Remember Me

One piece of good news.

I finally know for certain what happens when you get trapped in an elevator inside this labyrinth-ified building with its ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠scrambled floors and plummet to your death.

Second ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠piece of good news.

I found out where Yoon Geonmin disappeared to.

Third piece of good news — the fucking kind.

The accountant still seems to be hungry.

"If you could turn back time, Mr. Seon Yuhan, what would you do?"

I'd get Choi Jaeha out of that elevator.

My own life is one thing, but…

Being eaten by the thing that had torn that man's twisted body apart and worn it like a bundle of rags — that, too, wasn't exactly a pleasant way to go.

Choi Jaeha deserved a better death than that.

Driiiiiiiing—!

Set off the fire alarm on the third floor, and Choi Jaeha climbs out of the elevator without my having to say a word.

Ninth floor.

The panel number had stopped at 9, which meant he'd gotten off there. The instant he heard the alarm, he apparently bailed out at the nearest floor — and last time, that was exactly what I'd exploited, timing the alarm to the moment he drew close to the third floor.

BAM! Ku-goong, KWAGWANG, kwaang! Kwagwang, THUD!

I listened to the falling show and walked into Conference Room D.

"Hello, teacher!"

"Uh… yes. Hello."

The students were as unpleasantly identical as ever.

"I have a question too, teacher!"

"Go ahead."

"I've seen large entities coming out of places called hospitals, carrying small entities — averaging about 3.2 kilograms and 49.6 centimeters. Is there some special qualification required to purchase one of the small entities, teacher?"

"No, I didn't exactly purchase them…"

I dragged social graces and basic manners out of storage by force and dealt with the monsters until the seminar ran its course.

It had to score higher than last time's three. Three was far too precarious a score.

"Don't you want to get out of the labyrinth, teacher?"

"Of course I do."

And that was it — the students ended the seminar without even pressing the follow-up question of whether I'd actually be let out.

"Congratulations on passing, teacher!"

Persnickety little things, the lot of them.

Even though I'd answered everyone in earnest good faith, there were always those dredging up absurd complaints — that a so-called teacher was too stingy to give out even one name, that we weren't allowed to so much as see the teacher's back, and, shit, that I was pretending not to know them when we'd just reunited after so long…

"Goodbye, teacher!"

"…"

I slapped the badge on in a hurry and fled the third floor.

I still found them revolting. The monsters wearing human skin.

"Hello. I'm Seon Yuhan."

"Ah, ah! You startled me, standing there all quiet like that. Anyway, I'm Kim Heesook. I do the cleaning around here."

"Hm… I'm Yoon Geonmin. I work in HR here. And where might you be from, Mr. Seon Yuhan…?"

On the twelfth floor, I ran into Kim Heesook of the cleaning staff and Yoon Geonmin of HR once again.

"Oh. Ohh… so you came in for an interview with our company…?"

With the second round of introductions out of the way, the conversation turned naturally to where to go next.

"Oh, right. I was just debating with young Geonmin here whether to go in or—"

"—How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that? What do you think this place is, some neighborhood association meeting?"

"Aigoo, sorry, Mr. Yoon Geonmin. He's just like a son to me, you see."

Kim Heesook beamed right through the young man's irritation, utterly unscathed.

"Anyway, I was just deciding whether to go in with Mr. Yoon Geonmin or not. Why don't you come along too, Mr. Seon Yuhan?"

"Yes, gladly."

And so we decided to enter the server room together.

"Whoa, hold on, I'm not going. What ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠do you think is even in there?"

Yoon Geonmin excluded again, of course.

"Wait, you're seriously going in? You'll die doing that, I'm telling you…? Ugh, fine, whatever. Do as you please, then. Honestly, you can teach some people a hundred times and they just won't learn. Some folks have to get burned before it clicks…"

I didn't bother coaxing Yoon Geonmin, who was dead set on staying behind alone, either.

I'd pulled Choi Jaeha out of the elevator, but I still needed someone to play the canary, just in case. When I came back out into the corridor, if Yoon Geonmin was gone, it was over — and if he was still there, problem solved.

"We'll be off, then. Our paths may split, so Mr. Yoon Geonmin, don't go wandering into anywhere on your own—"

"—Yeah, yeah, I know. Naturally I'd know better, seeing as I work at a guild."

'Seeing as I work at a guild,' is it…

I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠turned the words over in my head, then gave a noncommittal nod.

"Right. Let's go, Ms. Kim Heesook."

As Kim Heesook and I made for the server room, the cleaning cart was half-blocking the door, same as before.

"Aigoo, look at me, my head's all over the place. I just left it sitting there any old way…"

Creeeak.

Her sheepish way of shifting it aside hadn't changed either — though for the life of me I couldn't fathom why she kept apologizing to me of all people. My best guess was that she'd once been on the receiving end of some trumped-up complaint about where she'd parked her cart.

"I'll head in first, so please follow after me."

"Okay, okay, got it."

Everything after that played out the way it had before, too.

Kim Heesook gawked at the Information Support Team office smothered wall to wall in vine-like cables, nearly tripped and went down, then pulled through with a surprising sense of balance.

"Wait, hold on — shouldn't we be starting from over there…?"

Kim Heesook pointed at the server room door, black cables spilling out of it like something gone mad.

This part had to be different.

"No — I think it's better to check the nearest thing first, then head in together after."

"Hm, well… I suppose that makes sense?"

Thankfully, Kim Heesook followed without protest, toward the one powered-on monitor in the corner of the blacked-out office.

"Hm? What's this. That's strange."

"Strange how?"

"Hmmm, no, everything else is exactly like our company site. It's this bit that's a little different."

Kim Heesook's finger pointed at the screen — at the '▢ Remember me' line, to be precise.

"It wasn't there before?"

"Nope, it wasn't. It's… ah, I can't show you on the app right now. The internet's down…"

Last time, I'd thought exactly that and let it slide. But if the labyrinth's hand had touched it, that was another story entirely.

"Ha…"

Remember me.

It was far too loaded a phrase to make me want to press it.

But what if checking the box was one of the conditions for entering the server room?

"Ms. Kim Heesook."

That was why I needed someone else.

"Ah… ahh…"

Kim Heesook fell silent for a moment, wearing the grave expression of someone weighing something carefully, then nodded as though she'd made up her mind about something else entirely.

"Then I'll do it. It wouldn't sit right with me, palming this off on a young man who's like a son to me."

Which would make me the person palming it off on a woman who was like a mother to him.

"If you're willing, then by all means…"

Not that a bit of number-juggling like this meant much anymore. This was, after all, the day I'd killed even a kid who was practically a nephew to me.

"Then…"

Kim Heesook settled carefully into the chair at the desk.

Tap, tap-tap-tap.

I quietly studied Kim Heesook's fingers as they flew across the keys. For a woman who did such grueling physical labor, her hands were surprisingly delicate.

Tap-tap-tap, tap!

Her hands left the keyboard as swiftly as a musician finishing a short piece.

The numbers and special characters stood out clearly thanks to their positions on the keyboard, but from the angle I was watching at, a few of the letters slipped past me. She typed faster than I'd expected, too. One more look and I'd have it all.

I stared silently at the back of Kim Heesook's chair, then put my weight into my left arm and leaned on it.

"But aren't you going to check that booooox—!"

CRACK!

The backrest flexed and buckled, my balance went with it, and I very nearly toppled over — I just barely caught the desk and hauled myself upright.

"Oh my! Are you okay? You didn't hurt yourself?"

"Ah… whew. Yes, I'm fine."

Rubbing my numb forearm, I looked at the screen.

"Oh…! I'm so sorry…! The password…"

All that had happened was that the backspace key had taken a hit while she flailed for the desk. Purely by coincidence.

"Oh, never mind the password — I'll just type it again. Long as you're not hurt, that's what matters."

Kim Heesook gave a good-natured little smile and set her hands back on the keyboard.

Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap, tap-tap, tap!

The password was 'Cordla123!'

Responsibility, was it…

'Cordla' wasn't an English word. It was the Korean word for responsibility, typed out letter by letter on an English keyboard.

"Oh, right — that's what I was going to ask. Aren't you going to check that empty box?"

"Hm? That thing?"

When I pointed at the blank checkbox, Kim Heesook's eyes went round.

"Well, no… doesn't it feel a little… off to you?"

"If the labyrinth added it, that means the box has something to do with this floor's rules. And playing along with the tune is a human's job."

"Hnn…? Says who…?"

Me.

"Ah… I'm sorry, that came out like I was pressuring you. The risk is yours to take or not, Ms. Kim Hees—"

"Goodness, no, it's fine, it's fine. Don't bow over nothing."

When I bowed my head deep in apology, Kim Heesook grabbed my shoulder, hauled me upright, and waved her hands in dismissal.

"Well, what you're saying does make a kind of sense, Mr. Seon Yuhan…"

Saying that, Kim Heesook reached for the mouse.

Click.

"Like I said, let's try it without checking the box first, and then with it checked…"

It isn't coming over.