Return (2)
The bundle of thread wouldn’t loosen, no matter how hard I pulled at it with my bare hands, and not even a single strand would come free.
So the thread bundle was probably a material connected to the core of malice, too.
Tap tap. I knocked at it gently, just in case I broke something, and one strand of thread lifted its head.
That kind of method?
I kept hammering away, and before long it unraveled enough that I could’ve used it to jump rope.
So what was I supposed to make out of this?
I figured the core of malice probably held its own unique power, depending on the ability the anomaly had shown and the name it carried.
Marionette could summon part of the mannequin anomaly it had absorbed.
As for Black Moon, which had turned into a sword by now, the guard had ten fingers spread open like a flower petal.
"Yo, heart!"
The blade of Black Moon bent, drawing a heart in the steel.
Basically, it could move however I wanted while keeping its toughness intact?
Honestly, it felt a little less useful than before, but Black Moon’s attack power was good enough that I was satisfied.
Then, back to the thread bundle.
"If it’s a power that spits out spiderweb-like thread, then a bracelet you wear on your wrist is probably the best shape, right?"
At first I’d thought about a whip, too.
If the spiderweb ability could change length freely, it’d be useful in a lot of ways, but it was still kind of awkward.
I wasn’t exactly so combat-savvy that I could handle Black Moon and a whip at the same time, and more importantly, what kind of man walks around with a whip? Seriously.
I’d circled through rope, belt, necklace, and all kinds of other options, and where I landed in the end was a bracelet.
Once it became a bracelet, the advantages were obvious.
1. My hands stayed free.
2. If need be, I could turn it into a shield like a cocoon.
3. Full Spider-Man cosplay, absolutely possible.
There was no reason not to do it.
"Focus, focus. The more I get absorbed in it, the better it seems to come out."
I had no idea why I was trying to apply craftsmanship principles to an ability, but what else could I do?
I slowly unwound the thread bundle, then wove the loosened strands into a tight mesh and coiled it into a neat ring.
...Where’s an anomaly when I need one?
I didn’t have nearly the same concentration I’d had when there’d been an anomaly behind me.
Maybe I just didn’t have the determination of someone who knew he’d die if he got this wrong.
I widened my eyes and glared at the bracelet I was forging, but under the quiet lights of the mall, the tension just wouldn’t stick.
And if I went back into the Backrooms just to do this, I’d be insane, right?
I almost felt tempted, but I gave up on that and finished the forging with the bracelet already halfway done.
The final strand of the thread bundle joined the bracelet’s weave. I set the lone core of malice into the round opening at the center and called it finished.
A bracelet that looked like some pricey piece of jewelry was complete.
> Arachnid Bracelet (B): Black Thread, Silver Thread
"Two abilities! If a maggot pops out, I’m scrapping this thing immediately."
I threatened the bracelet once, then went straight to equipment testing.
I aimed the fabric-bodied mannequin hanger at my left arm and fired the Black Thread.
A black line shot straight out, then with a soft pop it spread wide and covered the mannequin’s torso.
"Oh, black really is just the spiderweb ability as-is."
The Black Thread clung stickily in place.
The mannequin and its clothes were all tangled together and stuck fast, but weirdly enough, it didn’t latch onto my hand.
It really did feel like I’d become a spider.
Anyway, I tried my best to peel the Black Thread off, but the adhesive strength was so fierce that only the stuck-together clothes tore.
I shot it at the ceiling, hung from it, struck a Spidey pose, then lost my balance and thudded to the floor.
Rubbing the small bump on the back of my head, I grinned.
Good. With this, I should be able to pin an anomaly down without it being able to move.
"So what’s the Silver Thread for-"
Next up was the Silver Thread.
I fired it at the mannequin as well, and a silver line punched deeply into the torso.
This is... offensive?
No, more like the thread itself felt like a thin, sturdy rope.
The tension when it bounced back and forth was good, and I could control it to a certain degree, too.
The masses envied me, and women dragged me over the coals.
That was me.
Ah, this is why I flex.
I ate coconut water and an energy bar, using Namgogoedam’s screaming as a side dish.
Who was I to ever walk away from these two and say I was sick of them?
After dropping by another Backrooms level for once, I suddenly understood why this shopping mall was called a difficulty-3 easy-wins safety zone.
With even the leftover anomaly gone, this place was basically heaven.
It was a little short on supplies, sure, but food kept showing up on time, and for what it was, the place was pretty bright and comfortable.
So that was why they’d begged people not to noclip in here.
People who’ve truly awakened are always rejected.
Today, too, I walked the path of Galileo and thought about how I might awaken the fools on the gallery boards.
But before that, maybe I should get some sleep for once.
* * *
"I’m insanely jealous."
Kim Gwak-cheol shut down the computer and left the computer lab.
At thirty years old, trapped in a school and being chased by tests and anomalies, Kim Daejang was nothing more to him than a complete lunatic.
An anomaly crying angel?
Honestly, that sounded hilarious.
Wasn’t it basically over if you just walked backward down the hallway for ten hours?
And if you broke it first, like Jemmin said, then it was over too. He was such a damn lucky bastard, Kim Gwak-cheol thought bitterly.
Then this crazy bastard started hunting anomalies.
Worse, he said he wore them.
Even if they looked fine, they could suddenly move or stick to your body, and he wore them around like they were armor.
That was when I knew it.
Messing with this guy was dangerous.
What the hell is his brain even made of?
Kim Daejang, who was always pulling off one bizarre stunt after another, had suddenly taken down a boss-class anomaly in the Backrooms.
And then came peace.
Back then, I was so damn jealous I could’ve screamed.
A safe safety zone!
For a split second, Kim Gwak-cheol had considered following Kim Daejang and trying to take on an anomaly himself, but in the school he was trapped in, there were only basic school supplies and nothing that could really be used as a weapon.
"...Hah. Let’s go check the scores first."
When the exam ended at noon, it was self-study time.
Until midnight, he was free, but not really free.
What mattered was six o’clock, when the test score sheets were announced right before dinner service.
One of the school’s rules.
The average score on exams had to be 60 or above.
Students who failed had their names underlined in a long, vicious line.
"Number 24... Kim Gwak-cheol."
After checking his own name, Kim Gwak-cheol let out a breath of relief.
Somehow, he’d survived again.
Four more names were below his, and two of those beneath them were crossed out.
29. ̶□̶□̶□̶
30. ̶□̶□̶
"Wow, it’s food."
"I wonder what today’s menu is?"
The students, their faces blurred as though covered by a mosaic filter, spoke in flat, emotionless voices.
Each of them sat in their own seat and opened the lunch boxes that had been handed out.
Meanwhile, the two desks belonging to students who had fallen short were dragged backward.
Kim Gwak-cheol opened the lunch box in front of him and forced down the bland-tasting rice.
Crunch, crack, creak-
Gulp, click, slurp-
Splat, smack, gulp-
Behind him, disgusting sounds rang out.
But he couldn’t look back.
The second rule of the school.
During meals, be grateful for the meal and focus only on eating.
Even if something red occasionally splattered all the way to the front.
Even if you heard something go splat all over the place.
Even if it sounded like bones were being ground to slurry in a blender, you focused on the meal.
Ugh...
Suppressing the nausea rising in his throat, Kim Gwak-cheol chewed and swallowed rice and side dishes whose taste he couldn’t even identify.
When the one-hour meal time ended, freedom returned again.
The students studied, wandered around, and carried on pointless conversations.
And the desks that had been pulled back a moment ago were soaked red, as if they’d been dipped in sticky blood and then pulled out again.
...That was the result of falling short on points.
It was why Kim Gwak-cheol read his textbooks with desperate intensity.
Damn it, I went to an agricultural high school. Why the hell am I doing calculus?
Math problems that made no sense no matter how long he stared at them.
He was barely keeping his score afloat by clinging to the handful of things that seemed even vaguely familiar, but this damned exam kept changing the material.
After the exam ended, he ate, studied, took short naps, ate again, and killed time by scrolling through the gallery whenever he could-
"Let’s go home."
"See you tomorrow."
"Bye."
The students headed down the stairs after exchanging dry little farewells.
Kim Gwak-cheol had followed them down a few times, too, but the only thing waiting for him was always the same floor. He was never allowed to go home.
And the moment the lights clicked off throughout the school, the janitor began his patrol.
The third rule of the school. After dismissal, do not get caught by the janitor.
Hah...! Of all places, it starts here and now, you bastard!
Kim Gwak-cheol held his breath as the classroom door suddenly opened.
In front of him, a man in a janitor’s uniform jerked his head from side to side while sweeping a flashlight around the room.
The patrol route was random, but his luck was garbage.
The janitor, whose jaw looked torn away, stuck out his tongue and shuffled past Kim Gwak-cheol.
Existence Erasure
The ability he’d gained the moment he woke up in this school.
As long as he held his breath, even the janitor couldn’t notice his existence.
He wouldn’t get caught if he just didn’t breathe, but the problem was that the bastard janitor’s patrol speed was completely arbitrary.
Sometimes he’d spend ages on a single classroom, so all Kim Gwak-cheol could do was pray this wasn’t one of those times.
Damn it, get the hell out already!
And of course, this had to be the time.
The janitor lingered for a long while, carefully inspecting even the desk drawers for no particular reason.
The breath he’d swallowed in a panic was already close to its limit.
Shit. If even the head guy could do it, then why the hell can’t I?
Kim Gwak-cheol grabbed his chair and brought it down on the back of the janitor’s head.