Kim Eat-Chil (2)
Of course, I had a ton of questions. Ever since I'd been dumped into this bizarre school, my mind had been swimming with doubts. Even the Gallery, stacked with years of accumulated info, was clueless about heaps of stuff—and plenty of it was the kind you couldn't even post about without getting censored. Narrowing it down to just two was brutal. Sure, limiting it to what Kim Eat-Chil could answer helped, but it was still a mountain.
"By the way, what do you mean I can't leave the third floor? You saying you couldn't come down here normally?"
"Is that a question?"
"Nah."
Kim Eat-Chil clamped his mouth shut like he wouldn't spill a word unless it counted as one of my two. No point in fishing for extras with leading questions, then. For a youkai, he had info lockdown down pat. Or maybe that's just how youkai rolled.
As I stewed over it, he finally broke the silence.
"Sun's setting soon. Spit it out already."
"Time limit or something?"
"Question?"
"No way—this is basic stuff you should just tell me, right?"
He shut his trap again. It was making me antsy for no reason. Felt like sunset was closing in fast. What happens when night hits? Right now, he looked like any ordinary male student. Did he turn back into that black mud monster I knew once the sun dropped? Sure, but trivial stuff like that didn't make the cut for my precious questions.
Then it hit me—the nightmare from before. In the dream, some guy got attacked and devoured by Kim Eat-Chil, but here I was, alive and kicking. And even now, I wasn't picking up any real hostility from him. Just... like he was enjoying my agony a bit.
What was the difference? Figuring that out might help me survive. Youkai moved by constraints, right?
"Kim Eat-Chil... you can't attack me right now, can you?"
"...That's a question, yeah?"
The hesitation was new—unlike before. I took it as a yes and fired off what I'd really meant to ask.
"No, I mean, I'm curious why you can't attack me."
"......"
Silence. Good sign for me. But then his lips twisted into a grotesque grin. Bad sign?
"Aww... too bad. Hate spilling that one."
"...What? You're not gonna tell me?"
"Don't worry. A promise is a promise."
His giggling cut off sharp. Back to normal boy mode, he started explaining.
"Role."
"Role?"
"Yeah. Long as you stick to yours, I can't touch you."
My role as security guard, I figured. If he was right, any slip-up outside guard duties could mean chow time for me. Made my first-day moves sound spot-on. But I'd admit, they were kinda weird. No way all 66 predecessors pulled that off to survive. Some probably didn't, sure, but that level of trial-and-error seemed off. This wasn't something the rulebook could cover.
Kim Eat-Chil, though, had his mouth sealed tight again, staring me down.
"Why you talking down to me, anyway?"
"...Huh?"
"I'm the guard, you're the student. Show some respect."
"You picking at that now?"
"Picking?"
"...Are you picking, sir?"
"Yeah."
I nodded, satisfied. I'd tossed that out the second I felt safe—worked like a charm. Come to think of it, he'd used polite speech back when I first laid into him like an old fogey.
Kim Eat-Chil's face soured, annoyingly human-like. Hell, it was almost cute. Snap out of it. This youkai was a brain-munching fiend.
"Next question, then, sir."
Seeing him all polite was weirding me out. Time for question two. Needed to pry something useful. Counseling Room popped right up—lately it'd been nagging at me. Seemed like entry conditions, since it was locked when I tried. The tape cut out with static, Gallery had zilch. But was it too simple? I hadn't even tested it yet.
Problem was, it'd hijacked my brain. Once fixated, nothing else surfaced. Should've had more, but "Counseling Room" just floated there.
No choice—asked about entry conditions.
"Counseling Room? Teacher leaves at quitting time, duh. That your question, sir?"
I was an idiot. A little solo pondering—or checking Gallery—would've cracked it. Writing ban probably kept it off there, though. Wasted a question. As I slumped, Kim Eat-Chil cackled.
"Want her quitting time as a freebie?"
Mocking tone or not, free info was free. I nodded.
"Seven."
"...What?"
"Didn't hear? She clocks out at seven."
Speechless. Wasn't the duty bell at seven? So how the hell was I supposed to get in? Kim Eat-Chil clocked my panic and added,
"She preps to leave, so rush it and it'll still be open."
Rush there—relief, short-lived. Heading straight to Counseling Room delays locking the main gate. Rulebook said lock it first thing.
Conflict. I grabbed at his pant leg anyway.
"Know the main gate cutoff?"
"You used both chances, sir."
"Can't you just chat normal for once?"
"How should I know? I don't."
He beamed at my frustration. Was "don't know" real or trolling? Either way, Counseling Room entry wasn't easy—good and bad news.
Good: Didn't waste question two. Normal prep would've never clued me in. I'd have banged on a locked door forever.
Bad: Ties to blowing duty that day. Skipping gate lock means penalty, rule break or not.
Then—bam—world went pitch black. Day-to-night switch like flipping a bulb. Central Entrance plunged into dark, CCTV screens flickered on. The boy in front of me? Black mud youkai now.
"What'll you do, sir?"
Polite words, torn grin. Chills, but no fear. I ducked into the break room, swapped to uniform, emerged.
Destination set.
"Lock the main gate, duh."
"I'll tag along. Wait here."
Dunno why so nice, but he waited obediently in the entrance while I hit the Admin Office. As I stepped out, he trailed me like a puppy.
At the main gate, Kim Eat-Chil stepped right out. Nothing happened. Youkai perk? He bowed quick, then strolled off into the street, vanishing down an alley without a word.
He'd insisted on coming for a reason, but it was too peaceful—fishy. Overreacting? Maybe just a student tagging along with the guard.
My gut screamed no.
"Sigh..."
Night just starting, and I was wiped. Locked the gate, headed back to the guard room.
Back in the guard room, the duty log file caught my eye. Special notes mentioned running into Kim Eat-Chil on the third floor. But we'd just parted at the main gate.
Flipped it open. Special notes? Blank, pristine—no trace of erasure.
"What the..."
While I was out, someone—or something—had edited it. That hunch hardened into certainty. Then, unbelievable: text etching itself into the special notes.
'Intruder spotted on 2F: 1 outsider.'
Magic auto-log confirmed. But who cared now? Outsider on the second floor? That hallway where chaos exploded outside the windows? My grand plan to possess a crab and cheat constraints? Shattered in real time.