Chapter 311
Chapter 311
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: 311. Usefulness
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"..."
I stare at the page turning to dust and vanishing before my eyes.
That's a record.
A record left by another me.
And the fact that I can use this to save Critical...
-Flutter...!
Then, the manual—which had only been opening up until now—trembled a few times before settling into my hand like it had fallen asleep.
A bad feeling creeps over me.
"..."
-Clack!
I draw my gun and eye the monster approaching me.
It raises its hand,
[Critical: 1->0]
The world turns black and white as a red glow lights up on its forehead.
I pull the trigger without a second thought.
-Bang!
The bullet punches through its forehead. It topples backward,
-Thud!
crashing to the floor as its torso, legs, and arms detach and spill onto the ground.
But there was no time to gawk at that.
I fumble for the manual in a hurry and stare at it.
"Hey."
I tap it quietly, calling out, but the pages don't flip. No voice comes through.
"Hey, wake up."
I tap the cover again and speak, but still, no reply.
"..."
Anxiety makes my heart plummet.
What do I do?
What can I even do right now?
Think.
As I squeeze my eyes shut and rack my brain desperately,
-Rustle...
The soft sound of the manual opening drifts in. I look down in a panic.
"Hey, snap out of it—"
[Office Manual]
1. If you succeed in getting a ticket and escaping, proceed straight ahead.
2. To exit after going straight, close your eyes, listen to the sounds, and walk.
3. Find where you hear a "click" and open the door. High chance it's the exit; low chance it leads deeper inside.
4. If you make it out, find and retrieve the video without fail.
The words appear all crooked and warped.
"..."
This thing wasn't in good shape.
I clutch the manual carefully but start running anyway—quietly at first.
I lock my arm steady to keep it from shaking, lean my body forward.
"Don't worry. I'll get us out of here, no matter what."
I shut my eyes.
"And I'll figure out what I can do for you."
Survival's great. Of course everyone wants to live.
But not like this—not on someone else's sacrifice.
I'll give it everything I've got on my own, without wanting that person to toss away what's theirs just for me.
"..."
Because if they sacrifice for me even once, it'd weigh on my conscience like an anchor.
That's why Yoo Daon lingers in my head.
That's why I don't want the manual sacrificing for me either.
Eyes closed, I run.
-Click.
The sound echoes. I open the door.
"...Hah... huff...!"
Sunlight bathes me.
First floor.
I'm out.
People milling around the broadcasting station all turn to stare.
No surprise there.
My clothes look like I've been rolling in dirt—wrinkled to hell and caked in black grime.
"Hey! Who the hell are you...!"
Someone yells after me. I dodge past and bolt for the stairs.
"Hey!"
Video room. That's where I need to go.
I shove through the murmuring crowd, manual hugged tight to my chest, and break into a run.
"Weird guy's running loose! Grab him!"
Shouts rise as people chase me.
Do I claim official business? Or fire a warning shot to calm the chaos?
Official business'll waste time. A stray shot could hit someone—or make things worse.
I glance back.
Security guards in uniform barreling my way.
Gap closing fast. My battered legs can't keep pace anymore.
Threaten them for real?
My hand slips into my pocket—
"Oppa!"
A voice cuts through from somewhere. A girl hauling a hand truck blocks my path.
Black hair with pink streaks whips in front of my eyes.
Park Ye-eun, hand truck and all, stares right at me.
"Get on!"
"What the—? Wait, how'd you even get out!"
"Hurry up and get on!"
I scramble onto the hand truck at her insistence. She takes off running.
"Hup...!"
People recede with every powerful stride.
"Figured carrying a person on this counts as hauling cargo!"
"Where'd you snag the hand truck?"
"Prop room! Pretty smart, huh? I thought hard after escaping about how to actually help!"
"Quit yapping and run...!"
She nods at my words and pours on the speed.
"Ugh...!"
Faster than I imagined—terrifyingly so.
"She's quick...!"
Onlookers gape, eyes bulging.
She barrels past them, hits the stairs, and climbs like a demon.
"Grip tight!"
"Got it...!"
One hand on the truck, one cradling the manual, I let momentum carry me.
Fifth floor. Tenth. Fifteenth...
Floors whip by in a blur as Park Ye-eun assaults the stairs.
"What floor!"
"Nineteenth!"
She screeches to a halt on nineteen, kicks the door open, and charges.
"Next one!"
"Drop me!"
She unloads me quick. I sprint ahead and fling open the video room door.
Video. Video...!
Scanning frantically,
[Name: Video]
[Age: X]
[Specialty: Playback]
[Talent: Regeneration]
[Background: A movie is nearing its end.]
[Weakness: The video has already burned plenty. Smash it.]
There's the video—flames roaring, melting away.
I lunge and stomp it underfoot.
-Crush! Crush!
Fire leaps to my shoe. I ignore it, stomping relentlessly.
Until the translucent panel fades.
The video's gone.
-Crash!
A huge racket erupts from below.
"I'll check it out!"
Park Ye-eun bolts away.
"..."
All done?
Exhaustion crashes in.
No clue what even happened.
What was that video? Why'd the manual torch old records from the suicide section? Why'd I snag Critical? Why's the manual totally fried?
First real urge to rest in ages.
Fix the manual somehow, then crash. For real.
*
After splitting from the man, Song Arin kept sprinting down the hall.
"Hn, ugh...!"
She bites her lip.
Furious.
No—pathetic.
Lungs burning, but she couldn't stop. She had to run.
She loathed her useless self, hated it with a venom that twisted her guts. And knowing her only option was sprinting on two legs to raise the alarm? That crushed her even flatter.
But even that misery shrank before the terror of him dying.
Song Arin runs.
She keeps on running.
One hand flips open the manual. Dizzy, she fights through and hunts for entries.
How many pages had she rifled while pounding pavement?
At last, she finds the entry he'd been reading.
[Office Manual]
1. Keep going and you'll spot a leftward path.
2. Exit through the door—but wish desperately for what you crave. Escape will do.
-Snap!
Manual slammed shut, she runs.
Left path appears soon enough. Song Arin squeezes her eyes shut and prays with everything she's got.
No breath to spare, but she prays on.
Not for escape.
'Please don't let that guy die. Please let me do something—anything. Please make me useful...'
Eyes closed, pleading to gods that don't exist—
"Ah, ugh...!"
She slams into something solid. Eyes fly open.
A door.
No hesitation. She yanks it open,
"Arin-ssi?"
"...?"
"What're you doing here?"
Three people stare back at her.
"...Door, hurry... Kim Jaeheon, danger..."
Her voice cracks as she mumbles. They swap looks, then rush past her for the door.
"Stay put!"
"Take a breather."
"We got this!"
Their footsteps recede. Song Arin slumps against the wall, watching them go.
"Ha, ha... haa..."
Harsh breaths rasp out as she slides to the floor.
"Haa... ha... haha..."
Laughter bubbles up unbidden.
Pathetic. Utterly laughable.
She'd been right there with him—yet she'd done jack squat.
So useless she'd ditched him and fled here just to warn.
"Haha... ha..."
Awareness hits like a gut punch. Misery floods her chest.
"Ha, ha, ha... ...Hn, hng..."
Dry chuckles turn to sobs. She draws her knees up, face buried.
Just stay here?
No—that'd just make him come save her again.
Didn't want that. But hated this version of herself too.
Hated it all.
Knees hugged tight, Song Arin wept without end.
Damp breeze teases her hair.
Sunlight spills in.
"..."
It's over, she thinks. Which makes her clutch her knees harder.
She wasn't there. She did nothing.
Wanted to stay right here.
Then—
Sunlight dims. Shadow falls over her.
"..."
She looks up.
Locks eyes with the man gazing down.
Weary face. Shirt shredded. Jacket in tatters.
The man who'd sent her away stares back.
"Arin-ssi."
"Wait—this, this... is..."
She flaps her hands in panic, but the shame surges. Face dives back into knees.
Tears keep coming.
"..."
He says nothing.
Shadow lifts. Sun returns.
He's gone.
Burden too much. Hates me. I'm useless.
She buries deeper, thinking that—
"Sigh..."
His voice beside her. His shoulder brushes hers.
Lukewarm warmth seeps in.
"...Good thing this spot's outta the way."
He murmurs softly.
"...So?"
Her voice cracks. He pauses, silent, then speaks.
"Just... yeah."
"...Hng..."
"..."
She leans her shoulder against his and cries.
He pats her shoulder now and then.
She sobs on and on.
Nestled in that mild warmth—until exhaustion claimed her.