Mothers Are Great

“...Anyone there?”

The subway car was completely empty, not a soul in sight.

Being all alone in this vast space sent an inexplicable chill down my spine, but I shook it off and recalled what I knew about the dungeon.

This setup... I was a company man, right?

That was what it said on the employee ID hanging around my neck for some reason.

According to the info I'd gotten from the Association ahead of time, I was a fresh-faced newbie heading to my first day as an intern at a big corporation.

Surprisingly, that was all the info there was to know about this dungeon.

No boring, pretentious backstory like in the previous dungeons.

It's a bit sparse on details, sure... but it'll be fine.

But that sparseness might actually be the problem. I had zero clue about the clear conditions, the detailed worldview, or anything else.

Still, dungeons with minimal info popped up now and then, so it wasn't a huge deal.

Might as well take a seat for now.

With nothing else to do, I plopped down in a random spot and pulled out my phone.

Even inside a dungeon, this modern-world setup had solid signal.

Of course, the phone was something I'd "acquired" in the dungeon—it was already in my pocket when I entered.

About ten minutes into some mobile gaming, a mechanical voice crackled over the subway speakers.

“What the hell was that?”

The station name was all glitched out—I couldn't make it out.

Sounded kinda like Seoul Station, but... nah, this didn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠feel like a broadcast glitch.

The one thing I knew about this dungeon? Its genre: horror, ghost stories, the creepy shit.

Guess things were finally kicking off.

The doors slid open, and people swarmed in, filling the car to the brim.

...What the fuck are those? People?

The weird part? Every single one boarding had pitch-black faces with no facial features whatsoever.

That's when it really hit me—this was a horror dungeon.

Oblivious to my tension, the black figures moved in perfect sync like machines, claiming every seat.

They took the spots on either side of me too, until every person in the car had a seat.

Except for one lone black figure, standing blankly right in front of my seat.

“Huh? What'd you say?”

Listening closely to the broken voice, it sounded like "my seat."

Normally, I'd politely move aside, but something felt off, so I tested the waters.

"Nah, I was here first. What's with the 'my seat' bullshit?"

"What, you a broken record or something? Stretch your legs—get some exercise."

Hmm, this is fucked.

It wasn't raging at me or getting physical, but I got the message: move.

Should I give up the seat now? But my gut was screaming no...

“Fuck, what the hell?”

Now it was screeching in some totally incomprehensible voice.

I reluctantly stood to move—right as

—the door to the connecting passage between cars opened, and a woman stepped in.

She had a name tag reading [Han Yeonju Station Attendant] on her chest, and unlike the others, a perfectly normal face.

“Passengers~ Ticket inspection starting now. Please have your tickets ready!”

Going about her business so casually amid the black figures? She wasn't normal either.

But tickets? I didn't have one. I rummaged through my pockets and clothes—nothing but my phone.

“This bitch is still losing her shit.”

For some reason, the black figure got even more frantic once the attendant entered. It went from emotionless to sounding straight-up terrified.

“Oh my~ Looks like one passenger's riding fare-free?”

“Shush now~”

The attendant, now right beside us, grabbed the arm of the black figure whose seat I'd taken.

Yes! Drag that asshole out!

“Not sitting? ...You know what happens, right?”

“Aw~ No exceptions to the rules!”

The black figure protested wildly, like it was wronged.

I couldn't understand it, but from the vibe, it was communicating with her fine.

The attendant pointed her index finger at it, like she was done ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠talking.

“Snip-snip!”

Her single shout echoed through the silent car.

Just a girl's cry—but the result was gruesome.

“Still making excuses? No remorse at all!”

What the fuck was that?

The black figure in front of me got its head sliced clean off.

So fast I couldn't even track it.

“Okay~ Let's resume ticket inspection!”

While I reeled in shock, the attendant chirped brightly.

Beaming with energy, she fixed her dark eyes on me.

“May I see your ticket?”

Fuck.

Here it comes.

“Me?”

“Yes~ You!”

“Aw, c'mon, don't be like that. Aren't I a regular?”

“First time seeing you, passenger!”

Stall for time.

The dead black figure's cause? Fare evasion. And guess what—I was one too, no ticket.

Get caught, and it'd be snip-snip for me.

Only one play here.

“Hand over the ticket quick!”

“Sheesh, here it is. What's with the rush between us?”

I flashed the ticket I'd swiped from the black figure's corpse pocket while the attendant was distracted.

Its seat was here too, so no issue.

“Thanks for your service, now if I could have my tic— ”

“Hey.”

Or so I thought.

“Yes?”

“That's not your ticket!!”

Until her face twisted in rage and my head rolled.

Fuck, you Association bastards said it was no big deal.

“Hmm, what now.”

Loop 5 in the ghost story dungeon.

Steal other passengers' tickets? Fail. Fight the attendant? Fail. Flee to another car? Fail.

Died each time, obviously.

Why's the difficulty like this? It's low-rank, right?!

Low-rank my ass—even A-rank North Sea Ice Palace didn't kill me this pathetically.

Low-rank? Bullshit.

Gonna complain to the Association once I clear and get back to Korea.

Anyway, gotta figure out how to ditch that bitch attendant soon...

As I pondered, my eyes landed on a special seat in the subway car.

Yes! That'll do it...!

I rushed over and sat there before the black figures swarmed.

“Passengers~ Ticket inspection time. Have your tickets ready!”

The attendant strolled along brightly, demanding tickets.

(P.S. The original owner of "my" seat was already snip-snipped.)

“Ticket, please?”

“One sec.”

She'd finished checking the others and approached me.

I fumbled awkwardly in my clothes, grunting.

“Hold on... where'd I put it...”

“...Passenger?”

She reached out with a low voice.

My body tensed; my eyes locked on her hand.

“No other fare evaders, headcount matches—if it's a hassle, skip it. Have some barley tea instead.”

“Th-thanks...”

Thank fuck—her hand held a cup of barley tea.

I bowed gratefully, took it, and she smiled faintly as she passed by.

Jackpot—my plan worked.

I turned to gaze at my savior.

The priority seat for expectant mothers—standard on any subway.

If every seat had an "owner," sitting here made me look pregnant.

Even the head-chopping attendant respected pregnant women!

“Republic of Korea really is a warm country!”

I cheered as she headed to the next car.

Then every black figure stood, glaring at me.

“What're you staring at? Never seen a pregnant lady before?”

Their eyes screamed resentment, but I ignored it.

Jealous? Go get knocked up yourselves.