforsaken mart is scarce, and most of it is stuff a high schooler wouldn't touch normally.
……Like rats or cockroaches.
Things no one would mistake for mart merchandise.
'The kind of lineup where you'd just starve for three days.'
Rarely, we'd find items lost by shoppers who'd already checked out, scattered in the food court. We'd have to scavenge food from those.
Saw it exactly once in three days.
Has a banana ever made me that happy in life?
'Which means that's all we ate in three days...'
Insane.
Luckily—or unluckily—no other missing persons from the second floor, so no competition.
Makes sense, probably. Missing people...
'Most of them... are upstairs.'
"……."
Anyway.
We're at our limit now.
'The high schooler's stamina and willpower are shot.'
Even filling up on water from the food court dispenser has its limits.
A couple more days like this, and we'll really be catching rats or bugs to eat.
'Though we'll probably screw up before even resorting to cockroaches.'
Right now, we're making hourly bathroom runs, but if one of us dozes off or collapses and misses the timing...
Game over.
'...We'll run into staff.'
Whether it's an employee coming to take orders in the food court or one pretending to clean the bathrooms.
That single line in the exploration records, all that's left behind.
Revulsion and chills mix, crawling down my spine.
"……."
Honestly, surviving this precariously for three days with a limping minor—pure luck.
I'm no idiot, though. I didn't engineer this on purpose.
'Who'd have thought I wouldn't run into the Bronze Agent for three whole days...!'
Yeah.
My senior agent vanished.
Driving me nuts.
"……."
Day one, I figured our timings just didn't match.
'Maybe we hid under the shelves for dozens of minutes, and they waited on the second floor before moving on?'
If she hadn't injured her leg like my charge, she might've pushed for escape more aggressively.
So after agonizing, I decided to keep waiting on the second floor.
'If they're resting, high chance they'll come back here.'
Truth is, no real choice.
Up and down floors with a limping high schooler? Suicide.
Staying put on the relatively safe second floor—rational call, I think.
But they never came.
So day two, I started searching other floors.
Couldn't search long. Leaving the high schooler alone for hours felt like it'd kill her.
Even dragged her to B1 in a crazy push, but nothing changed.
No Bronze Agent anywhere.
At least not in the range I could search within an hour.
Three days passed like that.
And...
'The whole time, the mart never reopened for business...'
One reason they urgently advise evacuating before closing.
The main culprit turning this mart into hell and tanking civilian survival rates.
No telling when it'll reopen.
Yeah.
Lucky Mart's "new day" could start anytime.
Sometimes it reopens normally after a day, but other times, even hundreds of perceived hours pass without a new day dawning.
'That's why some speculate the time gap with reality widens so much that Lucky Mart's time is stuck far in the past...'
Whether that's true or not doesn't matter. Reality is what counts.
We're trapped here on day three.
...I'm starting to fear what thoughts are bubbling up in the high schooler's head.
"Um, actually, we came here to find a kid from our apartment who went missing after DMing about heading to Lucky Mart."
Right on cue, delirious mumbling.
"...To find them?"
"Y-yeah. They vanished after saying they were going to Lucky Mart. So we were like, 'This seems like a horror story, let's find them'..."
Oh god.
"But it was stupid. They're probably dead already... Wh-what if they got ground up in a mixer?"
"...Don't think too far ahead."
I patted the high schooler's shoulder.
"For now, you'll get out today."
"...Huh?"
I had something to rely on.
I recalled the record I assumed was the Bronze Agent's.
Rephrasing...
'After three days, they reconnected with the agent.'
The agent escaped alone then.
Rescue failed, sure, but they must've tried saving civilians.
'Probably held out until reopening.'
Statistically, high chance today hits reopening time and doors open.
"N-no way, now...?"
"Yeah. Hang on a sec."
Heart pounding with hope, I calmly checked my watch.
[ 09 : 59 ]
Heartbeat racing.
Any moment now, the time changes...
[ 10 : 00 ]
On the dot.
Silence.
"……?"
Waited longer.
Nothing happened.
No logo jingle, no announcements, no lights, no doors opening.
"……."
The mart didn't reopen today either...
'Fuck.'
I blinked.
Sleep deprivation made the cold, dull shock reverberate...
"I-it's over?"
"……."
"Uh, uh-uh..."
"It's okay. There are other ways..."
I turned.
The high schooler was rustling something.
A receipt.
Supernatural Disaster Management Bureau notice disguised as one. Probably where she found the rescue number.
'Why that...?'
Looking for advice?
But instead of reading, she peeled something off it and tried shoving it in her mouth...
"...!!"
I slapped her hand away.
"Ow!"
I pried her hand open, snatching it. She resisted, but I ignored.
"No...!"
...White capsule pill.
'This.'
I know the shape.
Supernatural Disaster Management Bureau once enclosed them with notices in high-grade horrors...
Euthanasia pills.
My bad feeling hit dead-on.
'Damn, damn it all!'
Her notice had one enclosed.
"S-sorry."
The high schooler sniffled.
"I-I can't do this anymore. I don't wanna get blendered. It's too scary and dizzying, I can't. I wanna die easy..."
Breath caught.
"Sorry, if you're mad I'm trying to peace out alone? If half kills, we could share..."
"No."
I gritted my teeth at her rambling.
Forced a calm expression, patted her arm.
"It's okay. There's another way out."
"How?! It's day three, no sleep, no food, nothing..."
"We can do it."
I gripped her tight.
"So far, we played it ultra-safe thinking it'd reopen soon. If the doors won't open quick, we have backups."
"R-really?"
"Yeah."
True.
...If I resolve to one thing.
-Abandon the Bronze Agent.
No more worrying they're struggling to find us and can't escape, no pressure to confirm each other's survival, no hope of aid.
Ditch it all.
Records say the agent escapes solo anyway.
...Rescue failed, though.
'Trying to save civilians tailing the agent... delusion.'
Snap out of it.
I chose to do my best within my limits.
'If it's just us holding out till reopening...'
Priorities shifted fast in my head.
Three days of agonizing made the next plan obvious.
"We're heading upstairs."
"Huh...?"
"Don't swallow this—let it dissolve slowly in your mouth."
I immediately gave the high schooler a Nostalgia Candy.
The bizarre item that locks you in your peak condition.
"Whoa...!"
Her eyes changed the instant it hit her tongue.
"M-my leg's fine!"
"Think 'dissolve slowly.' It only works while it's in."
"Got it...!"
Her condition skyrocketed; she stood beaming. Mental state reset to 'peak' too.
Braced for complaints about not using it sooner, but she was too thrilled by the miracle item.
"The mart's third floor is the top, right? Escape route up there? Can we get out that way? We're escaping?"
"Escaping 'preparations.'"
And...
"Third floor isn't the top."
"...Pardon?"
"Doors lead higher than third sometimes."
But.
"Th-the receipt said not to go there..."
Spot on.
Lucky Mart 4F.
A gimmick treated almost like a meme in [Darkness Exploration Records].
'Missing person keyword.'
That's the last line before everyone vanishes.
No matter the desperate, nail-biting exploration before—no difference. Like moths to flame, they vanish pointlessly, futilely.
What made it scarier.
No one ever wrote 'why' they vanished or what's on 4F.
Tacit agreement.
Even the most detailed missing case was like that.
I recalled it.
The agent's challenge after realizing her rescue targets were dead.
Agent Choi: So, I'm on 3F now. Found a door to 4F. Agent Choi: Just gonna crack it open and check. I'm not crazy. Can't leave 4F alone—nearly three digits missing after going up, right? (Agent leaves personal excuse/will.) Agent Choi: Opening the 4F door now. And... open! Ta-da! (Door open, enter, close sounds in sequence.) Agent Choi: Normal? Just a worn emergency exit. Stairs... nothing special. Exit door's fine too. (Observes minutes more; no anomalies.) Agent Choi: Okay, heading up. (Footsteps echo. Estimated stair climb.) Agent Choi: Let's see. Exit door still fine... Oh. ...Gone now. Only way up. Here goes! (Footsteps 30 sec.) Agent Choi: Whew... Made it. 4F door ahead. Agent Choi: Looks ordinary. Just a metal door. Agent Choi: ...Opening it. (Metal door opens. Lucky Mart logo jingle starts simultaneously.) Agent Choi: Huh? (Jingle grows, modulates.) Agent Choi: W-wait. (Indescribable roar. Thunderclap. Wind-filling whoosh, rain, balloon rub, pop, 12 unidentified sounds & ■■■ ■■.) Agent Choi: (Silence) Agent Choi: Welcome to Lucky Mart! Nothing recorded for next 24 hours. Ends with battery death. Agent's recorder later found in Lucky Mart 3F electronics section.
"……."
Reason enough to swear never to open a 4F emergency door.
But.
"It's fine. Once we find the door, I'll tell you what to do."
That's our destination.
"……Okay."
Three days of trust—or Nostalgia Candy's magic—she nodded obediently, thankfully.
"Move quietly."
We left the second-floor food court.
Walked the stopped escalator up, silently.
Avoided the escalator check time, but barefoot and ultra-cautious to minimize noise and avoid staff attention.
Conversation paused.
Cold sweat beading, we inched forward in utter silence.
Finally, third floor revealed itself...
"Ah......"
Weird.
Previous Lucky Marts had 3F as event space, they say.
Discount displays rotated by theme daily.
And the 3F before us now.
"Wh-what is this...?"
Those displays repeating infinitely.
Endless mart.
If lower floors creepily replayed the past, 3F and up... expanded infinitely, grotesquely.
Gigantic maze—or delirious blueprint/drawing—endless repeating shelves and specials, perfect for driving you mad.
But also ideal for dodging or hiding from staff.
Some displays went months without staff.
'Great for pilfering food and supplies on the sly.'
...If you abandon escape.
So uncounted missing persons scattered inside...
Maybe even the Bronze Agent.
"……."
"……."
"Stick to the walls. Spot an emergency exit, tell me right away."
"Y-yes...!"
We hugged the escalator back wall, inching along.
Thus entering the dizzying path of endless display shelves.
Dark general mart under emergency lights post-closing, corners repeating forever.
[Camping Gear Blowout Sale]
[Winter Outlet Event]
[Housewarming Gift Specials]
[Sell Your Flesh at Lucky Mart]
[Spring Kitchenware Mega Discount]
Eventually, bizarre labels appeared. I'd backtrack past those shelves/signs.
Dozens of minutes in, checking escalator position while hopping stores.
A small sound.
Dull thud from beyond the shelves.
-......
I quickened my pace.
But the sound sharpened, eventually...
-Huh? Someone there...
"Huh?"
High schooler jerked her head up.
-Who is it? Need help?
Voice from afar.
"Over there, people...!"
"Shh."
I crouched with her.
Whispered warning.
"Might not be people."
"...!"
"And... even if people, would anyone long-term here be sane?"
"...!!"
No way they'd be right-minded.
Odds insanely low.
Especially if pretending friendly.
'Danger.'
People would be scarier.
-Hey. Someone there, right? I'll help.
We bolted wall-hugging.
Friendly offers kept coming.
-My voice might draw staff. I know the way out. Let me help.
Sweat beaded on her neck. I gauged distance to voice, kept moving.
-Hurry. Can't let staff see.
'Fuck.'
Subdue briefly? No, if staff comes... Yeah, if human, let them get caught eventually.
Keep moving, endure...
Wait.
'That.'
Glancing up—beyond our wall curve, something appeared.
Metal door.
Green-lit emergency exit. And...
Sign.
[ 3F ↗ 4F ]
"Th-that...!"
There.
'4F emergency exit.'
I rushed, grabbed handle.
Urgently instructed high schooler.
Most crucial part.
"Do not climb the stairs. Ever."
"Pardon?"
"Open door, step in, stand still. Got it? No moving."
She nodded, eyes wide with fear.
Yeah.
My hypothesis.
Agent Choi: Normal? Just a worn emergency exit. Stairs... nothing special. Exit door's fine too.
'...But staff climbed stairs, exit door vanished.'
Reverse inference:
-Don't climb stairs, 3F door stays.
Since you haven't left 3F yet.
If right, safest spot imaginable.
'No records of staff trying to go to 4F.'
Not mart territory.
Thus, 4F stairwell becomes safe zone for humans opening/using door.
Everything simplifies.
'Can eat food from my pouch there.'
Outside mart once door opens.
Open to outside every 10, check for reopening.
'Safest bet.'
With injured high schooler, sans infinite Nostalgia Candy, this is best.
4F vanish tales linger scarily, but gotta do it.
Gritted teeth, opened metal door.
Creeeak.
Exact sound described; worn stairwell revealed.
"In. Careful."
"O-okay...!"
We entered together.
To prevent issues, wedged torn notebook paper in door gap—slightly ajar, unnoticeable from outside.
'Phew.'
That shakes any pursuers.
As I caught breath.
"P-Po, Agent Po...!"
High schooler yanked my arm, voice choking.
Pointed up.
"There...!"
Up the stairs.
Chilled, I looked.
Someone stood on 4F stairs.
Pale-faced, hollow-eyed bob-cut woman.
"...P-person!"
Go Yeongeun.
My cohort, ex-med student.
"……."
'...What?'
Brain refused to process.
But next instant, her outfit registered.
Metal badge on collar.
Supernatural Disaster Management Bureau agent ID.
'Ah.'
A memory flashed.
The two missing agents the Bronze Agent mentioned.
"...!"
One was my cohort, infiltrated as a newbie at the Bureau.