The Unbearable Tentacle Gaze and the Moon's Emergence

It's you again? "Think you can handle it?"

Raopf sneered, drawing the cameras in close.

Aside from those filming reactions, most of the lenses were trained on her and Jeongchan.

Jang Namgyu watched the scene unfold.

Their images filled the lenses.

The amorphous tentacles writhed like boiling sludge, leaving an unforgettable afterimage that churned the mind just from looking—something no one should ever see.

Jeongchan approached the tentacle mass.

It was the price for gazing upon the forbidden.

The closer he got to Raopf, the more blood streamed from Jang Namgyu's eyes. The price for gazing upon the forbidden.

"Team leader. That guy Jeongchan—is there any way we can help? It looks incredibly dangerous."

"...Who do you mean is helping whom?"

Nahee let out a hollow laugh at the bold question.

"He knew it was a mission like this when he signed up. He can handle it."

"You're saying that, but your eyes are glued to Jeongchan."

"...I just don't want any accidents. He wouldn't do anything irreversible in front of civilians, right?"

"Huh? Raopf values the show too much to kill him right away."

"...That's not what I meant, but there's nothing we can do anyway. Let's just watch."

Jeongchan's hand plunged into the tentacle heap. As he pushed deeper, his legs buckled, freezing him in an awkward stance.

The lower hosts, who had been laughing, went rigid, fidgeting anxiously.

'Has he reached the point where he can't even bluff anymore?'

It wouldn't have been strange if he'd passed his limit long ago.

Jeongchan closed his eyes and began to sing.

"East sea, Baekdu Mountain—"

The lyrics and melody carried a dignified resolve, almost reverent at first glance. Whatever the song was, it seemed enough to steady his mind.

Regaining his composure, Jeongchan withdrew the arm he'd thrust into the tentacles. A single tentacle clutched in his hand.

The agents who saw it all screamed in silent horror. Nahee even turned the heads of the hypnotized civilians away.

It was enough to make anyone faint just from looking—how was he enduring it?

'I can't take any more.'

With that final sight of Jeongchan bringing the tentacle to his mouth, Jang Namgyu fainted standing up.

The penalty had barely been going for three minutes.

*

There are two ways to really piss someone off. The first is trailing off mid-sentence...

And the second is acting like you're about to give something, then not delivering.

.....

With three whole minutes left, Raopf just bailed.

No matter how off her condition was, could penalties really change on a whim? Justice demands seeing punishment through to the end.

Her bizarre behavior was infuriating, but all I could do was return to my seat and solve problems.

'Better send the civilians out quick and handle this.'

The announcement blared, and among the four teams, Team A escaped first. Good thing—the kid and the old folks didn't look like they could last.

-It's break time. Please head to the waiting rooms.

The participants now had time to rest in the waiting rooms.

"Good work."

Whether she knew how I felt or not, Tosami offered some comfort. She probably wouldn't understand for the rest of her life since she ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠doesn't run hot-headed, but it warmed my heart anyway.

Her blunt speech and rat-like appearance hid a surprisingly warm vibe.

"Thanks, but that won't cut it."

"Oh...? What would make it better?"

"Petting your ears might help a bit."

"My... ears?"

Tosami's rat ears perked up. The fluffy inner fur looked so soft. Just touching them might bring me some solid peace.

"...Your eyes look weird."

Tosami shot me a prickly glare.

"Fine, I'll let you. Ears only."

Tosami turned her back to me and sat. Her legs dangled in the air, not quite reaching the floor.

She wore a bag—that was her true essence.

Materialism and metaphysics still fiercely debate body versus soul as essence, but the Response Bureau succeeded in packing most of a human's into a bag. Called Ratmen, they overcome anomalies.

Her body—two brains, five hearts, and cultured organs—was just an external terminal linked to the bag.

If the neck connection snapped, she'd drop lifeless. But as long as the bag held, she could revive endlessly.

"Not gonna touch?"

Tosami asked flatly while injecting glucose into the bag.

"I will."

"Don't yank too hard. Sensation's dull, but I hate pain. If it festers, it's a headache."

"Got it."

As my hand neared her ear, the bristly fur tickled my fingers. Parting the waves of fur, my hand touched the thin, pink skin beneath, veins faintly visible.

A strange warmth hovered between lukewarm and hot.

"......"

The thicker the heat, the calmer my mind grew.

"Done?"

"Yeah. It helped."

"...Okay."

Tosami fiddled with her ear herself, glancing at me.

"Got some time. What now?"

"Gonna scout around."

I'd forgotten ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠amid Raopf's antics, but the show might not follow the rulebook.

Needed to check with staff for changes. Plus, curiosity about the staff anomalies.

"Scouting's my specialty. Let's go."

Tosami handed me a dagger.

"Portable weapon essential."

"Can this take down an anomaly?"

"Nah, suicide tool. For a clean death—so they can recover the corpse."

"Appreciate the thought. But this'll do."

I pulled my scythe from inventory.

Tosami's eyes widened.

"...Subspace storage? Neat weapon."

We headed to the pre-arranged spot. Nahee and Jang Namgyu waited, dressed in staff masks and outfits.

I eyed Jang Namgyu.

Why was a guy in a skirt?

"Jeong, bro. Don't stare. I didn't choose this."

"They usually provide gender-appropriate staff uniforms, but there was a mix-up with Namgyu's."

Nahee chuckled, while Jang Namgyu gazed awkwardly at distant mountains.

I looked to the void—the gallery. Endless alerts blaring.

We ghosts had agreed: only sound alarms for urgent warnings, not spam.

It had chimed a few times meeting Diver Mother—now nonstop.

What the hell?

He wasn't like this before—suddenly spamming shitposts. Reliable scout during searches, but now off his rocker.

Phew... nothing serious, good.

"Senior, anything off?"

"Nothing changed so far. Kinda suspicious though."

"Like what?"

"Staff and audience anomalies have increased. If shit hits the fan, it'll be tough."

Nahee handed Jang Namgyu pills from somewhere—mental pollution resistance and delirium blockers.

"No need for you, junior. Want any?"

"...I'm good."

Tosami patted her back bag.

"Just grab the bag if trouble."

"Got ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it. I'll recover it. Don't worry."

Nahee giggled creepily, wiggling fingers at the air. Wanted to poke Tosami.

'Those ears are squishy-cute.'

Women can't resist cute, and Nahee was textbook.

"Not talking to you. To Jeongchan here."

"......Getting close, huh? Good for you."

Nahee eyed Tosami, then me—wondering what I'd done.

"You two seem tight? Mind if I ask what you are?"

"Just partners. Partners who can yield escape. Yeah. That's it."

"......I see. If you ever wanna partner with me, lemme know."

"Not planning to. Don't talk unless necessary."

"......"

Nahee elbowed me.

"What'd you do? How'd you befriend a cold Ratman? They hate humans."

"No idea. For real."

"Guess I need to like anomalies too. Then I could get close to that cute Ratman?"

Nahee muttered to herself. Eyes like Ha Taewon gunning foes, Jang Yoel eyeing booze.

"Jang hyung. Hardliners all got that gleam."

"What gleam?"

"That obsessed sparkle. You know it? Guess not."

An anomaly passed opposite us. Ooh, that one's pretty cute.

"...Nah. I get it now."

Time left, and unease lingered, so we toured more of the Owl Show set.

"Senior. That door?"

"Leads to the station. No one's come back from it. Heard it opens during broadcast accidents."

The set mixed familiar and unfamiliar spots.

"That..."

"It's a person. Still alive."

Nahee hypnotized the pleading memory card begging for death. Sensory block stopped the screams.

"Better restore or kill it."

"Tried. Can't revert—new human just replaces."

"......"

Nahee wandered, quietly neutralizing memory cards.

"Seems normal."

"Isn't that good? Team leader? Why the grim face?"

"Numbers are up, but cause unknown."

Tosami spoke to pondering Nahee.

"Haven't checked there."

"That's... Raopf's waiting room. She's always there."

"Raopf's gone. Overheard other anomalies."

"Huh? How?"

Tosami's rat ears twitched silently.

"Good ears. And I go where no one does. Worth checking."

Nahee hesitated.

"Everyone who entered lost their lives. Could be traps."

"Just guard the bag. I'm going."

Tosami set down her bag. Neck cable plenty long.

I drew my scythe.

"With you?"

"Nah. Solo's fine."

Tosami slipped in and out smoothly. Cue sheet in hand.

"Blank from midway."

Post-round 1: nothing. Just "freestyle" note.

"Time's up. Junior, Tosami—back to seats. We'll handle C Team. Namgyu, grab weapons and gear with me."

Returned. Staff and audience definitely more.

One audience member looked familiar.

He staggered up, shed his robe center stage.

'Where from?'

9th-grade Lee Pyeongan from my 15th-grade exam supervision. No more drowsy—twisted, warped.

He spread arms, knelt devoutly.

"Face the moon."

Set ceiling parted. Moon rose.

Long time no see. Eyebrow pattern flipped this time.

"Huh, what's up. Body feels heavy."

Tosami glanced skyward. Instinctively, I covered her eyes.

"Don't look. It's the moon."

"...Moon? Heard of it. We're both screwed now."

Raopf reappeared.

Tentacles adorned like lovely flowers, eyes blooming vibrant blooms. Sweet scent impossible to ignore.

"Shall we restart the show?"