Chapter 3
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: B-flat
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-*Click*
-*Clack* *Clack*
The lock didn't open. To be honest, I hadn't expected it to.
Of course.
If it were that easy to open, I wouldn't have died such a pointless death earlier.
‘Then what's this for?’
I stared intently at the note. What on earth did the hastily scrawled code ‘0134’ mean? It was a complete mystery.
Unable to find a proper answer, I put the thought aside. I’d probably have a use for it soon.
I scanned the classroom again. Just as I’d found the note, there had to be more items hidden somewhere in here.
‘How much time is left?’
[7:37]
Barely seven minutes. I hadn’t really done anything, but time had flown by.
All I’d found so far was a single note.
At this rate, I’d fail to escape this time too and meet the same end as before.
A sense of urgency washed over me. I began to search every nook and cranny of the classroom for items.
[Junk is scattered around.]
[Junk is scattered around.]
[Junk is scattered around.]
[Junk is scattered around.]
[Junk is scattered around.]
I opened every single locker, even the ones that seemed insignificant.
[It's empty.]
[It's empty.]
[It's empty.]
[It's empty.]
[It's empty.]
[It's empty.]
I searched through all the empty desks as well. If I could interact with something, I checked it without a second thought.
In games, if you just keep trying everything like this, you sometimes get lucky.
I swiped away the cascade of windows that had popped up. Even after turning over half the desks, not a single item had appeared.
‘Something should have turned up by now.’
As I was checking the last desk, a gap in the drawer glinted. Just in case, I peered inside.
[There is something inside.]
“!”
I knew it.
I reached my hand under the desk.
My fingertips brushed against something.
From the feel of it, it was a long stick.
[You have acquired a Recorder.]
‘A recorder?’
I was baffled by its random appearance. Wondering if there was more to it, I pulled up the message.
[Recorder]
【A normal soprano recorder.】
The description only complicated things further. It was just an ordinary recorder, the kind you’d see in any school. Nothing more, nothing less.
‘What am I supposed to do with this?’
Am I supposed to play “Edelweiss” or something?
I swung the recorder around like a weapon. It didn't look threatening at all.
I’d wondered if I could use it for self-defense if the security guard burst in, but this wouldn't do a thing.
‘The fact that it's an item means there has to be a way to use it.’
I rummaged through the remaining desks.
They were all empty.
The only items I could get in this classroom were the note and the recorder.
With my thick skull, I couldn't find the slightest connection between the two.
‘Is there a hidden code in the note?’
I took the note out of my pocket.
It looked no different from a piece of trash, but as long as it was designated an item, it was my only hope.
I held it up to the light, examined the back carefully, and even traced lines along its creases.
Of course, it was all meaningless.
At this point, I started to suspect it really was just trash.
‘...Enough with the note.’
I took out the second item. By process of elimination, there was only one thing left.
[Recorder]
【A normal soprano recorder.】
The answer I was looking for had to be hidden within this instrument.
I wasn't just saying that.
I had a plausible reason.
For any Korean, the recorder is an instrument you encounter in elementary school, like a childhood friend.
And a friend is supposed to be someone who offers you shade when you're struggling, right?
It was only fair that it would hold a clue for me, backed into a corner like this.
‘Does it come apart?’
I pulled hard on the head of the recorder.
It didn't budge. It was stuck fast as if someone had glued it.
After repeatedly grunting and pulling at the recorder, I eventually gave up, exhausted.
I’d used too much strength at once, and my head was spinning. This one-of-a-kind friend was no help at all.
‘I need a break.’
I put the recorder down for a moment and sank into a seat. The front of the classroom came into view.
The front door was firmly locked. Next to it was the class bulletin board.
[Class Bulletin Board]
The timetable, newsletters for parents, school schedules, and announcements were plastered all over it.
It was a mess.
You'd think the class president or the student on duty would have cleaned it up by now, but it hadn't been touched.
I couldn't even bring myself to start reading the dozens of notices.
Amidst it all, something shiny caught my eye.
‘What's that?’
Just like the note and the recorder, anything that could be a clue seemed to glow on its own, as if telling me to notice it.
I pulled out an announcement buried under a mountain of parent newsletters.
As soon as I held it, the glow faded as if its job was done.
[Recorder Performance Evaluation Guide]
The recorder performance evaluation will take place during music class next Thursday.
All students are to come to the music room at the designated time.
[Thursday, 4th Period Class Start]
[11:20]
*Students who are late will immediately receive the lowest score. Please adhere to the class time and arrive promptly.
It was a typical music performance evaluation notice.
The fact that the test was on the recorder, of all instruments, was suspicious.
‘...Is this it?’
I read the notice over and over. For a clue to escape the classroom, it was too ordinary.
Clutching at straws, I flipped it over. And there, I found new information.
It was a user manual for the recorder.
It looked like they’d used scrap paper, as the back of the notice had basic instructions on how to use a recorder.
It kindly explained not only how to hold it, but everything from its basic principles to the musical scales.
The section on fingering, in particular, was needlessly detailed.
[Recorder Fingering Chart]
A recorder produces different sounds depending on which holes are covered. Let's look at the following chart to see what notes the recorder can make.
Do 7 ●
Re 6 ●
Mi 5 ●
Fa 4 ●
Sol 3 ●
La 2 ●
Si 1 ●
-----
Do 0 ●
Open hole: ○
Covered hole: ●
At this point, I couldn't tell if this was a high school classroom or an elementary school one.
It was a glimpse into just how little the music teacher thought of us fresh-faced, angsty high schoolers.
That's how suspiciously kind this notice was. It explained everything from A to Z, as if a person were teaching sign language to a monkey, or a mother teaching her child to speak.
Reading it several times gave me an unsettling sense of déjà vu. I couldn't believe a school teacher had written a notice like this.
No, at this point, I wouldn't believe it even if you told me a human wrote it.
‘Maybe this is part of the game, too.’
A game.
The familiar yet foreign word made my head spin.
This dreamlike situation I'd been in was similar to the Tsukuru games I’d always enjoyed playing.
The messages that popped up with every interaction, the items...
...and the fact that I came back to life after dying.
I sank into deep thought. In Tsukuru games, the progression is extremely linear.
Moreover, unless it's an RPG, the story in a Tsukuru game usually progresses through puzzles.
A Tsukuru puzzle involves gathering scattered clues in a limited area to deduce a solution and solve a problem.
It's often used to open locked doors or padlocks. Vaguely similar to my current situation.
If this entire classroom was following the conventions of a Tsukuru game, then the escape method had to be a puzzle.
I gathered and organized the clues I'd found so far. Though there were only three.
The note. The recorder. The notice.
By the nature of Tsukuru puzzles, you can't do anything with a single item.
A chain reaction of clues.
You have to flexibly use and combine the scattered clues to find the answer. I began to reason things out step by step, based on the clues I had.
‘First, the note.’
0134.
The four-digit number on the note was meaningless. It couldn't be a password, as it didn't match the back door's lock. The other clues were the same.
The recorder was just an ordinary instrument, and the notice was just needlessly detailed.
‘But what if I connect these three?’
I flipped the notice over.
The user manual containing the basic principles of the recorder appeared.
Nothing else mattered.
The most important thing was the chart at the bottom.
[Recorder Fingering Chart]
A recorder produces different sounds depending on which holes are covered. Let's look at the following chart to see what notes the recorder can make.
Do 7 ●
Re 6 ●
Mi 5 ●
Fa 4 ●
Sol 3 ●
La 2 ●
Si 1 ●
-----
Do 0 ●
Open hole: ○
Covered hole: ●
This notice was the only thing that had an intersection with the code on the note.
0134, the numbers matched.
Not only did they perfectly correspond to the holes, but they also suggested a note on the recorder.
The solution to the puzzle was to cover the holes corresponding to the numbers on the chart and blow the recorder.
I was sure of it. My years of experience with Tsukuru games were telling me so.
Now, all that was left was to play the recorder.
I covered the holes in order and was about to bring it to my lips.
Suddenly, I faintly saw the name tag attached to its surface.
[10319 Jin Dayeon]
...Anyone could tell that was a girl's name.
My fingers froze on their own. My gaze naturally shifted to the recorder.
A hard, long, cylindrical plastic stick you could see anywhere.
But this new, trivial piece of prior knowledge completely flipped my perception.
Without realizing it, I glanced around the hallway, checking if anyone was watching.
There was no saliva on the recorder, but something felt strange about it.
I hadn't noticed it before, but I thought I could faintly smell a fragrance.
‘...This makes me feel like some kind of pervert.’
A male student who snuck into a classroom in the middle of the night to play his female classmate's recorder.
From an objective third-person perspective, I was, in fact, a pervert.
Realizing this, I hesitated to play the recorder. But I had to.
‘I have no choice if I want to live.’
This wasn't an act based on my own pleasure.
When you thought about it, it was more of a desperate struggle for survival. If acting like a pervert once meant I wouldn't die, it was a pretty small price to pay.
I was just borrowing a classmate's saliva-covered recorder for a moment.
It was the same principle as lending a friend your gym clothes or a textbook.
I just had to play it once and put it back. It would be dry by the next day anyway, so no one would even notice.
‘Yeah, that's right.’
I nodded repeatedly in agreement.
With this kind of logic, I’d even get my sentence reduced for extenuating circumstances in court.
If she heard the story, she would understand my situation and forgive me.
Even though I’d never exchanged a single word with this Jin Dayeon girl.
Once I finished my mind control, the lingering uneasiness deep in my chest completely vanished.
I immediately brought the recorder to my mouth.
An impure thought flashed through my mind for a moment, but I quickly shook it off.
With the recorder of a female classmate in my mouth, I slowly blew into it.
“Hooo~”
-*Screeeech!*
A shaky, ear-splitting screech filled the classroom. And a moment later,
-*Click*
The back door of the classroom opened.