You Said It Was a Dating Sim?

"How'd it go?"

A sly voice drifted in from behind me. I couldn't peel my eyes off the monitor as I answered, the words coming out limp.

"...I'm screwed."

"Pffhahaha! Called it. I heard a sneeze around here — that was you, wasn't it?"

Supervisor Cha strolled over with a paper cup of instant coffee and gave my chairback a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠smack, cackling.

God, I hate this guy...

Yoo Han-ah had drifted over at some point and was peeking over the partition, fidgeting as she stole glances at my monitor. The look she gave me was half worry, half curiosity.

"Did you get one, Han-ah?"

She nodded carefully at the question.

"Yes.... I signed up for the Late Night 24-Hour Convenience Store."

"For real?"

Supervisor Cha's eyes went round.

"You some kind of pro? You actually broke through that?"

"I've run university course registration for my younger siblings a few times..."

Han-ah said it matter-of-factly, though the unexpected praise seemed to ease her expression a little.

She was a way more competent hire than I was, wasn't she.

She stared at the application details sitting in the corner of my monitor, then tilted her head.

"Heart-Pounding Summer File? What kind of anomaly is this?"

"What, heart-pounding whatever-it-is?"

Supervisor Cha stopped mid-sip and shoved his face in toward my screen.

"Ah, this one? Man, it's been a while."

"Why? Is it really dangerous?"

Han-ah asked, worry in her eyes.

The reason I'd picked it was simple.

The other anomalies sounded vicious from the names alone.

I'd missed the convenience store, missed the Line 0 train, missed the study cafe. That left me grinning and bearing it, forced to pick one of the hell postings —

The Blood-Boiling Bathhouse. Abandoned Hospital Night Shift: Room 404 Morgue....

One look and you knew they'd be gore-soaked corpse fests. Why would I go there?

Meanwhile, Heart-Pounding Summer File?

The title alone was likable. Had to be a dating-sim creepypasta.

I'd maxed heroine affection meters hundreds of times from my bedroom. Beats a bloodbath by a hundred miles.

I scratched my head and answered Supervisor Cha.

"Ah, it was the only one left."

"Still, this one's a bit..."

He stroked his chin, an odd look on his face.

"Why, Supervisor? Do people get torn apart in there too?"

"No, not that. It's just... I don't really know this one."

"You don't know?"

"Yeah. Everyone who comes back says the same thing — their memory's all foggy. So intel's pretty thin. Other than that, the clear time runs pretty long? You'll get it once you look at the manual."

At his prompting, I clicked the screen.

Why is this so short?

There was a blurb, and that was about it. The actually important parts — the clear condition, the cautions — were dashed off like an afterthought.

"Don't arouse suspicion. That's all of it?"

"Told you, we barely have any info. And you're the only one who even signed up. Just go butter up the heroine and come back."

Supervisor Cha scored the empty paper cup into the trash and stretched.

"Alright. You've seen the manual. Let's go."

"What? Right now?"

"You think you get to loaf around on your first day? Follow me."

He shoved his hands in his pockets and strode off toward the elevator. Han-ah waved me off from a distance, her eyes full of pity.

Basement level four.

The moment the elevator doors opened, a chill washed in. The musty smell peculiar to underground bunkers hit me, and I missed fresh air in an instant.

It's cold down here.

I hunched my shoulders and rubbed my arms. Massive blast-proof steel doors lined the cold concrete corridor without end.

The warnings were stenciled in scarlet on every wall. Overhead, CCTV cameras hung in dense rows, tracking our movement with a creak.

"Why are we down in the company basement?"

"Artifact-type anomalies like this one all get stored down here for convenience."

Supervisor Cha answered with his hands still shoved in his pockets, like he'd walked this hall a hundred times.

"You saw it in orientation — anomalies aren't just things that happen in a place. Sometimes they nest in objects."

Objects imbued with an aberration's power. So that was what they called an Anomaly Artifact.

"These artifact-types are great to lock up on-site and siphon energy from. Easy to manage. You just have to make sure a Rapture doesn't happen."

"A Rapture?"

"Yeah, you don't need to know. What's a rookie doing learning about that already?"

Says the guy who brought it up.

He cut the explanation short and jerked his chin toward the security desk at the end of the hall.

"You brought your terminal, right?"

I pulled the terminal from my suit's inner pocket and gave it a shake.

"Do well in there. I'm not interested in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠going to a junior's funeral."

A guard was slouching at the security desk. Navy hair tied up high; a long sword worn slanted at her hip. She looked me up and down with a dry gaze.

"Rookie?"

Contrary to her sharp features, her voice was thinner and cuter than I'd expected.

"Ah, yes. That's right."

"You going in?"

I held out the barcode on the terminal screen, and she scanned it with a reader.

"F-219?"

I nodded.

She gave me a look that said my taste was truly something else, then turned.

"Follow me."

Lightly gripping the hilt at her waist, she strode into the F-rank Artifact Zone. Dozens of containment cells lined the corridor like a honeycomb. She stopped in front of the door marked F-219 and tapped the employee ID hanging from her neck against the reader.

A double lock disengaged, and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the heavy iron door clanked open. She held the handle and jerked her chin at the room.

"Go in."

"Ah, thank you. So, um... your name—"

Slam.

The door shut in my face before I could finish the sentence.

Aigoo, I was just trying to ask her name.

She was a face I was going to see every damn time I entered an anomaly, and she had a hell of a temper. Grumbling, I looked around.

Gray soundproofing on all four walls, and nothing in the middle of the room but a steel desk and a single chair sitting there forlornly. A classic interrogation room, straight out of a movie.

What is this, The Dark Knight?

And on the steel desk, on a silver tray, sat a single white letter. The envelope's corners had yellowed, and a tiny heart sticker was stuck to it, as if to make absolutely sure you knew it was a love letter.

There wasn't a time limit, he'd said.

A sealed room, and nobody rushing me to go in. I could take my time preparing and it wouldn't be too late.

I raised a hand into the air, pulled up the Anomaly Minor Gallery, and typed the keywords into the search bar: game / dating sim / possession.

...Yeah. This genre was definitely niche.

Nothing that meaningfully matched the anomaly in front of me.

If I could just ask, the difficulty would've dropped off a cliff.

The fourteen-day ban stung all over again. I slapped both cheeks and pulled myself together.

Alright. Get it together, Jeon Yul.

You've got eight years of dating sim experience. You're going to freeze up over this?

Just pick the right choices.

Repeating it like a mantra, I tore the envelope open.

Meeen— meeen— meeen—

A shrill chorus of cicadas rang in my ears. An old wooden desk and a chalkboard, long shadows thrown by the orange sunset.

A familiar notification window — but the graphics were a little different.

A system unique to this place?

"Jeon Yul."

Rattle—

The front door slid open, and a girl in school uniform stepped into the classroom. Pale skin, large eyes, her uniform worn neat as a pin. An innocent beauty who looked like she'd just stepped off a dating sim cover. Her brown bob, glittering in the sunset, brushed against her cheek.

So she was the one I wasn't supposed to make suspicious.

"Yul, you haven't left yet?"

She walked toward me, smiling sweetly.

"Don't tell me... you were waiting for me?"

"Yeah, of course!"

The words left my mouth on their own, before I could answer.

Scripted opening, then? Predetermined lines?

"Yul?"

She tilted her head. Yul, Yul, Yul — she repeated the name to herself, and then the light in her eyes— vanished.

What?

As if mocking me, a system message rose into view.