Happyland

Lee Jinsu's head looked as if someone had cut themselves a slice of a hyperrealistic cake named Lee Jinsu and left the rest behind.

Scalp, skull, brain……

From that cross-section, layered like cream and sponge and mousse, not a single drop of blood flowed.

No. I wasn't.

Ah. So this is that thing people mentioned — the multiple-choice questions that pop up from time to time asking for your name.

So that was the format.

Meaning I hadn't actually needed to enter my real name after all.

Though what was with "I forgot"? Ominous as hell.

While the script was playing out, chaos reigned beside me.

"Urk, ugh……"

Choi Jaeha, covering his mouth with both hands, had made the mistake of opening the break room door — the one in question — and discovered the corpse of Lee Jinsu's coworker, screaming and vomiting.

"Ulp, huuerrgh……"

Jeong Jiho, confronted with a scene that would turn even an old man's stomach, couldn't even manage a proper cry; he just whimpered and dry-heaved until he threw up too.

"Here, drink this. You too, Jiho — slowly."

Yu Hyeonjae had fetched bottled water and snacks from the break room fridge.

"I hope we won't need these, but we might……"

Hwang Juyeon had gone through every drawer NeoSoft had to offer, emptying them of miscellaneous medicines and first-aid kits.

"Don't go in there anymore."

I grabbed the back of Lee Jinsu's corpse, still slumped over his dead monitor, pulled the chair around, and wheeled him, seat and all, out of the break room. Then I came back, sat down, and took out my diary and pen.

"Ah, I should keep a record."

"Yes. We need to write down what Lee Jinsu told us, for one thing, and it might help to jot brief notes on the choices that come up and their results from here on out."

Not that I'd forget most of it anyway.

Soon the screen changed, and a choice appeared alongside an illustration in dot graphics.

At the top of the screen, a thin bar was shrinking bit by bit, showing the time limit.

Judging by the speed, about three or four minutes.

If I'm not hungry, I hold back.

Hwang Juyeon, whose turn would probably come after mine, came over and watched me with a worried expression.

Even picking the same choice could produce different outcomes, and there was no telling which route was the correct one — much like an invasive labyrinth where everything was an unknown.

……Assuming this wasn't something I could restart over and over.

Looking at the pixel art, it was a roller coaster with three separate 360-degree rotation sections.

No clue how exactly one was supposed to "become happy" from that.

"Ugh, ohh……"

Choi Jaeha, still groaning from his upset stomach, dragged his chair over and read through the whole script.

"Hang on…… isn't this one of those things? That big loop in the middle — the tallest point. Maybe you hang upside down at the top and hold on while your safety bar's unlocked."

I was momentarily struck speechless by how bizarrely specific the guess was, and just stared at him.

"Why — how did you even come up with that?"

"There's a movie I saw in middle school with that exact scene in it. Honestly, I still can't go to amusement parks because of it."

I genuinely couldn't tell what kind of movies this man was watching.

"Well, what I was wondering was what happens to the staff if I ride this thing."

"Right. The staff ride along and endure it too, don't they? If they endure it, they live. If not, well……"

Choi Jaeha let the sentence trail off.

I didn't deliberate long before picking a choice.

I wouldn't know until I pressed it anyway.

Even if I chose "Become unhappy," the only thing coming back to me was the price — the dead weren't coming back.

Screeech. Crrrunck.

The sound of steel being crushed.

"Wha, what the……"

Choi Jaeha was flustered.

The monster had, indeed, come loose from the safety bar — but then it had started chasing after the roller coaster that had departed without it.

There were probably people riding that coaster.

The screen changed at once, and this time the stall illustration I'd seen on Lee Jinsu's playthrough appeared.

If I'm full, I hold back.

"Seon Yuhan. Is there any need to hold back?" ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ That was what Yu Hyeonjae said when he finally opened his mouth after a long silence. Utterly innocent.

"Because there's no need to eat, either."

"And yet you have no wish to become unhappy?"

I'd picked "Become happy" on a ride that kills people, but I wouldn't eat when a person was on the line?

Was he asking if that wasn't hypocrisy?

If so, my answer was ready. It always was.

"Then why on earth would I deliberately make myself unhappy?"

Yu Hyeonjae quietly studied me.

"I held back because there's no hint here that choosing 'Hold back' would do you any particular harm."

"Ahh."

Yu Hyeonjae nodded along, looking satisfied.

Oddly enough, he didn't seem offended. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ So he really did have a surprisingly light side for someone of his position.

"So that's the best you can do, Seon Yuhan."

Wait — was he offended, then? Was that a jab just now?

"Ah. What I mean is—"

Yu Hyeonjae raised a hand with a faint smile.

"I understand. That you did your best, Seon Yuhan. Within the limits you were given, as far as you were able."

Is that so. Well.

"I hope you'll keep doing the same. Trying to accomplish things beyond your limits only breaks people."

"Ah…… Yes."

Meaning: don't take on unreasonable penalties, it's fine to pass a turn.

Whether it was empty words or words that came from the heart, I couldn't tell.

There it was again.

"Hm?"

Who was JunSeo?

"Ah. That person."

Yu Hyeonjae pointed at the screen with something like fondness.

"……You know them?"

"I do. They're in the break room."

So while gathering food in the break room, he'd also checked the employee badge of Lee Jinsu's dead coworker?

And how did that justify answering "I do" so confidently to the question of whether I *knew* this person?

This man really is missing a few screws in the strangest places.

Thankfully they're not missing in the bad direction.

This one looked like…… an attraction where people were smashed like teacups.

And sure enough.

An indescribable tangle of emotions churned across Hwang Juyeon's face.

As if she couldn't figure out where to begin or how to put it into words — so much that even swearing failed her.

"Everything in this game is things these people actually went through, isn't it……"

There are things so free of malice that they become all the more vicious for it.

And labyrinths, as a rule, have no malice.

Just as a natural disaster that drowns people in floodwater and burns mountains and fields to ash has no malice.

I thought about the Seonghwa Group labyrinth and the Mount Yeongun labyrinth, and the Happyland labyrinth.

About how invasive labyrinths kept coming up.

About the essence of labyrinths themselves.

'Labyrinths are the graves of unsolved problems. And those problems wait only for someone to solve them.'

Nine out of ten invasive labyrinths end with everyone inside wiped out.

Which means there's almost no way to know exactly what happened inside them.

They become unsolved problems in themselves — invasive labyrinths.

Because no one could solve them.

So maybe that's why they reappear as the problems of yet another labyrinth.

Because they long for someone to solve them. Even a little.

There'd be not a shred of happiness in it. Nothing but misfortune.

Swish, the box vanished.

"No, ugh—"

Why even ask if this is what it was going to do?

This was exactly why I'd wanted to leave it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠behind.

Every single option was ominous to the extreme.

Which meant the answer I had to choose was already decided.

I would take the path that didn't kill me.

You can't kill someone twice — someone who's already dead.

Even if I wanted to.

Was this thing insane?