Clothing Warehouse - 'Gazes That Love You' (4)
“You... you fucking bastards!”
Ju Se-yoon's eyes rolled back in fury. Rage exploded before fear could even take hold. How dare they kill my trainee right in front of me? He lost all reason and swung his sword wildly.
Boom! The strike, laced with sword energy, shattered a mannequin's head, sending it flying through the air. Wood splintered everywhere.
It's vulnerable! Ju Se-yoon's eyes flashed. He'd thought it was a ghost or specter, but it had a physical form. If so, he could kill it.
“Physical attacks work! Everyone, grab your weapons! Attack!” Ju Se-yoon bellowed.
But it was the worst misjudgment.
“Ugh, uwaaaah!”
“Die! Just die!”
Terror-stricken trainees fumbled for their weapons at their waists or dropped their gazes to the floor. Some squeezed their eyes shut in sheer fright.
The instant they withdrew their gazes.
Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat! Hundreds of motionless mannequins surged forward like a torrent.
“Huh?”
One trainee blinked. A mannequin clearly ten meters away was suddenly right in front of her when she opened her eyes. Its floral-patterned face filled her vision.
“Eek—!”
She blinked again.
Chomp.
“Guhk...?”
Cold wooden hands wrapped around her neck. That was the end.
“Please...!”
Crack. Not even a scream escaped.
Dozens of hands burst from the darkness, snatching two more trainees. They dragged them into the thick forest of mannequins like sinking into quicksand.
“Team leader! Team leeeader—!”
Desperate screams faded beyond the mound of clothes, then cut off abruptly.
“Huff, huff...!”
Ju Se-yoon swung his sword like a madman, smashing, slashing, stomping. But it was futile. Destroy one, and two more popped up from behind. Smash two, and four lunged at him. No end in sight.
This wasn't a fight. It was a tsunami of calamity.
No. We can't win this.
His instincts screamed. Keep fighting here, and none of them would walk out alive. B-rank pride be damned—he had to survive first.
“Run! Get the hell out!!” Ju Se-yoon roared, veins bulging.
And then, as leader, he issued the absolute worst order he never should have.
“Don't look back! Just run forward, no matter what!”
The words had barely left his mouth when Ju Se-yoon spun around. The last survivor, Oh Min-ji, sobbed as she turned to follow.
That instant.
Roooar—!
A waterfall roar erupted behind them. The moment they turned their backs, hundreds—no, thousands—of mannequins charged at breakneck speed, seals unleashed.
It was a death sprint.
Ju Se-yoon ran like hell. But Oh Min-ji lagged behind. Her legs buckled from terror, and hard footsteps closed in right on her heels.
Swish.
“Kyaaak!”
Oh Min-ji screamed. A chilly wooden finger grazed her nape, yanking her hair.
They were right behind her.
“Instructor! Come with me! Please...!”
She reached out, sobbing. Ju Se-yoon's back was visible ahead. But he didn't look back.
“Please! Instructooor—!”
Her pleas hammered his ears, but Ju Se-yoon clenched his teeth and stared straight ahead. Stop, and die. Look back, and die.
For his own survival, he utterly ignored her.
Moments later.
Thud!
Something heavy toppled.
“No, no! Stay away! No, I don't want—!”
Crunch!
A gruesome tearing sound cut her scream short. Gnashing and snapping echoed from behind, but Ju Se-yoon plugged his ears and bolted into the darkness.
**
“Huff, huff, heuk...!”
His lungs felt like they were ripping apart. Ju Se-yoon crawled up the clothing mound on all fours like a beast. But it was a dead end. A massive mountain of discarded clothes piled to the ceiling. Nowhere left to go.
Behind him, footsteps poured like a waterfall.
Tat-tat-tat-tat! Thousands of hard soles pounding the floor.
In utter despair, but for survival, he whipped around.
Tap!
The sounds stopped as if by magic.
Ju Se-yoon flicked on his trembling flashlight. The beam sliced through the dark, illuminating ahead.
“...Eek.”
He forgot to breathe. Right in front of him. Less than a meter away stood a white wall.
No, not a wall. Mannequins. Hundreds, thousands stacked atop one another, crushing bodies, climbing shoulders—a colossal wave frozen just before crashing down.
The front row bore familiar clothes. Trainees' torn shirts, blood-soaked jackets. Some still dripped fresh red blood over floral faces, smiling brightly in grotesque bliss. That eerie grin filled his sight.
“Stay back...! Stay the fuck back!!”
Ju Se-yoon screamed, aiming his sword. Terror shrank his pupils.
As he glared, flashlight steady, the mannequins didn't twitch. Perfectly still, like taxidermied statues.
But he couldn't stop biology. Sweat trickled from his brow, down his lashes, stinging his eye.
Reflexively, his eyelids fluttered shut, then open. Less than a second.
Flash!
“......!”
It moved. The front mannequin, a meter away, was now just thirty centimeters closer.
“Eyes...? They don't move if I'm looking?”
Ju Se-yoon muttered through chattering lips. He'd cracked the rule. These monsters froze under a gaze. The sole law of survival—and the space's cruelest curse.
Humans can't keep eyes open forever. His were already dry, screaming, blurred by fear-tears and sweat.
Close them, and die. But keeping them open was agony.
He realized: This wasn't battle. Endless torture until he withered away.
**
How much time passed? Mere minutes, or seconds. To Ju Se-yoon, it felt eternal.
His eyes burned, gritty. Tears streamed endlessly, clouding his vision, but he couldn't wipe them. Cover his eyes, and they'd swarm.
But he was at his limit. Body and mind.
The mannequins just stared down. Thousands of gazes. Smooth, eyeless faces smeared in blood seemed to mock and condemn him.
Hallucinations began.
Team leader...
Save us...
Why'd you abandon us?
Dead trainees' screams. Crunching bones, ripping flesh haunted his ears.
Guilt and terror gnawed his sanity.
What did I do wrong? I just...
Injustice burned. He'd thought himself a hidden piece, striking it rich to live large.
Why suffer here, threatened by wooden dolls?
No. Can't hold out.
Eyelids drooped like lead. Eyes closing against his will.
He knew: The moment they shut, hundreds of wooden hands would tear him apart alive. Worse than Oh Min-ji.
Better end it himself than endure that horror. His final choice.
Ju Se-yoon gripped his sword reverse, blade to his throat, hands shaking.
“You're too disgusting... I won't look, you shits.”
He squeezed his eyes shut.
Rumble—!
Thousands surged.
But before the sound reached.
Slash!
The sharp blade sliced his carotid, down to bone. No scream.
Arterial blood sprayed onto the nearest mannequin's face.
Bathed in red, it still smiled.
**
The screen showed a blood-soaked hellscape. Nothing moved. Blood-drenched mannequins stood guard over corpses.
“......”
“......”
Heavy silence filled the cave. I clamped my mouth, fighting dry heaves. Stomach churning, limbs icing over.
Insane. Worse than any horror flick!
Vivid death streamed live: cracking bones, bursting screams, final despair. Pure torment to watch.
Knowing I sold the ghost story that caused it? Chills.
Glancing aside, Hob Goblin looked rough too, stroking his jaw with trembling hands.
“Th-that... really a D-rank ghost story?”
“......Yes.”
“Scary stuff. Thank gods it's hunters, not our tribe.”
Hob Goblin swallowed hard. Even monsters cowered before raw terror.
“Whew...”
I took deep breaths, steadying my shaky voice.
“You saw it? The effect's guaranteed.”
“Guaranteed! Worth every coin! Outstanding!”
The Hob Goblin grunted, his eyes narrowing as the tension eased. He eyed me intently.
“But merchant. You're sure you aren't with the Demon Realm Merchantry?”
Again. I'd wondered too.
“What's the Demon Realm Merchantry? You've asked nonstop.”
“You really don't know? The only place monsters trade.”
“Monsters trade?”
“Yep. No one knows who made it, but it's been there since dungeons appeared.”
Hob Goblin explained.
“Monsters from countless dimensions buy and sell there. Weapons, food, slaves, info—everything. A talented merchant like you could rake it in.”
Intriguing. Like human hunter markets, monsters had their black market.
“But trading needs money, right? Not many monsters hoard gold like you.”
Hob Goblin smirked.
“Gold works, but there's something better.”
“What?”
“Points.”
“Points?”
“Yeah. Kill or repel dungeon invaders, and the dungeon settles points.”
He pointed at the screen's corpses.
“Hunters wiped? I get massive points. Use 'em to spawn new goblins or cash out for gold.”
“......!”
Like a punch to the head. Kill hunters for points, recruit troops or earn cash. Pure defense game.
“Those gold coins you had...”
“Mostly from points off dead hunters. Side gigs pay nice too.”
“Side gigs?”
“Their gear and bodies.”
Hob Goblin licked his lips greedily.
“Human weapons and armor fetch good prices at the Demon Realm Merchantry. Bodies too—necromancers and undead go nuts.”
“...”
Stomach lurched again. Trading corpses? Beyond human logic.
But my merchant instincts stirred. Opportunity. Monster economy, not hunter systems. If I could enter?
“Interested?”
Hob Goblin grinned slyly.
“Very.”
I suppressed the nausea. Money meant diving into hell if needed.
“Wanna check the Demon Realm Merchantry now?”
“Can I?”
“Sure. Merchants are always welcome. Sell their gear—nice profit.”
He nodded at the screen's weapons. Gleaming blades, mana-runed armor. No mass-produced junk.
Looks pricey. Sell that? Felt like gaining years to my life.
“One issue.”
“What?”
“I'm human. Can a human just walk into the Demon Realm Merchantry?”
Hob Goblin blinked blankly, then tilted his head.
“...You're human?”
“Yes?”
I gaped, dumbfounded.
“Then what'd you think I was this whole deal?”
“Demon, obviously. Fluent goblin tongue, peddling horror like that? No human. Figured high demon in human skin.”
“......”
Compliment or insult? Hob Goblin coughed awkwardly.
The Demon Realm Merchantry needs a 'pass' and strict entry checks.”
“Pass? Just give me one.”
“Well...”
His swagger vanished, eyes dropping.
“Sadly... I don't carry spares. Not a prime client.”
“...Ah.”
“My rank barely gets me in. Bringing guests? VIP only.”
Hob Goblin's shoulders slumped. D-rank boss woes. Low tier sucks everywhere.
“Can't go then?”
“No, there's a way.”
He perked up.
“If we can't go, make 'em come.”
“Make 'em?”
“Summon a Demon Realm merchant here. I can call one.”
“Now?”
“Yep. Wait.”
He rummaged at his waist. Into his beast-skin undies.
No way.
My dread hit true. From the grimy depths, a crumpled yellowed paper.
“Here.”
“Ugh...”
I recoiled. Sour, musty stench wafted. Summon scroll? Or trash?
Hob Goblin ignored me, slapping it down.
“Come out!”
Pop!
Smoke billowed with a cheery bang, sulfur stinging my nose. I fanned it, squinting.
“Cough, cough. What?”
Smoke cleared, revealing a figure. Human-sized, pitch-black robe hooding head to toe. Face below? Not human. Snow-white fur, slit yellow eyes, massive curled horns. Goat-headed demon, looking pissed.
It brushed its robe, snapping irritably at Hob Goblin.
“Why'd you summon me? Hob Goblin.”