The Hospital That Hunts Humans (1)
Ten days ago.
In other words, right after I'd clawed my way out of the Railroad Station with a Blaring Siren.
Naturally, I had a lot of questions.
So before the video training, I'd cornered Ponytail and fired them off one by one.
"Roughly how many people get pulled into special zones every year?"
"That information cannot be disclosed."
"And how many of them come out alive?"
"That information cannot be disclosed."
"Can someone who's already been dragged into a special zone once get dragged in again?"
"That information cannot be disclosed."
Not a single straight answer out of her.
"Then, about special zones—"
"Mr. Seo Do-woon."
Apparently my barrage of questions had gotten on her nerves, because she fixed me with a severe look and said,
"Civilian entry into special zones is an extremely rare phenomenon, and the probability of it recurring in the same individual is so negligible it can be safely ignored. In short, what you experienced will never happen again in your life, Mr. Seo Do-woon. I would advise you to put it out of your mind entirely and focus on returning to your normal routine."
Two sentences. Two sentences, and somehow she'd managed to be that condescending.
Her personality was frankly astonishing, but I'll admit—the point she'd hammered home was one I liked.
It will never happen again in your life.
Ponytail had declared it without a shred of doubt, and I had believed her with every fiber of my being.
And that belief? All of ten days old.
And then, today.
I woke up from a nap in my own home and found myself in a quiet hospital room.
Brightness flooded the space—it seemed to be the middle of the day.
The beds in the ward were pristine, without a trace of use.
And I was completely alone.
Ahaha. So special management zones aren't just railroad stations, huh?
No—wait. Hold on.
Even in this situation, I don't have to jump to conclusions just yet, do I?
They said someone who's already been taken once can't be taken again, remember?
So it's still too early to presume the worst. Yes. Definitely.
Thinking positive thoughts, I looked around. A sign hanging above a hospital bed caught my eye.
And the moment I read it, a delighted little laugh slipped out of me.
Hahaha.
The instant I tried to make out the writing on the sign, pain shot through my eyes like they were being plucked out.
So this is the place, then. Hahaha.
And here I was, trying so hard to cherish my everyday life...!
SLAP!
I'd been writhing around in silence, and now I smacked my own cheek.
Insane, absolutely unhinged—but first, face reality.
Apparently I'd been dragged in again.
A place similar to the railroad station, but different.
This was, by any measure, a hospital.
Maybe because it was my second time, I wasn't nearly as disoriented as before. Just a calm, rolling wave of well, I'm screwed washing over me.
Also, last time I'd at least been properly dressed.
Right now I was barefoot.
The T-shirt and shorts I had on were thin enough for a mosquito to bite straight through.
At this level, a grazing touch would probably kill me. What was I supposed to do about that?
Find a patient gown or something and layer up?
No. Do I even know what's lying around this place?
Last time there'd been a siren that killed you just by hearing it.
So who's to say there aren't clothes here that drain your blood just by wearing them?
Okay then. What now?
The rulebook.
First priority: keep my head down and find the survival rules.
For all her high-and-mighty attitude, Ponytail did do her job properly—so there had to be a rulebook here too, right?
I started searching the hospital room I'd woken up in.
But there wasn't a single scrap of paper I could read anywhere.
Where would I even get one?
Maybe the hospital lobby, or the information desk?
I carefully opened the door of the hospital room. An empty ward corridor stretched out before me, and there I spotted a nurses' station.
In a normal inpatient ward, a nurse is stationed at the nurses' station around the clock.
Right now, even that place stood completely empty.
There might be a rulebook over there?
Hopeful, I made my way to the nurses' station.
But there was nothing readable there either.
Another bust, huh.
No, come on—do you know how much printing costs? Print up a whole stack once and scatter them around the place, why don't you!
RIIIIING—!
Just then, a phone rang out behind me.
I spun around, startled. The landline sitting on the desk was ringing.
A phone, ringing here?
Scanning frantically in case something popped out at me, I found nothing suspicious. No movement at all.
Only the phone's bell echoed through the dead, silent hospital.
I waited for it to stop, but the ringing just went on and on, endless.
Unease got the better of me, and I simply fled the spot.
Whether by coincidence or not, the moment I walked away from the phone, the ringing stopped too.
Shuddering, I kept walking—and came across another nurses' station.
And then—
RIIIIING—!
The instant I got close, a phone started ringing there too.
What is this? Is it ringing because I'm approaching?
RIIIIING—!
The bell kept wailing.
As if following the sound, my heart began to pound, thud after thud.
Stumbling, I spotted an elevator and headed for it—then froze mid-reach for the button.
Would the elevator even be safe?
Elevators are the staple ingredient of every ghost story and trap ever conceived.
RIIIIING—! RIIIIING—!
The phones rang on and on, relentless, while I hesitated.
The elevator seemed like a deeply bad idea.
Should I run for the stairs instead?
And if I ran—would the next floor have no phones?
Few places on earth have as many telephones as a hospital.
And if this ringing followed me up there too? That would be so much worse.
Torn, I ended up walking back to the nurses' station.
Glaring at the phone with my skin crawling, I gritted my teeth and picked up the receiver.
Click.
The ringing stopped.
But I couldn't bring myself to put the receiver to my ear.
So there I was, awkwardly stalling—and that's when it happened.
From the other end of the line came a voice I knew all too well.
—Mr. Seo Do-woon?
A voice so briskly businesslike it came across as outright hostile.
It was that Ponytail witch.
I hastily pressed the receiver to my ear.
And an outrageously unfair reprimand came flying at me.
—Why are you there?
"You're asking me that?"
I fired back—not because I wanted to argue, but because it was genuinely infuriating.
I barely even registered that she'd dropped into casual speech with me.
Honestly, part of me just thought, Oh thank god, she's here.
"Where is this place? What on earth is going on?"
—A special management zone. We've just confirmed your re-entry into one, Mr. Seo Do-woon.
"You said that couldn't happen!"
—It shouldn't be able to.
I clenched my teeth.
It took real, physical effort to hold back the torrent of profanity.
I had a mountain of grievances I wanted to air, but surviving came first. Getting out alive, before anything else.
"Then what am I supposed to do now? Where's the rulebook?"
—Still being drafted.
"Being drafted?"
—Mr. Seo Do-woon, a rescue team will be deployed this time. Until then, stay alive and hold out. There are matters I need to confirm with you.
"And if I have nothing to confirm... am I free to die?"
No answer. Was silence a yes?
Absurd—but I didn't even have the energy to be angry. A rescue team was coming. That part just boggled me.
—I will now read out the precautions for this zone. Can you memorize them?
"How long is it?"
—Half the length of the railroad station rules.
That was short. Suspiciously short.
Did that mean the place was less dangerous?
Or did it mean they knew so little about it that there was less to say?
Almost certainly the latter—she did say the rulebook was still being drafted.
—I will read the contents twice, for repetition. You are currently inside the special zone known as the Hospital That Hunts Humans.
Ponytail began reciting the survival rules.
The combination of the place-noun "hospital" with the modifier "that hunts humans" struck me as utterly preposterous—but I crammed her vicious little briefing into my head anyway.
The Hospital That Hunts Humans is a special zone in the form of a general hospital, stalked by the Hazard Entity known as the Moving Gun, which actively seeks out and kills human beings.
The confirmed survival methods are as follows. Refer to the instructions below to survive the Hazard Entity and seek out an escape route.
— CONTINUED —
1. Cover your face.
The Moving Gun tracks and kills anyone whose face it has seen with the highest priority.
2. Do not remain in one place for long.
The Moving Gun senses locations where humans have hidden for extended periods. The shortest time it has ever taken to detect a human is 9 minutes and 50 seconds.
3. Do not enter open areas.
The Moving Gun's effective range exceeds the straight-line distance of this entire zone.
4. If the Moving Gun approaches, hide and stop moving.
The Moving Gun judges its surroundings through sight and hearing, but suffers from both astigmatism and hearing loss; it is particularly poor at identifying any part of a human other than the face.
If the Moving Gun is close by, hide. If you cannot hide, minimize all movement. With luck, it may mistake you for an object and pass you by.
5. Use nearby cover, but account for exceptions.
As a rule, the Moving Gun's rounds do not penetrate walls.
However, certain high-powered rounds fired at regular intervals can penetrate concrete walls and floors.
The firing conditions and cycle of these rounds are currently under investigation.
6. The Moving Gun alternates between an active period and a dormant period on a 43-minute cycle.
During its 43-minute active period, it actively hunts humans; during its dormant period, it stops completely.
However, to transition from active to dormant, it must hunt at least one person.
A Moving Gun that exceeds its active cycle without a kill enters indiscriminate fire mode, which persists until at least one victim falls.
"...I don't know, this one seems more dangerous than the last one."
—It is not. The random crushing triggered by the siren at the Railroad Station was impossible to evade. But this zone's Moving Gun can be adequately countered.
Oh, is that so.
Well, I suppose that's why a rescue team was being sent.
—Entry of the rescue team is expected in approximately 70 minutes. I will now outline your survival strategy. The Moving Gun has currently ceased activity and will resume in 14 minutes.
"Which means somebody died 30 minutes ago, doesn't it?"
—Correct. Aside from you, Mr. Seo Do-woon, there are currently five other individuals present in your zone.
Then until the rescue team arrived, I just needed to team up with those people, right?
That was my obvious, natural conclusion.
But Ponytail spoke, as if she'd read my mind.
—Avoid contact with them whenever possible.
"Avoid contact?"
I asked, not understanding.
And after a brief pause, Ponytail said,
—You'll be familiar with the serious crimes that occurred at the Railroad Station.
Serious crimes at the Railroad Station.
She meant the incident where certain lunatics had killed people for money and stuffed the bodies into storage lockers.
I understood immediately what Ponytail was dancing around.
And that was exactly why a cold dread crept over me.
"Why are you bringing that up now?"
—Those criminals are in the same space as you, Mr. Seo Do-woon. Right now.
Ponytail's voice, flat and monotonous as ever.
But to me, it was nothing short of a bolt from the blue.