First Annex Exploration (1)
Resolutions are fragile pillars that can crumble at any moment. Take New Year's resolutions, for example—ones we always fail to keep. So how do you stick to a resolution? You need boldness here. Only by charging forward boldly can that pillar of resolve stand firm in its place.
That's what I needed to do, but right now, my resolve was shaking in real time. True to my word, I'd made it bravely to the Annex entrance. All that was left was to pick the lock and step inside. But I kept hesitating right in front of it.
Just brushing my foot against the threshold had summoned that mystery youkai, splattering the door with bloody handprints. It was ridiculous to think I could easily overcome the terror I'd felt back then. The Guard Rules Booklet wouldn't lie. As long as I trusted it, I'd be safe. I knew that in my head, but when it came time to move my body, it wasn't so simple.
Of course, the thought of taking a short break and coming back later had crossed my mind dozens of times. But if I did, I'd probably just hole up in the guard room scrolling the Gallery forever. The folks there wouldn't chew me out for it, sure. A few might tease, but no one wanted to see me die.
"Hoo..."
The world is one you navigate alone, they say, but isn't this a bit too lonely? If there was just someone to chat with at my side, maybe it'd be a little easier. That's why I'd stopped by the gym storage before heading to the Annex and grabbed a volleyball. I named it Kaiser. A strong-sounding name seemed right. Better to have something reliable by my side than just a casual chat buddy.
Alright. With Emperor Kaiser at my side, fear has no hold on me. Is this why people turn to religion? Of course, the fear didn't vanish. I clutched the volleyball tight in one hand. With the other, I carefully undid the Annex padlock.
Click. Terrifying. The moment I opened this door and stepped in, would the handprint youkai come for me again? I finally understood why the rules said to head straight down the stairs the instant you entered. What kind of guts did my predecessors have, diving in without a rulebook? Respect.
Through the glass door, the interior was pitch black, revealing nothing—like it refused to give away any info until I committed. One last check of my inventory before going in: volleyball in left hand, Annex Rule Book in right. Key bundle and utility knife in my pocket. The keys were only for locking and unlocking the entrance—no keys for the Annex facilities inside.
"Hoo-oo..."
I kept sighing. Deep breaths are supposed to calm you, but they weren't working. I placed my hand lightly on the Annex door and looked at the volleyball. Kaiser. Give me courage. The guts to fling this door wide open.
Once I opened it, the handprint youkai would react for sure, forcing me inside. Just push. Push, and to survive, I'd have no choice but to move.
"Hah... hah..."
Danger had never come on my terms before. But now, I was diving headfirst into a peril I sought out myself. Think of my immediate predecessor. He'd explored every facility in the Annex—without a rulebook. And I had one. Soonbaek-i's rules had never led me astray. Her motives were a mystery, but she seemed to want humans to survive. My predecessor and Soonbaek-i proved the Annex wasn't instant death.
I squeezed my eyes shut, then snapped them open, gripped the door hard, and shoved it open. Thanks to the lubricant I'd applied before, it swung silently and smoothly. From here on, hesitation meant death. I strode boldly into the Annex.
What greeted me wasn't inky blackness, but blinding light. The ceiling lights blazed on, illuminating the entire interior. My vision cleared, and I took in my surroundings. A long corridor stretched ahead, with stairs to the right.
I'd seen this before—in the main building's fifth floor. There was a rule not to linger too long in one spot. Even without rules, my predecessors must have had some basis for judgment to explore. Following the rules, I checked the stairs first. The upward stairs were lit bright; the downward ones plunged into darkness. The floor of the downward stairs was splattered with what looked like bloodstains—a warning not to go that way, maybe.
But trusting the rulebook, I stepped onto the downward stairs without pause. As lighting faded, darkness deepened. Yet the moment I reached the lower floor, lights snapped on everywhere, like motion sensors, flooding the space with brightness.
This was the true start of my Annex exploration.
I immediately flipped open the rulebook, scanning for changes. Some pages were still blank, but others now had text. No time to read leisurely—I skimmed from the front. What I needed was how to identify my current floor. And there it was, a perfect match.
Annex Facilities Layout
1. If you see the library, you're on 1F.
2. If you see the art room, you're on 2F.
3. If you see the science lab, you're on 3F.
4. If you see the auditorium, you're on 5F.
5. If you see the canteen, you're on B1F.
6. [Blank]
Something was off with the rules. No mention of 4F, and 6 was empty. I looked up and checked the corridor. Left side: windows showing the outdoors. Right: facilities. What I saw: computer lab and tech/home ec room. Not listed in the rules.
So, this must be 4F. I searched for corridor rules.
Annex Corridors
These are ordinary corridors.
It was there. But why bother writing that? I took it to mean corridors are safe. Since I wasn't exploring facilities today anyway, I checked the stairs rules next.
Annex Stairs
1. Going up takes you to the upper floor.
2. Going down leads to an unknown floor.
3. Regardless of direction, never go more than three times in a row the same way.
4. Same floor only ■■■ ■■■ ■■■■■ ■■■■.
That nagging feeling was spot on—the rulebook felt weird. Main building rules were clear to avoid confusion; these felt like creepy urban legend rules. And now, blatant censorship on rule 4. Same floor only. Spacing in the censored text made it guessable. Probably a warning about looping on the same floor due to rule 2, with an escape method censored out.
A bad premonition hit. These hunches always nailed it for me. Stair travel seemed fine if I followed rule 3, so I headed down one floor and checked the facilities: 'Computer Lab', 'Tech/Home Ec Room'. I cursed out loud. Why was my gut always right?
Was this really 4F? I went back up the same stairs. Completely different floor. Instead of corridor start, a glass door to a vast space. Sign above: 'Auditorium'.
This was the legendary spot no predecessor had dared explore. Definitely 5F; my previous spot was 4F. Facing the auditorium sparked curiosity. What made it so ominous that even my rulebook-less predecessor skipped it?
Peering through the glass, the interior looked like any normal auditorium. But the creepy part—people. Not one, several. All in matching gym uniforms, doing gym activities. Some doing bodyweight exercises on white mats. Others chatting in groups by the walls. Playing futsal on mini goals. Badminton over nets.
Their expressions were natural, unforced, but utterly silent. A scene that could not exist in this world. I stepped back instinctively. I instantly understood why no one explored the auditorium.