Midnight Department Store - 'Black Friday' (6)

A grotesque monster sat there. Its upper body was that of a massive man dressed in the finest luxury suit. But it had no face. Where features should have been, dozens of black telephones writhed disgustingly, tangled together. And beneath the desk, where legs ought to be, a massive steel shredder roared with a deafening hum.

Father Johan muttered blankly upon hearing the voice.

"Don't we have to go through there to get upstairs?"

As he took a step forward, entranced, the people beside him grabbed him in horror.

"Father! Snap out of it! Can't you see that shredder?"

"If you go, you'll get shredded! Let's just turn back. Find another way!"

Amid the heated debate among the survivors, Kim Hyun-su spoke up in a trembling voice.

"Wait a minute. But... why are we keep heading upstairs?"

"Huh?"

"To escape, we need to go down to the first floor, right? But we've gone from the third floor, to the fourth, now the fifth... we've only been going up."

Kang Chae-young nodded at his words.

"It has felt off. We've been drawn upward, like someone pushing our backs..."

Baek Si-woo interjected with a grim expression.

"There's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠no other way."

"What? No way?"

Kim Hyun-su shot back.

"We checked on the fourth floor earlier... the escalators going down had vanished completely. Only paths leading up remained."

Baek Si-woo added with a face full of despair.

"Elevators are dead, and the emergency stairs... the doors were fused to the walls like they'd been welded shut."

"Th-then we're trapped with no escape!"

As panic spread, I stepped forward and spoke firmly.

"For now, we follow the ghost story's lead."

"What? Suho, are you sane? You want us to walk right up to that monster?"

Baek Si-woo cried out in disbelief.

I pointed calmly at the faceless monster with telephones for a face, seated at the Customer Satisfaction Center.

"As you can see, all escalators point upward, and we can't use stairs or elevators. 'Going down' was never an option for us."

"S-so what does that..."

"It means the ghost story is forcing us onto a set route. No side paths—just stick to the prepared course. Like a one-way stage in a game."

I looked around at their stunned faces and drove the point home.

"If we can't avoid it, we go all the way. We climb to the top floor as the ghost story wants, and only then will the clear condition or exit appear. That's our only shot right now."

"I shall follow our brother's will. Your judgments have been right so far. Perhaps the Lord shows us the path through you."

Father Johan crossed himself, offering steadfast trust.

Kim Hyun-su chimed in beside him.

"Me too! I'll trust you, bro. Just tell me what to do. Please, just keep us alive."

Kim Hyun-su was practically clinging to me.

'Support's going smoothly.'

So far, Kim Hyun-su and Father Johan fully trusted me. The others were still skeptical, but with no alternatives, they'd follow.

Kang Chae-young asked with worried eyes.

"Oppa... aren't you shouldering too much alone? What if something goes wrong..."

"I am ashamed."

Agent Han Jun-hyun bowed his head as he interjected.

"To leave command to a civilian... it's embarrassing."

Their heavy expectations and apologies weren't unwelcome, but I needed insurance against surprises.

"Of course, I can't guarantee I'm right."

I deliberately drew a serious line.

"But I've been caught in ghost stories multiple times before and survived by luck. I'm just going on that experience."

"..."

"So steel yourselves. If my reasoning's wrong... one of us might have to sacrifice. Ghost stories show no mercy for mistakes."

Tension etched their faces. That was enough fear. Time for hope.

I pointed to the tablet PC in Baek Si-woo's hands.

"But don't despair. As CEO Baek said, the broadcast is still live."

"Ah..."

"The Association's already aware. Elite reinforcements are probably prepping right now. But we don't know when they'll arrive, and no guarantee the ghost story leaves us alone till then."

I met each person's eyes and emphasized.

"So we endure as long as we can. Until rescue comes, we do what we must. Together, we can make it out."

"...Understood. Let's do it."

Baek Si-woo nodded resolutely. Vitality sparked in the others' eyes.

"Let's move."

We cautiously stepped into the central hall. Under the flickering red lights, the massive desk and the monster behind it loomed closer.

Whirr—clunk.

As we entered range, the dozens of telephones on the monster's face vibrated in unison.

A chilling mechanical tone. Like dozens speaking at once.

"Eek!"

"Wh-what's with that voice..."

Everyone plugged their ears in revulsion. Some dry-heaved at the sight of the telephone holes wriggling like worms.

Then it came—a voice clear only in my ear.

Satisfied customers versus defectives. Disposal.

'Aha.'

I grasped the rule. This wasn't a place to resolve complaints—it forced satisfaction. Unsatisfied customers lowered the "standards," so they had to go.

I glanced sideways at Ma Dong-pal. His judgment clouded by pain and injustice. The most ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dissatisfied person here. Perfect bait.

I muttered loud enough for him to hear.

"...Customer Satisfaction Center, huh."

Hearing me, Ma Dong-pal's unfocused eyes turned my way.

"Don't department stores usually cover injuries in-store with facility liability insurance?"

"...What?"

Ma Dong-pal looked up. Ignoring him, I continued to Baek Si-woo.

"CEO, this could be our chance. In reality, accidents in stores mean compensation claims for negligence. Medical bills, settlements—all of it."

"W-well... in this situation?"

Baek Si-woo asked awkwardly, but I pushed with conviction.

"Especially now, it'll work. It's customer rights. Protest hard, and they might treat us and reveal the exit. Loudest voice wins. Rule-based ghost ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stories follow rules to the letter."

Of course, I didn't know the real procedures. Just plausible bullshit.

But it hooked them. Baek Si-woo and the others nodded, thinking 'could work.' Desperation grasps at straws.

Especially one who bit hard.

"Treatment... compensation..."

Ma Dong-pal mumbled my words. Amid agony, nothing sweeter than those.

"Yeah... gotta get compensated for my hand. Hurt in your store. Fix it..."

"M-Ma Dong-pal? Dangerous! Just stay put..."

I reached out as if stopping him urgently. But his eyes were flipped in rage.

He shoved my hand away roughly and staggered toward the manager.

His eyes burned with injustice, fury, and desperate will to live.

Bam!

Ma Dong-pal slammed his good left hand on the desk.

"Hey! Get the manager out here!"

His roar echoed through the silent fifth floor.

The dozens of telephones on the manager's face swiveled toward him.

"My hand! Give back my wrist! I got hurt in your store! Negligence! Fix it and compensate now!"

Ma Dong-pal spat and screamed.

Then—

Screeech!

Sharp static burst from the telephones.

"Yes! Dissatisfied! My wrist got shredded—how could I be satisfied?! Compensate now!"

Ma Dong-pal grabbed a nameplate from the desk and hurled it, rampaging.

The manager's voice dropped low. Simultaneously, the shredder under the desk spun wildly faster.

Vrrrreeee!

"Wh-what...?"

Rumble!

A massive steel claw shot out from under the desk. Before Ma Dong-pal could react, it clamped his waist.

"Wh-what?! Let go! Let me go!"

Whirr!

The manager hoisted Ma Dong-pal up, dangling him over the shredder's glowing blue blades.

Ma Dong-pal's face twisted in terror, suspended in air.

"W-wait! Spare me! Aaaargh!"

As his scream erupted—

Crunch—grind!

A horrific rupture swallowed it. Bones crushed, flesh minced—the raw sounds reverberated.

From his legs up, his body sucked into the shredder like paper documents.

Plop plop.

Reddened meat chunks poured from the shredder's chute. Remains of what was a person moments ago.

"..."

Unspeakable horror enveloped us. Kim Hyun-su clamped his mouth and collapsed. Father Johan squeezed his eyes shut and turned away.

I staggered back, feigning weak legs. But inwardly, relief.

'Success.'

The biggest burden gone. Rule confirmed: complain, and die.

Then, the manager's telephones rattled, swiveling toward us.

To survive, we had to answer.

The answer sheet again. I whispered urgently to the frozen group.

"Smile. Quick."

"Huh?"

"Say you're satisfied! Or we're all shredded! Force it!"

They spasmed their lips upward.

"S-satisfied..."

"The best..."

"So... happy..."

"M-me too! Totally satisfied! Ha, haha..."

Survivors grinned madly, thumbs up. The manager's telephones chimed cheerfully.

Light flickered from the lobby corner's dead elevator hall.

Ding!

Rattle.

The golden elevator doors slid wide open.

The manager politely gestured toward the elevator.

We bolted without looking back.

"Huff, huff! Hurry! Get in!"

"Hit close! Now!"

We crammed into the elevator, panting. Baek Si-woo mashed the close button frantically.

Until ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the doors sealed, the manager bowed 90 degrees in courteous farewell.