Tutorial (2) — “They’re Calling It a National Disaster. What’s Going On?”
My eyes caught a cluster of employees huddled together, talking in low voices right beside me.
“I think my signal’s completely dead. Is anyone else able to make a call?”
“The internet’s down too.”
Modern devices failing was, in the grand scheme of things, a minor issue. But that tiny variable caused people’s anxiety to spread like ink dissolving in water, slowly bleeding outward. Just in case, I checked the internet on my smartphone. Sure enough, just as someone had said, the screen only displayed a message that a connection was required. The familiar pages we were used to seeing refused to load.
“Is this part of the interview test or something?”
At Park Jocheol’s words, I glanced toward the remaining staff who had been preparing the orientation in the distance. It was possible there was some kind of test that a low-level employee like me simply hadn’t been told about. But my gaze landed on several executives scurrying across the stage. Their faces were filled with panic as they barked at their subordinates. I couldn’t immediately grasp what was happening, but one thing was crystal clear—this was not part of the company’s schedule.
Something’s definitely gone wrong.
I stood up to get a better grasp of the situation. Thump.
But at that moment, a sickening sensation like a vice tightening around my heart began to envelop my body.
“Hup!”
“Gah!”
“Hey, are you okay…! Kyaa!”
From the far end of the auditorium came the sound of people gasping. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. An incomprehensible pressure swept through the hall. Everyone either collapsed to the floor or doubled over. The few people in the corners barely managed to stay upright by leaning against the walls.
“Haa… haa…”
“Ugh…”
An invisible energy drenched the crowd like a sudden downpour. About ten seconds later, the crushing pressure gradually eased. The ringing in my ears faded, replaced by the murmur of voices.
“Wh-what the hell was that?”
“I have no idea… What is this…?”
People were at a loss for words. Some faces had gone deathly pale. Others were retching in corners. It was the kind of instinctive reaction that defied description. In that moment, it seemed every single person in the room felt the exact same thing.
Dread.
Then, from somewhere, a mechanical noise mixed with static rang out, and everyone fell silent at once.
Crackle. Crack.
The broadcast is starting! Everyone be quiet!
At someone’s urgent whisper, people began to listen intently. But…
…This isn’t a broadcast.
I was standing close enough to the speakers to be certain. The sound wasn’t coming from the air. It was ringing directly inside my head. Was someone speaking? Or was this even sound at all? Goosebumps erupted across my skin and the hair on my head stood on end. It wasn’t a vibration in the air—it felt like something piercing straight through my skull. And then, the static that had been swirling in my mind finally stopped.
Click.
Commencing the dimensional test for ■■■ ■■.
Confirmed personnel: 401.
Spatial coordinates: (■■■,■■■). Dispatching Helper… crackle… ■■…
Crackle—!Whoosh!
Sparks erupted in the center of the auditorium, and blue flames burst into existence in an instant. The man who had been sitting in the middle seat since the very beginning of the entrance process had the misfortune of being unable to react to the sudden blaze.
“Aaaagh!!”
“F-fire extinguisher! Get a fire extinguisher!”
People who had been watching screamed. Someone hurriedly grabbed a fire extinguisher and began spraying the man who was rolling on the ground and shrieking.
Fwoosh!
Fortunately, the flames that had caught on the man were quickly put out. That didn’t mean every flame had been extinguished, however. The fist-sized blue flames floating in mid-air slowly grew larger. When they reached roughly two meters in height, their growth finally stopped.
“Augmented reality?” someone muttered in a trembling voice.
It was an idea only possible in a game company. But a person had been burned. There was no way those threatening flames were mere graphics or holograms.
Crackle.
“Huh?”
Maybe it was because the surroundings had grown too quiet.
“Over there…”
The voice of someone pointing at the flames sounded unusually loud.
“There’s… something…”
All eyes turned toward the blue flames at once. An animal’s foot. Beneath the distorted flames, what appeared was something resembling a rabbit’s foot. But calling it a mere rabbit felt far too inadequate. Who in their right mind would call the shadow of a two-meter-tall bipedal monster a rabbit?
Tap. Tap.
A rabbit wearing a tuxedo, standing upright on two legs and holding what looked like a cheap magician’s wand. The beast, whose head was a full size taller than an average adult male, raised a hand to its mouth.
Ahem! Ahem!
With a single cough, everyone froze. But the rabbit naturally removed its hat and bowed elegantly, like a noble from medieval Europe.
The monster bore a striking resemblance to the guide from a famous British fairy tale.
The rabbit made an exaggerated clapping motion. At first glance, the sight was ridiculous, yet not a single person in the auditorium laughed. At some point, the wand had left the rabbit’s hand and was now circling above our heads.
The rabbit muttered unintelligible words to the empty air for a while. Before long, it retrieved the wand floating in the air and turned its gaze toward “us.”
Fear of the unknown was beginning to devour people’s hearts.
People held their breath, unable to tear their eyes away from the rabbit. The moment its words ended, a small holographic window appeared before my eyes.
Ding.
Tutorial #1 – Game Start
📍 Theme: Survival
📍 Difficulty: Tutorial
📍 Objective: Survive for 24 hours by any means necessary.
🎁 Reward: ■■■
⚠ Failure Penalty: Death
“……What the hell is this?”
“…A tutorial?”
Murmurs rose from all around. Although I could only see my own screen, it was clear that the same window had appeared for everyone.
“Siin, can you see this too?”
It was the man who had borrowed my phone earlier. Park Jocheol pointed at the air and asked me. Without turning my head, I simply gave a silent nod. What mattered now wasn’t what had already happened, but what was about to happen. For the moment, observing that unidentified rabbit took priority.
No matter what the rabbit rambled on about, people simply stared at it, frozen in place, unable to take any action.
Survive? From what?
There was no further information. The rabbit wasn’t particularly kind, and we weren’t brave enough to ask questions of such a monster.
After spouting a few more incomprehensible words, the rabbit casually walked back into the flames from which it had emerged. Compared to its overwhelming entrance, the exit felt strangely anticlimactic. As soon as the immediate threat vanished, people let out the breaths they had been holding and began to collapse where they stood.
“Haa… what on earth is…”
Park Jocheol, standing beside me, rubbed the back of his neck and frowned. But a moment later, he seemed to notice something strange. He stopped mid-sentence and waved his hand through the air.
“Hey… something’s changed.”
[00:01:00]
“A timer…?”
[00:00:59]
[00:00:58]
[00:00:57]
The holographic numbers were counting down by one each second. It was probably continuing from what the rabbit had mentioned earlier. Or maybe it didn’t matter. Whatever the case, with this game-like system window floating in front of me, I couldn’t just sit around waiting.
Failure Penalty: Death
That was clearly written there. Along with the instruction to survive for twenty-four hours.
“Everyone, please pay attention!”
But at that moment, a deep, resonant voice echoed through the auditorium via the speakers. All eyes turned toward the stage at the front. A middle-aged man with noticeable streaks of white in his hair stood holding a microphone, preparing to deliver a speech.
“I am Park Dongcheol, Head of Human Resources at Sky Games. We are currently investigating the situation, so please do not worry too much. For now, remain in your seats and wait—”
People generally feel anxious about things they have never experienced. In such situations, someone’s orders or requests tend to seize control of their minds like a drug. In other words—
This is insane.
It was dangerous. My instincts, honed over a lifetime of reading the room and making snap judgments, were screaming at me to leave this place immediately. With unknown events unfolding, grouping up with people I didn’t even know was nothing short of suicidal.
“Where are you going?”
The moment I took a step, Park Jocheol grabbed my arm. His eyes were serious. I couldn’t be entirely sure, but it seemed he wanted to confirm one last time whether this had anything to do with the interview.
“I’m going to the bathroom.”
“……”
“If you want to follow, then follow.”
“But that person just said to wait here…”
“Then stay here.”
My firm response made Park Jocheol’s face harden. He must have vaguely sensed that something about the current situation was off. He probably also realized how foolish and dangerous it would be to remain here.
Swish.
In the end, having made his own decision, Park Jocheol followed me without another word. Quite a few others seemed to share our thoughts; the number of people heading toward the exit kept growing far beyond what I had expected.
“Hey! I told you not to leave right now—!”
Behind us, the voice of Director Park Dongcheol rang out clearly. But there was no time to look back.
[00:00:02]
[00:00:01]
I checked the timer one last time just as I reached the door.
[00:00:00]
The moment every timer hit zero—
Flash!
The mission begins.
And with that, everyone’s timers started counting down.