Chapter 6
Chapter 6
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Safety Rating
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Early in the morning, I started the day with a shower. Beyond the bathroom door, my phone—blasting at max volume—was playing the news on YouTube, which had replaced the TV these days.
[Next up. Around 5 a.m. today, Kim Hyung-woon, the perpetrator of the Garosu-gil stabbing massacre, has passed away in the hospital. He had indiscriminately swung a knife at passersby on Garosu-gil, claiming twelve lives. It's been revealed that he was receiving psychiatric treatment recently, leading to speculation that the motive, shrouded in mystery, might be schizophrenia.]
I stared into the mirror, locking eyes with my reflection as hot water scalded my skin.
[He was a college classmate of mine, and I had a bad feeling about him even back then. How should I put it? He seemed normal most of the time, but every now and then his eyes would turn ice-cold, giving me chills—like I knew he'd cause some big trouble someday.]
My left eye was brown, while the right—indistinguishable at a glance—held a faint swirl of blue.
[I never hung out with him because he always rubbed me the wrong way. I can read faces, you see, and his screamed selfish, short-tempered, the type who treats people like objects. But I never imagined he'd do something this horrific...]
The gift—or curse disguised as one—left by the blue moon remained a mystery, its purpose and power unknown.
[Some are pointing to an extremely violent game found on Kim Hyung-woon's computer, suggesting game addiction led him to confuse reality with the game. Here's an expert's take on that.]
Whatever. I'd figure it out eventually. For now, since it was squirming anyway, I needed to stock up properly—and that meant heading out today.
[Yes, regarding Stardew Valley, the game found on the perpetrator's computer: at first glance, it's just a farming sim. But dig deeper, and you'll see it harbors extreme emotional violence.]
[In what way?]
[Stardew Valley lets you interact with virtual people beyond just farming. You build affection, maybe even get into a relationship or marry. But affection can drop, or your spouse might get boring.]
[What then?]
[You start the game over. Like a psychopath, as if none of it ever mattered.]
[That's chilling.]
[The perp was diagnosed with excessive stress at the psych ward. It means he harbored massive resentment toward society. A normal person would've untangled their issues through talk, compromise, effort. But Kim Hyung-woon lacked the ability or the will. He probably just wanted to reset everything, like in the game.]
By the time I finished showering, the news had wrapped up.
[To prevent tragedies like this, we need disease codes for game addiction and stricter, more thorough regulations on games...]
I turned off the lights in the apartment—might not be back for days—and stepped out.
"Alright, time to go pick it up."
Surviving Among Entities wasn't popular from the start. When I first found it, it was just your typical dying indie game.
[Negative Review: Game sucks, fucking hard.]
[Negative Review: Is this a fucking flatfish simulator? Dies like a motherfucker just like the rumors.]
It nailed the creepypasta vibe and the portrayal of entities humans couldn't resist, but the problem was it was too good at that—surviving was straight-up impossible.
[Negative Review: "Figure out the randomly appearing entities' traits and countermeasures to survive as long as possible!" <- Game description lmao.]
[Negative Review: "Pray the random entities don't show up and test your luck! If they do, you're fucked!" <- Rewrote the description, whaddya think?]
Here's how Surviving Among Entities worked.
First, it's turn-based. Each turn, you roam areas triggering events. Events fall into four types per the wiki: positive (30%), negative (30%), boring chit-chat with no change (30%), entity-related (10%).
Second, for non-chit-chat events, you get an image and text describing the situation. Input your action as text, and an AI processes it for the outcome.
That's the whole system—simple, which made it brutally hard.
[Negative Review: Feels like a TRPG where the dice are 1-99, but 99% of the time you roll a 1. Trash.]
Because back then, there was zero info on entities. No gallery, no wiki—the dev's head was the only source.
[Negative Review: What the fuck do these entities want? Why are they doing this? Give a hint at least? Libraries, case files—plenty of ways. But this shitty game makes you dive in blind, and not multiple choice—free response? Dev's mom dead?]
└[Dev Reply: Entities are beyond human resistance. The fun's in discovering that. Too much info kills it.]
└[Still fucking no fun now?]
The dev had mad artisan spirit and love for the game, but zero grasp of the audience.
[Guys, made a game. Wanna try?]
[Surviving Among Entities? WTF? Don't dump random shit in the indie gallery.]
For me, unraveling it was the thrill, so I hoped it wouldn't flop. Luckily, the dev adapted, swallowed his pride, took user feedback. Gallery popped up, wiki followed, entity info spread. Game stayed tough but playable—a creepypasta gem.
'Though blindly following advice led to extinction endings everywhere.'
Not all entities screamed doom and destruction. Some were useful tools or just curiosities.
'Entities that pose zero harm to humans.'
Safety Rating.
Time to meet a few.
『Gangbyeon, Gangbyeon Station. Exit on the left.』
Human history is the history of class struggle.
-Where to?
"Yangyang, please."
Humans always divide into hierarchies, slicing each other up for superiority via ranks. Same in modern times—grades everywhere.
"Gonna hit the rest stop on the way?"
"Why? Bathroom worries?"
"Nah? Rest stop walnut cookies are divine. You skipping?"
"Can't eat on the bus, right?"
"Eat before boarding."
College in Seoul or provinces? National or private?
Foreign or domestic car?
Big corp or SME?
"Departing now."
Entities had ranks too—four grades.
"Ten-minute break at the rest stop~"
Most destructive, wielding world-ending power: Extinction Rating.
Even within grades, variance was huge. Some topped out at a city; others could wipe regions, nations, continents, worlds, universes.
"Heading out~"
"Driver! Wait! We haven't boarded!"
"Ung ung! Woo woong!"
"Damn it! Swallow before you speak, it's gross!"
Next: Danger Rating, one step below Extinction.
Powerful, but blockable physically or limited casualties.
"Yangyang~"
Third: Symbiosis Rating—won't harm humans first, or ignores them outright.
Useful if handled right, even sealing/banishing other entities. Mishandle? Deadly.
"Where to?"
"Know Daelim Bookshop?"
"Daelim? Oh yeah! Got it. There?"
"Yes, please."
Last—and my target: Safety Rating.
"8,900 won."
"Thanks."
Gangwon beyond Cheorwon was new to me, but the shabby '80s-era building ahead? Familiar.
'You have arrived in Yangyang, Gangwon Province. Wandering a town with nothing to see, your gaze locks onto a rundown bookshop, drawn inexplicably.'
I checked the faded sign above the door.
'The shop is called "Daelim Bookshop." Entering, the musty scent of old books greets you.'
Sliding the door open, the musty old-book smell welcomed me.
'The elderly owner ignores you, like "Buy if you want, browse if not." Browsing, you find a peculiar book.'
Ignoring the indifferent old man, I scanned the shop and spotted an odd book atop a pile of used ones in the corner.
'It was pure white—cover to contents. Blank as a notebook, yet amid the shop's decay, it alone looked brand new.'
I checked the very last page of the pristine white book.
'At the center of that final page: these words.'
[May luck be with you, finder of this.]
[May luck be with you, finder of this.]
Buying the book, I tried chatting with the old man about its origin.
"One thousand won."
"When'd you get this book?"
"One thousand won."
"Where from?"
"One thousand won."
Parrot mode only—no real talk possible.
"No cash... give me a sec to..."
He whipped out the card reader before I finished—like pulling a smartphone in an '80s flick. Awkward, hilarious.
"Thanks. See you again."
Heading to a motel for the night, I pondered.
'Was the shop always there, or spawned when entities went real?'
Not all entities are random events. Some spawn at fixed spots with probability—like this book in Yangyang's fixed map.
'Maps exist for these fixed entities, I guess.'
Untested, so en route to the motel, I grabbed a pen at a convenience store.
"The mother of success isn't failure—it's experimentation."
In my room, I wrote on the notebook's first page. Closed it. Something clicked in my head.
[Notebook in My Head]
[Rating: Safety]
[Pure white book, blank cover to contents. What you write inside saves to your mind, retrievable anytime.]
I laughed.
"Perfect."
One less worry.