B5

It was a place so dark it could blind you.

Tap — and the instant my finger touched the flash button, white light washed over what lay directly ahead.

This place was...

A place of hundreds of windows and doors.

A place of hundreds of windows and doors that must never, ever be opened without permission.

"Basement level 5..."

A parking garage.

B5.

If time could be twisted, then space could be twisted too. It stood to reason.

Ha...

So every floor had been scrambled after all. And here I'd hoped it wasn't so. The Jaerae Diary hadn't been touting its floor-by-floor information for nothing, it turned out.

I quickly skimmed the floor guide on the front page of the Jaerae Diary.

Floors 2 and 3 had originally been connected through the grand auditorium, so the two of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠them seemed to have been the exception. Which was why, naturally, I'd assumed at first that whatever lay below the 2nd floor might be the 1st.

Either way, every last floor of this building had been shuffled into a jumble, and there was no telling anymore which floor was where. That was bad.

Still, if I was determined to dig up some small positive here... Reach the 1st floor, and I could get out.

No — strictly speaking, what had grown was the likelihood that the labyrinth's exit sat on the 1st floor. And my gut insisted that was exactly where it was.

If the exit had been tucked away on some random floor instead, we'd have wandered plenty long even with the floors left intact. Put the other way around: the floors had likely been shuffled precisely because the exit was on the 1st — shuffled to make the 1st floor itself hard to find.

Of course, it wasn't beyond imagining that scrambling the floors wasn't enough, and the exit wasn't on the 1st floor after all... But honestly, I didn't believe the labyrinth would go that far.

Because the labyrinth is kind.

Difficult — but not so difficult you'd crumple and quit before you'd even begun. It would plant in us a goal to press toward and the hope of getting out. It would tug from ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the front and shove from behind, keeping us alive longer so we'd wander farther and get more thoroughly lost. That was the labyrinth's way.

Because the labyrinth is merciless.

Of course, that wasn't the only reason. The labyrinth respects 'doors.'

A door was what divided one space from another. Step across one, and what lay beyond became a world entirely apart from what came before. At the very least, that was the consensus — the thing we all agreed to believe. Wasn't it?

Even if it was the same concrete underfoot, cross this threshold and you were in a corridor; cross that one and you were in an office.

The labyrinth took exactly those rules of 'doors' and absorbed them into its own.

Which meant: cross the 1st-floor doors — the ones treated as the Jaerae Building's entrances since long before it became a labyrinth — and there was a good chance of stepping out into the world beyond the labyrinth.

Of course, not every labyrinth took the shape of a sealed building like this one. In some labyrinths, the exit had no door at all.

Maybe that was why. I had come out — and yet it didn't feel as though I'd come out of anything at all.

...

I shook my head to scatter the clutter of thoughts. Without rashly committing my feet, I surveyed my surroundings with care.

An underground level no ray of light could ever reach by natural means. Even with the power out, the above-ground floors had daylight raining down through their glass; down here, the very texture of the air was different.

The peculiar air of an underground parking garage, cool and dank all at once, wormed its way in under my clothes, and the sensation needled at me in a way I couldn't quite shake.

Uuurk... nngh...

Then, from somewhere far off, a faint sound. My whole body went rigid on the spot.

I barely managed to kill the flash and strained my ears. Something clattering to the floor, a dry hacking cough, moans spilling out like weeping.

Ah. Not so long ago, I'd made those very same sounds myself, in the grand auditorium.

"Excuse me — are you all right...?"

Someone was heaving up the contents of their stomach. ...Or perhaps bringing up blood.

I stretched my arm toward the sound again, angling the flash so the beam would carry as far as it could.

"Ahem."

Far off, I could make out a figure hurriedly clearing its throat and straightening a hunched back.

"I'm quite all right."

Despite the distance, a young man's voice — crisp, strong — lodged itself cleanly in my ears. Thankfully, it seemed he'd only been vomiting.

"Put the light out."

A phone's flash was hardly a searchlight; all I could make out were the shadowed contours of his features. But the world has its share of people who can make even the tiniest ember look like a halo — and between that and the voice, I had a fair guess who this was.

"Ah — yes."

So, without quibbling over the why of it, I switched the flash off.

"Is the light dangerous?"

Besides, it never hurt to hear out someone who'd been on this floor even marginally longer than I had. True or false, there was information to be wrung from it either way.

"Yes. In my estimation."

For instance — that a darkness like this, where not an inch ahead was visible, was an advantage. At least, to that man.

"Stand still where you are. I will come to you."

And that the man would rather I not come toward him.

The two of us could just as easily have set out together and met halfway. So what was it he didn't want me seeing over there? Perhaps he simply didn't care to show me the mess he'd brought up. And if it wasn't a reason that petty...

"Yes. Understood."

I edged a step sideways, fingers trailing over the nearest pillar and the car beside it, tracing out the route I'd flee by if it came to that.

Click-clack, click-clack.

The sound of low heels meeting the floor drew steadily nearer. Maybe because the dark was total enough that keeping my eyes open hardly mattered, every footfall was steeped in hesitation — slow, irregular. Even so, it seemed putting out the light hadn't been solely to that man's advantage.

Click-clack, click-clack.

At last, when that presence had closed to within two or three steps of me, I snapped out a greeting — quick and crisp, like drawing a line in the dark.

"Good evening, CEO Yu."

Founder of Hyeonjae Sports Agency. Co-CEO of Yuwi Guild. Owner of the Jaerae Building, which had turned into a labyrinth overnight.

To Yu Hyeonjae.

"My name is Seon Yuhan."

"Ah, hm. Pleasure to meet you. Sharp eyes you have there. I can't have been easy to make out."

There was something oddly sheepish in the voice, but the dark was such that I couldn't see the face of the man standing right in front of me — couldn't tell what expression he wore.

"You aren't one of our employees, by any chance? I'd feel rather bad if I'd failed to recognize you..."

"Ah — no, sir."

And yet, somehow, I felt I knew exactly what Yu Hyeonjae's face was doing, and my tension eased a notch. This wasn't some five-person shop. If a CEO recognized a rank-and-file employee, it would be the employee who had the right to panic. There was no way he'd properly made out the face of a non-employee from that distance back there.

"I came in for an interview today. It's my first time in this building."

"Ah. I don't know what time it is, but I heard there was a meeting today to bring in a new Red Weaver. Might that be you? I haven't had the chance to confirm yet."

"No. That couldn't be me."

"Then the Weaver Support Department, perhaps? An Agent?"

"Weaver Sup— ah, the Red Weaver Support Department. Yes. That's right."

Inwardly, I was startled. It was uncanny that the CEO had even that sort of schedule at his fingertips. A Red Weaver recruitment meeting might be worth keeping in mind — but still.

"You found that surprising, didn't you?"

"Uh..."

Should I affirm it honestly, or deny it? I couldn't tell what answer he was fishing for.

No — before that, even. Did one really have to keep up office politics inside a labyrinth, too? With CEO Yu Hyeonjae — Schrödinger's superior, seeing as I still couldn't know my interview results?

"I take a great deal of interest in people. Especially in those who are to become our people."

Wait.

The moment I heard that, every useless thought was swept clean away in a flash. The hair over my whole body stood on end.

"By the way, CEO Yu."

Hwang Juyeon and Jeong Jiho.

"Have you by chance ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠not seen anyone else down here?"

The two of them had come down before I did — so where were they?

"Other people?"

"Yes. A child and a woman — two people. They should have come down here."

"Are they family?"

The voice sounded more than a little concerned.

"No, nothing like that. I ran into them upstairs and, hm. I lost them."

Better not to explain the circumstances under which I'd lost them.

"Shall I catch them for you?"

What is that even supposed to mean?

"No, that's not what I meant — I'm worried, that's all. Naturally. People who came down before me, and they're nowhere to be seen."

"Ah, right. Of course. Well — at the moment, the only ones on this floor are the two of us."

"At least, the only humans." The voice that appended this sounded dark.

I hadn't expected a labyrinth to contain nothing inhuman anyway. On that point, I had no doubts.

"Is... that so."

What mattered were Hwang Juyeon and Jeong Jiho. Whether this man was lying about the two of them — I went back and forth and couldn't begin to tell. Had I been able to see his expression or his gestures, perhaps; judging from voice alone was next to impossible. And if I carelessly flipped the flash back on, something truly dangerous might occur.

Of course, all of that assumed Yu Hyeonjae had no scheme to do me in, and was speaking nothing but the truth.

"Ah, right. As for this place having turned into a labyrinth... I'm sure you know it well enough yourself, Mr. Seon Yuhan — coming down from upstairs as you did."

"Yes. Though the floors seem to be hopelessly scrambled. I came down from the 2nd floor and opened the door to the 1st — I hardly expected to come out here..."

If Yu Hyeonjae was telling the truth, then Hwang Juyeon and Jeong Jiho might have landed on an entirely different floor. It was possible the scrambling of this labyrinth's floors wasn't fixed at all — that the floor you reached shifted with the timing, or with the person. But if it was a lie...

"By the way — have you been alone this whole time, CEO Yu?"

Very, very carefully, I balled my fist tight and drew one foot slightly back, adjusting my center of gravity. So as to make no sound at all.

"...I suppose that's about the size of it."

Why was this man being so evasive? Making me wait, on top of it.

"In my case, the person who'd been with me right up until the moment this place became a labyrinth vanished not long after it did. Did nothing of the sort happen with you, CEO Yu?"

"Ah... As it happens, Driver Kim — ah, my personal driver was with me."

Yu Hyeonjae's voice paused for a moment.

"Ah, dear. This is hardly the time."

The bodiless voice came again, solemn and measured.

"Mr. Seon Yuhan. Listen carefully to what I'm about to say."

From very close — close enough that a mere outstretched hand ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠would have touched—

"Don't be alarmed."

The moment that fact landed, goosebumps erupted across every inch of my body.

This crazy bastard.

When the hell did he take off his shoes?