Playroom Rules: Mask or Die
I push through the thick darkness of the Fog Forest's mist and return to my home—my dungeon, the abandoned mansion. Kiiiek— the rusty iron gate screams in protest. As I close the front door, the noises of the outside world are perfectly shut out. In the profound silence, I take out the small glass vial from my pocket.
The vial containing the remains of the client's daughter. The child murdered by adventurers due to the negligence of drunken employees. A portion of her grudge is sealed within this.
Resentment makes for excellent ghost story material. My thinking hasn't changed. This powerful grudge will be the perfect catalyst to elevate my dungeon to the next level.
But.
"……."
The chilling touch from the glass vial in my palm nags at me. It's a sadness too heavy to dismiss as mere material.
Still, she's just a kid... I can't just toss her into that stark yellow room. I know it's hypocrisy on my part. In the end, I'm just using her remains for my own gain. That's why I want to show at least minimal respect. Or maybe this is the last shred of conscience I have left.
"Yeah. Let's do that." With my mind made up, I decide. I'll create a space for this child. A place where she can rest eternally while becoming the new heart of my dungeon.
I immediately open the dungeon editor. I plan to transform the second floor of the abandoned mansion into a new area.
"Search. Items, playroom set."
I roughly select props, items, and skills from the catalog and insert them.
Programming in progress... Setting Nameless Remains as core.
Creating and binding Playroom zone to core.
Programming in progress... Combining remains and clown to generate ghost story.
Designating clown as core guardian.
Behavior settings... Establishing playroom rules.
That's right. I'm going to make a playroom for the child.
"Hmm, so this is that rumored abandoned mansion?" Logan adjusts the sword at his waist and scans the mist-shrouded mansion.
What's unique about him is that he's not the type who dives into dungeons for money or fame. He's a pure explorer who gets a thrill from venturing into unknown spaces and uncovering their secrets.
The reason Logan came here is simple. One post he saw on the gallery last time drew him to this place.
The post was filled with madness. Endless yellow rooms, no exit, eating his comrades—rambling insanity. Naturally, the gallery users' reactions were cold. Mocked as a troll novel or attention-seeker, the writer was branded a shitposter and banned.
But Logan read something beyond mere madness in that post. His seasoned senses, honed from countless dungeon explorations and brushes with death, told him it might be true.
"Alright." If it's real, this is huge news. Logan is a named user on the gallery for his dungeon exploration content. A successful run here would boost his fame another level.
He immediately starts writing a new post on the gallery.
Logan smiles at the comments. Whether that post was fake or real, he had no intention of using the front door. He plans to climb the vines on the outer wall and enter through a second-floor window.
With agile movements befitting an adventurer, he vaults over the window frame into the room.
Logan scans the playroom cautiously while checking comments. A teddy bear doll on the floor catches his eye especially—its eye area stained black, giving an unsettling vibe like a doll mask.
"Why's there a doll mask here...?" Logan approaches curiously.
Right next to the mask is a scribbled note in childish handwriting. He picks it up carefully.
[Rules]
- This is the playroom. In the playroom, you must wear a doll mask to breathe!
- Otherwise, the clown will get you?
"……?" Logan stares at the note in bewilderment. Clown? Doll mask? What the hell is this? Some childish prank by the dungeon owner?
He decides to share the situation on the gallery.
"Haa...." Logan sighs. DungeonAppraiser and FactChecker are right. The infamous Red Mask dungeon—still unconquered, the worst of its kind. If this is like that, follow the rules first.
It feels gross, but better than dying.
"Fucking creepy." Logan grumbles as he picks up the teddy bear mask. A musty smell wafts from inside. He squeezes his eyes shut and pulls it over his head.
His vision narrows instantly, suffocating tightness flooding in. Through the mask's black eye holes, the playroom looks far more sinister and grotesque than before.
"Hoo." Logan exhales heavily. He's followed the rule. Nothing happens.
He lifts his communication orb to post on the gallery.
His finger freezes mid-air as he tries to post.
"……!"
Beyond the mask's narrow view, something appears. One, two, three... Things crawl out from the playroom's shadows, all wearing identical teddy bear masks to his.
They say nothing, move not at all—just turn their heads and stare blankly at Logan.
Cold sweat trickles down Logan's spine as he grips his sword hilt tight. Unknown entities. But he can't act rashly. They might not harm him since he's following the rules. Worst case, he can cut them down.
Logan decides to watch calmly.
Then.
Clack— clack— Shoe heels echo from the hallway. Light but unnaturally offbeat footsteps.
Soon, a tall figure appears at the playroom door crack. Face painted stark white, lips blood-red, black tears around the eyes—a clown.
Wearing garish clothes, the clown scans Logan and the other bears one by one. No expression on its face. Just the painted smile frozen eternally.
The clown's gaze lingers on Logan. He holds his breath. Heart pounding wildly, but he stays still, pretending to be a bear doll.
"……."
Silence stretches eternally. Finally, the clown seems bored and turns away. It clacks off down the hall as if nothing happened.
As the clown vanishes, the staring bears melt back into the shadows. Logan is alone again.
"Haa... haa……."
Only then does Logan exhale. A real clown... who would've thought. He's drenched in sweat. If he hadn't worn the mask? The clown would've noticed for sure.
"Better bail now?" Logan feels uneasy. More than before. No lingering here. He wants out of this bizarre playroom ASAP.
He posts a final survival report.
Logan gives a wry smile at the reactions. Chickening out? Ego bruised, but not worth dying over.
Confirming the post, he yanks off the teddy bear mask.
"Hoo... Feels like I can breathe now." Fresh air fills his lungs with sweet relief.
Logan turns toward the entry window.
But.
"...Huh?"
The clown from the hallway stands silently before the window.
"……!"
Since when? No sound, no presence.
"……."
The clown slowly raises its head. The painted smile looks even more chilling.
"Ah……."
Logan's body freezes. The note flashes in his mind.
- This is the playroom. In the playroom, you must wear a doll mask to breathe!
- Otherwise, the clown will get you?
You need the mask to breathe. And Logan just tossed his away himself.
The clown's painted lips tear upward slowly. Sharp teeth gleam from within.
Keeheeheeheeheeheeheeheehee—! Mad laughter fills the playroom.
The clown charges at Logan. His final memory is the approaching torn smile of the clown.