Pieces for the Headless Rider
"The diary says the third basement level comes next, right?"
"Yes. It mentions something called the Headless Rider, though I don't yet know exactly what that means."
It took nine more deaths in total to confirm the outcome of not sounding the fire alarm.
Either because we'd lost a piece we couldn't afford to lose at Happy Land, or because we'd failed to satisfy the arcade's minimum headcount.
"Either way, it's going to be pitch dark again if it's a parking garage. We'd better go in with our flashlights on."
Clunk.
We had barely made it into the third basement parking level.
It was quiet.
"Ugh, the smell."
"What smell……?"
"Smells like burning tires to me."
"What, is there a fire? What do we do? Do you see any smoke? Where's a fire extinguisher?"
Apart from the chatter of the group, it was utterly silent.
No alarm was sounding.
Had it worked?
Though the alarm had gone off and stayed silent on past attempts, it was too early to say for certain.
"I don't see any smoke……."
"Then where is that smell coming from……?"
"Let's move for now. Just in case, let's keep a tight formation—"
—Riiiiiiing!
Oh, damn it.
"Agh! You scared me……! What now?"
"I think it really is a fire!"
I'd hoped against hope, but no.
Was some fire detector going off?
Sensing the heat radiating from that monster?
If so, then whether I pressed the fire alarm or not, the Headless Rider was destined to be completed all the same.
Typical.
So it had made up its mind to carve people limb from limb one way or another.
Riiiiiiing—!
Which meant that monster sheathed in black tires was charging toward us from somewhere right now.
"Everyone, hide behind the pillars, between the cars! The heat's getting stronger and something feels very wrong!"
In that desperate instant, I let go of the child's small hand for just a moment to lift him up—
"Kyaaaaaah!"
A child's thin, fragile scream bored into my ears like a nightmare.
The pitch-black monster, tearing through the boundary of shadows, snatched up one little leg in its jaws and slipped back into the dark.
"Hk—aaaaah……!"
A tearing wail that seized every muscle in my body more instinctively than any alarm ever could—as if his breath would stop at any moment.
"Jiho!"
This time, I was the first to run after the monster.
I knew it would change nothing.
No—I ran because I knew.
"M… Ma… Mom… my……"
The child died without ever managing to call for his mother even once.
Before his leg could even be fully severed by the scorching-hot hulk of metal.
Riiiiiiing!
The monster tossed the child's remaining corpse onto the floor like scrap, then withdrew at its leisure, the slender right leg still clamped in its jaws.
I gathered up the bloodless body and slowly lifted it into my arms.
So much lighter than before. Naturally.
"Seon Yuhan-ssi! Let's move, first!"
Yu Hyeonjae, who had followed me, gave my back a light pat.
By the time I rejoined the others—each of whom had scattered—with the child in my arms:
Riiiiiiing!
Rii—
The alarm cut off.
……
Everyone who looked at the child's corpse, its right leg gone, fell silent.
"I let go of Jiho for just a second while I tried to lift him, and this……. No, there's no excuse I can offer……."
With those words, I lowered my head slightly.
None of these people were Jeong Jiho's kin, so no apology was truly necessary—and this much should suffice.
I'd shown more than enough sincerity by chasing after the abducted child right away.
……
A solemn, awkward silence.
Choi Jaeha broke it.
"For now…… let's all head this way. My car's over there."
Riiiiiiing!
Thud!
Crunch, crack!
"Kyaaak—aaaaah!"
"Lee Nahyeon-ssi!"
The monster that had rammed the car from behind smashed through the rear window with its head—pounding, pounding—then clamped its jaws around Lee Nahyeon's yellow head, seated in the middle, and wrenched her clean out of the car.
Riiiiiiing!
Chomp!
"Gyaaaaah!"
"Lee Jinsu-ssi!"
Next, it took Lee Jinsu's left arm.
Unfortunately, once his arm was severed, Lee Jinsu drifted in and out of consciousness, convulsing in agony for some ten minutes before he died.
Riiiiiiing!
The last person to offer the Headless Rider his right arm was……
"Agh, ugh……!"
"Seon Yuhan-ssi……!"
Me.
And here I'd thought I might get through this one unscathed.
"Hk, ugh……."
Losing an arm wasn't an unfamiliar experience in itself.
It was only the slow, sizzling carving—seared bit by bit by metal hot enough to melt flesh—that I still hadn't gotten used to.
White light burst behind my eyes.
The fishy reek of blood. The nutty yet bitter smell of meat. The acrid stench of burning rubber.
I couldn't even tell whether what I felt in my shoulder blade was pain.
A chill swept over me and my whole body shivered.
But in the end, I didn't die.
There was no helping it.
The survivors numbered four in total: Hwang Juyeon, Choi Jaeha, Yu Hyeonjae, and me—arm and all.
"Don't tell me that thing……"
An unnamed someone's left leg. A small child's short, slender right leg. A semi-punk's torso. A comparatively thin left arm. And my right arm.
With that, the Headless Rider was finally complete, and we were able to leave the third basement level.
Clunk.
"We're on the seventh floor……."
We'd finally arrived.
The seventh floor.
Where the offices of Agent Team 3 and Agent Team 4 were located.
"Shall we try that side first?"
I tilted my head toward the right-hand corridor.
"Team 4, you mean?"
"Yes……. To be honest, it's the team I applied to, so it's been nagging at me. Of course, we could start with Team 3 instead."
Having already seen Team 3's office, transformed into the 'Doll House' labyrinth, I wanted to check Team 4 this time.
"Not at all. We have to visit both anyway, and the order hardly matters. Wouldn't you say?"
"Right. But Seon Yuhan-ssi, are you really sure you don't want to rest more?"
"Exactly what I was thinking. Seon Yuhan-ssi, you're still completely pale."
I said I'm fine.
How many times do I have to say it?
"It's just how I look. We can't stay stopped forever, either. If it really gets to be too much, I'll tell you."
Shhk.
After that pointless delay, I opened the door to Agent Team 4's office.
"Hm? What is this place? Feels like some kind of auditorium."
"More like a gymnasium……. The office didn't look like this originally, did it?"
"Of course not. It's changed quite a bit."
A ceiling high enough for voices to echo faintly off it.
The scene before us looked exactly like a school's multipurpose hall.
"Some kind of vote?"
A small polling station stood at the center of the hall.
Two voting booths screened off by white curtains, two ballot boxes, and two desks, each with a single ballot paper laid on it.
"……It's the 'Prisoner's Dilemma,' I'd say."
The co-representative of Yuwi Guild, who had been studying the makeshift polling station closely, delivered his verdict.
"Sorry?"
"That…… isn't it a labyrinth? A contact-type one."
"It is. I find it a bit odd as well, but…… given that everything comes in matched pairs, it does seem to be the 'Prisoner's Dilemma.' The numbering only goes up to 2, too."
Yu Hyeonjae pointed at the ballot paper on the desk without touching it.
— Wish Ballot —
｜1｜ ｜ ｜
｜2｜ ｜ ｜
"A 'Wish Ballot'?"
"It's blank……."
"I'd guess the contents appear once you step inside the booth."
"But why the 'Prisoner's Dilemma' all of a sudden……."
When I offered a casual remark, Representative Yu looked my way.
"Among the Red Weavers assigned to Team 4, as it happens, there's a pair well suited to the 'Prisoner's Dilemma.' If you insist on finding a connection."
"Oh, those twins……. I know them."
"Um, but."
The accountant edged his way into the conversation.
"The 'Prisoner's Dilemma' is that, uh, pick-between-two thing, right? Where both people choose the slightly less profitable option."
He knew more than I'd expected.
Perhaps because the original—the real 'Prisoner's Dilemma' the labyrinth was named for—was already famous.
"Yes, that's known as the standard solution. Correct, Representative?"
"It is. Trusting the other party and accepting a small loss yourself. That's precisely why the pair I mentioned fits this labyrinth."
"Ah, because they're twins."
As Choi Jaeha nodded in understanding, the corner of Yu Hyeonjae's mouth lifted slightly.
"They are valuable employees precisely because they are twin brothers."
A strange remark—neither agreement with nor rebuttal of Choi Jaeha's words.
……So their business relationship is even more thoroughgoing than I thought. Those twin Red Weavers.
Meaning that if one got hurt or died, it would be a long-term loss.
"Anyway."
I resumed my explanation for Choi Jaeha.
"In the 'Prisoner's Dilemma,' there are two choices. One that looks obviously wonderful to anyone. And one that's less appealing—in the worst case, one that costs you a small loss outright."
"Ah, so it was that. We just both pick the worse option."
Right.
If both people accepted a small loss, the thing could be cleared with ease.
"And if one person picks the good one, or both pick the good one, people get hurt or something, right?"
Hwang Juyeon knew the 'Prisoner's Dilemma' well.
"Yes. If one picks the good option and the other picks the bad one……"
The one who chose the good option profits.
Depending on the contents of the choices, but quantified—roughly a two-person share of gain.
The one who chose the bad option suffers a loss.
Likewise, roughly a two-person share of loss.
"If both choose the good option……"
Both suffer a loss. A four-person share each.
This, too, varied with the contents of the choices, but there had been cases where death would have been the kinder outcome.
"If both choose the bad option……"
Both suffer a loss. A one-person share each.
Because such information was never provided, this labyrinth devoured a great many people in its early days.
The name 'Prisoner's Dilemma' had also been attached based on survivor testimony.
"Hmm……. Anyway, then who's going to……."
Choi Jaeha trailed off, glancing around nervously.
The 'Prisoner's Dilemma' could be resolved with only two participants.
Strictly speaking, even the outcome of the choices didn't matter.
Once two people made their selections and the result was set, the labyrinth resolved itself, full stop.
"May I do it?"
At that, Choi Jaeha brightened—then hurriedly reined his expression back in.
"Oh, well, we'd be grateful and all……. But aren't you pushing yourself too hard?"
"I'm fine. I doubt things can get much worse than they already are."
I gave a small nod with my bandaged right shoulder.
Who knew—perhaps one of the choices might offer a reward that restored this shoulder.
"Choi Jaeha-ssi."
"Huh? Wh-what?"
The accountant, suddenly called by name, flinched as if scalded.
"Do you trust me?"
"……No, not really."
"Right, neither do I."
He was simple-minded—and yet, paradoxically because of that very simplicity, occasionally hard to read, which made him a poor fit for the 'Prisoner's Dilemma.'
"I'll…… I'll do it."
Yes. Hwang Juyeon was the perfect fit.
"That's all right with you?"
"Oh, yes, of course, sure……."
"We should be the ones thanking you both for stepping forward so readily."
I owed Hwang Juyeon my thanks as well.
Frankly, I hated dealing with Yu Hyeonjae.
Most of the time he was readable enough—but then, every so often, he would pull off something so wildly beyond imagination that—
"Seon Yuhan-ssi."
Hwang Juyeon picked up a ballot paper.
I, too, stood before the other desk and took mine.
"Once we're inside the booths, conversation won't be possible. We'll each just check our paper, come out, and—drop them in this ballot box, probably, and that'll be that."
"Got it."
Hwang Juyeon nodded.
Her expression was slightly stiff; she seemed a little tense.
"Then……"
We exchanged a brief look and were about to step into the booths when—
"Ahh. I remember now."
A small voice, as if murmuring to itself—and yet with a pull to it, like a hand seizing you by the collar.
Every gaze turned to Yu Hyeonjae.
"Seon Yuhan-ssi."
"……Yes?"
Me?
Out of nowhere?
This doesn't feel right.
"We went to school together, didn't we."
"Sh—"
At that tone of utter certainty, I answered as naturally as I could.
"If you mean Ingwang Middle School—yes. That's right."
Shingwang Middle School.
The middle school that served as the backdrop for the Singye Daily article on the mass death of every student and staff member—it was my alma mater as well.
"We were in the same grade, so I imagine we brushed past each other a few times coming and going. We were never on terms where we'd even exchanged faces back then, so I hardly expected you to remember me……."
Yu Hyeonjae had an early birthday but hadn't entered school early, which was why we'd been in the same grade.
"Just as I thought. I see."
The alumnus's head dipped in a faint nod, then slowly stopped moving—
"But as far as I remember."
It began to tilt, little by little, to one side.
"There was no student named Seon Yuhan. At our school."