First Warning, Drunkard's Beating

I was pretty much out of it when I saw the Warning Letter. I'd woken up today feeling refreshed for the first time since starting here—no nightmares or anything. But there it was, sitting in the Guard Room: a single Warning Letter. The first time I looked at it, I couldn't make sense of it. I'd definitely checked every classroom door before heading back. The second time, still nothing. I figured it had to be a hyper-realistic dream and pinched my cheek hard. The pain just made reality hit even harder.

By the third look, one fact suddenly clicked. The drunkard. That youkai left alone on the second floor. Logical deduction: it was the culprit.

"What're you doing?"

I hadn't even noticed Song Ha-yeon approach right up to me while I sat there dazed in the Guard Room.

"Ah... nothing."

"Really? You looked like your soul had left your body just now."

It pretty much had. Didn't the Gallery say three Warning Letters meant dismissal? I had zero intention of stacking them up, but here was one right in front of me already.

"Ha-yeon, do you know about the key bundles in the Admin Office?"

"Sure. They're piled up in that box in the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠middle, right?"

So it wasn't just me seeing it that way. I couldn't for the life of me understand why they managed keys like that. Outsiders could just grab them, so what were the Admin Office staff even doing?

"Do you know how many there are in total?"

"One per class, plus ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠extras for the Staff Room, Admin Office, and Guard Room—makes twenty in all."

"Twenty?"

"You think it's weird too, right, Guard? It's the vice principal's policy, though. Nothing we can do."

All I knew about the vice principal was not to enter the Vice Principal's Office. Seemed like a seriously prickly youkai. Never seen them once, but definitely not someone I wanted to run into.

"Well, fighting spirit for today, then."

"Yeah. Take care going in."

Song Ha-yeon clenched her fist in encouragement before heading out the Central Entrance. Every time I saw her, she shook me up. Maybe she was a youkai that lulled you into carelessness before the hunt. Whatever her true intentions, she was a healing presence right now, no doubt. I shoved my gloomy mood aside and opened the duty log file. I slipped the Warning Letter inside and checked the special notes section. Something was written there today, too—and it plunged me back into despair.

Maybe because this wasn't my fault this time—no one was mocking me. That was some small comfort. It made me realize I deserved the support. The world—no, the Gallery—was a warm place.

The admin wasn't at fault either. He'd faithfully given me info, even mentioned records of subduing them. Should I have just beaten the drunkard like a dog in the dog days of summer yesterday? Nah. Like he said, no self-blame. That just makes fixable problems worse.

The drunkard better not whine about it being unfair when I hit back. It was the drunkard that turned my non-violence into Be-violence. Clutching my bloodthirsty baseball bat, I stepped out of the Guard Room.

★

I didn't lose my head enough to go hunting the drunkard right away. Duty rounds came first, no matter what. I headed to the Admin Office to pick up the key bundle. The mannequins were still stationed there as always. I counted the bundles in the central box one by one. Twenty. Just as Song Ha-yeon said. Meant the drunkard hadn't taken any yet.

Come to think of it, couldn't I just lock the Admin Office after returning them? The bundle naturally included the Admin Office key. But my gut screamed not to.

The rule flashed in my mind. I'd forgotten it was a dangerous spot. When I first read the rules, I thought something like that would never come up—who'd break it? I half-expected the mannequins to chase me if I tried. Big mistake. It wasn't a pointless rule. And that meant more youkai stealing keys to pry doors open.

Thinking about it, the admin was shocked the drunkard pulled it off but didn't bat an eye at the idea of youkai taking keys in the first place. The future looked bleak. For now, I shoved it aside. Locking the Main Gate had calmed my head a bit. Time to plan how to subdue the drunkard. Subdue—did that mean beat them until they dropped?

Munching on today's fish gut school lunch, I posted on the Gallery.

One thing did scare me a bit. Kim Eat-Chil from my nightmare. Looked subdued, but no real damage. Was the drunkard the same type? But the predecessor subdued one and posted about it fine, so probably not.

I had no special prep for fighting youkai. Baseball bat was my only weapon, so just steel my resolve. I coolly posted on the Gallery that I was heading out, then stood up. Per the duty log, drunkard should be on the second floor now. I locked the Annex door first. Same order as yesterday: fourth floor down in reverse.

Nothing happened, just like before. Hit the second floor and immediately channeled my inner crab—back to the windows, checking doors. Class 1-1, 1-2: both locked. As I neared the central stairs, the crying started right on cue.

"These damn things... fucking..."

The drunkard, crouched on the stairs lamenting their fate. That youkai pried every door yesterday, landing me the Warning Letter. When you face an unstoppable natural disaster, who do you blame? Heaven or gods? Pointless venting. But if the culprit's something you can fight?

No need to blame others. Pour your rage straight at the source.

The youkai hadn't noticed me yet. I gripped the bat tight and snuck up behind. Swung with all my might at the back of its head. The aluminum rang out clean. The youkai tumbled down the stairs, slamming into the wall.

"Urk!"

If it were human, I'd feel guilty. But this drunkard was definitely a youkai. No trained human bounces back right after rolling down stairs into a wall. Yet it bled from its body but creaked upright.

"You... why'd you hit me... fucking... you ignoring me too?"

It staggered up the stairs. I charged down, swinging the bat at its head again. It flailed, took the hit, and crumpled. Still twitching to rise. Beat till it stops moving, right? I plunged the bat vertically into the fallen drunkard over and over.

Any ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠passerby would think I was trash. Truth was the opposite. The drunkard was trash. Making me get a Warning Letter? Deserved death a hundred times. Drunk prank or not, this was life-or-death for me.

I vented all my pent-up stress right ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠there. Felt like a solid minute of joyful beating. Regained my senses, stopped. No more movement. Subdued. Felt refreshing. I checked the rest of the doors and returned to the Guard Room. No nightmares tonight, for sure.

★

Back in the Guard Room, I bragged all about it on the Gallery. Users mostly cheered me on or said it felt satisfying too. Dopamine rush over, back to routine. Joy's fleeting, but the good mood lingered quietly. Human emotions are weird.

After midnight, into the wee hours, I got fidgety. Could I just stay holed up till shift end? For peace of mind, I posted on the Gallery and stepped out. Just check the central stairs quick. Constraints meant going up to the second floor anyway—better than constant anxiety.

Stepped onto the central stairs and climbed. But the spot where the drunkard fell? Nothing there.