Second Night: The Unblinking Eye
Up until the second patrol, there had been exactly three topics you couldn't post about on the Gallery: Song Ha-yeon, Kim Eat-Chil, and the noose's binding. I pondered what they might have in common. No clue. No common thread came to mind. Song Ha-yeon was still an unconfirmed entity. Kim Eat-Chil was definitely a youkai. The noose's binding was a youkai's function. Even assuming Song Ha-yeon was a youkai, it was weird that only the noose's function got censored. There weren't enough samples to judge anything. I needed more info. With a sigh, I stood up to start my shift. The duty log had no incidents listed today, so it should be easier than yesterday. That's what I thought.
Unlike yesterday, the annex door was closed. I'd brought the baseball bat just in case, but no need for it. I sprayed some lubricant into the door crack. No need to check inside, right? Opening and closing it unnecessarily might draw a swarm of youkai. I locked it obediently and moved on. Annex clear.
Back in the main building, as soon as I hit the second floor, I glanced out the window. Part fear that those laughing maniacs from last time might be waiting, part curiosity. Were they still there like that? Human curiosity is a scary thing. Like the thrill of doing something wrong in secret. They couldn't hurt me anyway, so what? Of course, if that insane scene was still playing out, I'd bolt straight to the third floor. Curiosity is curiosity; fear is fear.
But it was nothing like I'd expected—or last time. A house-sized eyeball. A single white orb stared right through me. A chill ran down my spine, but it just watched, doing nothing. This was manageable. After yesterday's shift, my fear threshold had risen after just one day. Even as I checked and locked the classroom doors, the eye's gaze followed me. You know that prickling feeling on your back when someone's staring? Exactly that. It kept nagging at me, making me look. The eye wasn't unchanging. Red veins started appearing one by one, like bloodshot eyes. Starting to get creepy. I averted my gaze, focusing on the doors. Ignoring it wasn't polite. The eye observed me with the intensity of stripping me bare. Its gaze pierced everything. Veins multiplied, turning it red. Dryness couldn't stop it. Blood spurted from cracks in the eye. Pain couldn't stop it. Blood splattered the window. Revere the gaze gratefully. The eye shriveled, but still watched. Hiding or covering wouldn't escape it.
I finished locking up to Class 1-5 and bolted downstairs.
Conclusion: From now on, no window glances on the second floor. The rules said it couldn't harm me, but staring at that thing would wreck my mental health. Next time on the second floor, I'd channel a crab and scuttle by. Still, having faced it once, it took less time to calm down than before. At this rate, it'd be over quick. I headed to the third floor.
Nothing on the third. No Kim Eat-Chil, staff room locked tight. Corridors where you just don't run—leisure returned. Unlike yesterday, all classroom doors were locked. Did Kim Eat-Chil unlock them all last time? Anyway, third floor clear.
Fourth floor in a nutshell: freeze tag with emergency lights. Light on: freeze. Light off: tag. Way tenser than the third. No running unless I slipped, but freeze tag had high mistake potential. Pitch black when off. Eyes adjusted from the light, saw nothing. Felt my way along walls by touch. Only my mind knew if I moved. And freeze timing. If it lit up mid-lock, hands up and hold. Like getting punished in school. Back then I'd sneak down, but now moving might mean death. Cursing inwardly at the sadistic timing, I successfully locked up to Class 3-5. Fourth floor clear.
Unlike yesterday, I didn't forget—stopped by the admin office before the guard room. Returned the duty log and key bundle, grabbed the new log. On day two, I'd perfectly adapted to the job.
Sitting in the break room, I browsed the Gallery chatter. Posts flew up fast—never boring. A few stood out.
Checked every car today. Looks like it's only for escaping to the living world.
Gloomy post. Was there really an escape route? Someone said an old escapee posted before.
They said the noose I found was fake. But if you see an exit, how do you tell if it's real?
Posting ban again. Escape clues get censored? Then it hit me: How did PillPoppingCheetah know the escapee couldn't post due to ban? Asked directly—got a solid explanation.
The escapee's last post before vanishing: Found the exit, recruiting for his workplace. But no evidence, just "trust me." No escapes then, and no safe way to his site anyway. No one tried. He vanished post, no replacement. If true: 1) Exit doesn't move—fixed spot, search workplaces. But weird 66 died without finding it. 2) Not single-use—recruited others. Problem: Can't reach it. Leaving post makes you outsider—unknown territory, no rules, wander monster city to escapee's site. Suicide.
Checked time: 11 PM. One hour to first-floor corridor limit. Impulsively posted.
Watch over me!!!
As expected, "exploring" blew up—mostly worry, not cheers. Sure enough, the admin showed.
What? Admin was chill. Not that dangerous? Gripped the bat, left break room. CCTV showed fifth-floor corridor still red-tinged—ominous. But rules covered it and facilities. Follow rules, survive. Not patrol-related, so not memorized—time to now. Sat, memorized before heading out.