The Hunt (1)

Back at the school, I casually sounded out the gallery users who were good in a fight.

As expected, it came down to Jeonseol and Gwinong.

Jeonseol, who used Mind Sword.

Gwinong, with telekinesis.

The problem was that Jeonseol was somewhere estimated to be an S-rank city-themed Backroom — if I went charging in, I could get wiped out before we even met.

And Gwinong… a veteran armband who'd survived the Backrooms a long time, stuck in some mediocre Backroom of his own, but something about him rubbed me the wrong way.

Being a moderator made things complicated, and the way he nixed and mediated every little thing gave off a seriously conservative old-man vibe. He was already nagging nonstop as it was; hearing it in person would be… yeah, no.

Jemmin knows a ton but isn't much for combat, and then there's the S-rank Backroom. So the easy option's DifficultCustomer, huh.

DifficultCustomer, who supposedly had Super Sensory, was hyping themselves hard. Apparently a highly developed Super Sensory could even glimpse a short stretch of the future. Plus they had a solid grudge against entities, so they didn't seem like the type to think of running first, unlike some people.

For now, hold. The absolute best pick was still Jeonseol, so I'd think on it a little more.

"You bring it?"

"Yeah. Fruit, stews, namul, bread, ham, jerky. Roughly followed what Jemmin said and grabbed the less-processed stuff. Cover it with cloth and flip it while it dries, should be fine."

"You know we've got to taste-test once it's done, right? If we eat it and get sick, we're all actually dead."

"Come on, you don't trust me?"

"Nope. Never have, not even once."

"Haaah."

Don't give me that look like you just lost your country. You'd have to earn trust before I could choose whether to believe you or not. Everything Namgo had shown me so far was flunking a test and getting dragged off, wild swings, turning into a pig — absolute bottom-tier ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠nonsense. Trusting that would make me the idiot.

"But you said there was an entity the spear didn't work on? Then why did this dagger work?"

"Ah, right. I was gonna ask about that."

Black Moon's regeneration and transformation. The Smile's movement ability stored in the lantern. Vortex combined the parasitic tongue's stretch with Arachne's threads spreading like spider silk into the Storm ability. And the Hungry Fang Dagger just kept eating like a Hungry Fang itself.

Ugh, Daejang here does not do hard words. Anyway, so it punches through physical immunity?

I wrote it off as B-rank and it turned out to be an insane weapon?

Come on, entity-tooth dentures? Even for me, using something as gear is one thing, but replacing a body part with an entity is a bit much.

If I'd gone into the dental Backroom without the Hungry Fang tooth, my actual teeth would've all gotten yanked…

But if I made dentures out of Hungry Fang teeth, couldn't I just chomp down and attack with them in a pinch?

The thought that flickered past got scattered just as fast. Post that on the gallery and I'd get banned again.

Still, if I ran into another Hungry Fang later, thinking about implants wouldn't be the worst idea. Kind of a shame about those two teeth that vanished for nothing.

But what happens if I bite my own cheek with them?

"You're thinking something weird again."

"No? Constructive thoughts only over here."

Making that sulky face with that face of his was kind of gross, honestly. Namgo sighed and suddenly launched into a full speech.

"If it's so constructive, why are you poking your cheek with your tongue? You stress me out every single time you do anything, so please just say something before you do it. You said you were only going to the banquet hall, so why the hell did you go to the dental place too?"

"Because the future belongs to those who act."

"Looking at you is exactly like the guy in a horror movie who walks into the place they told him not to and dies."

"I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠didn't die, though? And because I moved, you got to live too."

"Okay, I'm grateful for that! But be careful anyway!"

Agon-energy overflowing. Wasn't a real man supposed to challenge interesting things when they showed up? Getting hurt or not didn't even enter the conditions. Fail and you're a bottom-tier man; pull it off and you're a top-tier man. Simple truth.

"Whatever. Just go grab more stuff for portable rations. Once we've got enough energy bars and everything, we're hitting the next Backroom."

The loop escalator at the mall made for excellent exercise equipment. No matter how high you climbed, it was an endless stairway to heaven. Or you could just keep running the corridors. And the banquet hall — deliberately getting hungry and then enduring it was training too.

To survive the Backrooms overflowing with anomalies and every kind of entity, I honed body and mind again today.

"You're out of your damn mind… If you're just going to binge like that and then throw it all up later because you can't digest it, wouldn't it be better to just show up hungry?"

"If I starve, I lose muscle. You have to eat well for the workout to matter."

"Sure you do."

Had I eaten about five people's worth at the banquet hall? With five people's worth of hunger clawing at me, I desperately wanted to tear into the chicken leg right next to me, but I was holding out with superhuman willpower.

Steely mental fortitude that could endure situations like the TV or the banquet hall!

Of course, once this was over my stuffed gut would make everything harder, but if I was going to train every day, starving left me with no strength. So I just used the banquet hall's hunger-inducing property — eat there, then endure it.

"So why'd you come here? You already packed lunch earlier."

"I'm done. Bag's got almost a month's worth of food. Energy bars, almond water, some regular water too. But that thing is stupid heavy — you gonna be okay?"

"I'll set it down once I get there. Might have to haul it around if things go sideways, but that's what I built the strength for."

What a long, boring week. Finally I could move!

What with Namgo and the gallery users constantly telling me to be careful, plus Gwinong threatening to slap me with a penalty if I just dove into a Backroom again, I'd promised to fill the bag with food and items before I moved. Who knew a single week could be this hard.

There was a brief uproar over the entity spy that popped in to mess with us, but after announcing on the gallery that I was heading out, I slung the bag on.

Heavy, yeah, it was heavy. Items went ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in the side pouch for easy access; the main compartment was packed full of the rations Namgo had dried and stuff to drink. With this, even a Backroom that didn't produce any food wouldn't be a problem.

"Hold down the fort."

"Be careful. If you don't come back, I'm not going looking for you."

"Wasn't counting on it."

"Anyway, be careful. Don't just charge in headfirst like a headbutting dinosaur."

"Yeah, yeah. Be back."

"He's not even listening with half an ear. Ugh."

What difference did worrying in advance make? Leaving the nagging behind, I passed through the banquet hall and into the dental clinic. I sat in the broken dental chair the lantern pointed to, and after who knew how long—

A sudden floating sensation lifted my body, and I no-clipped into another Backroom.

"…Got snagged by some bastard with a nasty hobby."

In the thick darkness, countless heads welcomed me.