Faster. Faster.
“Supervisor, your previous attempt would be the 35th round, right?”
“Y-Yeah. That was the only round where we new hires were sent in.”
After a brief, urgent exchange with Supervisor Park Minseong, Kim Sol-eum quickly organized the key points in his mind.
‘The details of Supervisor Park Minseong’s experience as a participant…’
“Is this it? Is this the information we need?”
“I’m piecing it together.”
– New recruits were drafted into this exploration of darkness for the first time, leading to chaos filled with fear.
– Some used profanities and were penalized. A fight broke out over a calming pill, and both participants were penalized, including the one who consumed it.
– Seven individuals who received penalties twice came close to contamination.
– A recruit chosen as the hangman collapsed from panic midway, but the situation was too chaotic and terrifying for anyone to notice.
– One recruit fainted after being hit on the head by a falling body at the gallows and subsequently resigned.
“…”
Huh?
“And after that, recruits were never included again…”
“Wait a moment.”
“Yeah?”
“Do the bodies remain?”
Kim Sol-eum urgently looked at the supervisor.
“The ones who die as the hangman, I mean.”
“Y-Yeah? I mean, I’m not sure about decomposition or anything… their heads weren’t there, I think. It’s not like I went to the funeral and checked every detail…”
“…!!”
A chill ran down Kim Sol-eum’s spine.
This, this was….
“W-Why??”
Supervisor Park Minseong grabbed his shoulders in panic.
“Did you find a hint? Is it doable?!”
“Yes.”
Kim Sol-eum nodded quickly.
But cold sweat trickled down his neck.
‘To be honest, I can’t be certain this time either.’
It felt insane.
But, but…
The mere possibility brought an exhilarating rush of hope.
‘It’s worth trying.’
Kim Sol-eum roughly combined the necessary elements in his head.
…It seemed barely feasible.
‘With this, we might avoid breaking the rules and slip through a loophole…!’
The only problem was…
A crucial ability was needed, but it wasn’t currently available.
‘…Braun.’
He was needed again.
‘Disguise ability—how much longer before it’s usable?’
“– Hmm.”
“– Don’t I deserve at least half a day’s rest?”
Kim Sol-eum immediately rephrased his question.
‘What if the conditions change?’
“– Conditions?”
Kim Sol-eum explained the “changed conditions.”
The response shifted.
“– If that’s the case, I could do it after about an hour’s rest!”
“– It’s a grueling schedule, but… well, I’ll endure it. I’m a professional, after all!”
‘Thank you so much.’
“– Think nothing of it!”
One hour, then.
The conditions were redefined.
‘I have to buy time.’
In this chaotic mess, he had to prevent Deputy Manager Eun Hajae from fully stepping onto the gallows for the next hour.
And it wasn’t something he could do alone.
“Senior.”
“Yeah?”
“If possible, I need you to act as a distraction.”
“…?”
Kim Sol-eum quickly grabbed the “Silver Heart” from his pocket.
Then he shouted.
To the nine employees now gathered in the room, immersed in the hangman game.
“Seniors!”
“…!”
Nine pairs of eyes turned to Kim Sol-eum.
He swallowed hard.
What he needed now was…
‘…Aggro!!’
“If you could double your clear points, would you do it?”
* * *
Team D’s Deputy Manager, Eun Hajae, lifted her head.
Her neck and limbs were bound by black ropes, and she was dangling in midair after receiving her death sentence.
But oddly enough, she felt a sense of calm.
‘If this is how I go, I guess it’s not the worst.’
Aside from the fact that she was dying just before accumulating her clear points, it wasn’t all that bad compared to the bloody deaths of others before her.
“Deputy Eun!! What was the mode of transport?!”
“I told you, I don’t know! I don’t remember!”
Being dragged along with this group of morally bankrupt trolls didn’t help.
The only regret she had was that even though she wasn’t particularly cooperative, they still managed to guess the answers correctly.
That’s just how Hangman works.
“Damn it… the mode of transport she last used as a journalist? How the hell should I know? Whatever, A?”
[Correct!]
“Got it, it worked!!”
Even if they couldn’t figure out the answer from the hint, they’d eventually guess it by throwing out random letters.
_ _ _ _ A _ _ R
‘Ugh.’
Eun Hajae glanced at her missing feet, feeling a chill of death creep up her neck, though she hid it well.
She didn’t want to give the trolls the satisfaction of seeing her flinch.
[Hint for the third blank letter!]
[Why can’t Teacher Eun Hajae take planes anymore?]
Meanwhile, the two rookies from Team D were huddled in a corner, desperately discussing something.
‘What the hell are they doing?’
Even as her feet disappeared, they seemed to grit their teeth harder and argued more fervently.
Maybe they were trying to save her.
‘Not that it’ll help.’
It’d be better if they just gave up and realized there was no way out.
At least they’d feel like they tried.
‘…’
Soon, someone got the answer to the relatively easy question.
“Trauma? T!”
_ T A _ _ R
[Correct!]
Her left leg disappeared completely.
‘Goddamn it…!’
“Waaaah! I got it!”
“Damn! I should’ve gone for it first!”
The trolls cheered as if it were some kind of sport, even as they watched a human lose her legs.
Eun Hajae felt her frustration boiling into anger.
‘Maybe I should just troll along with them.’
But then, suddenly.
“Seniors.”
Someone raised a hand from beyond the group of trolls.
“If you could double your clear points, would you do it?”
‘…Roe?!’
It was him.
Team D’s Rookie—no, now officially the fastest-promoted junior—Kim Sol-eum, stood there wearing a calm expression.
“What did he say?”
“Isn’t he that guy? The one who got promoted recently?”
At that, everyone recognized him.
The newbie who had risen to supervisor in just 60 days, making waves throughout the company with his reputation.
Was it because of that reputation?
Oddly, they found themselves paying attention to him. He had an unexplainably natural presence.
And just now…
‘Did he say points…?’
“…”
In the strange atmosphere of the room, all eyes on him, Kim Sol-eum spoke.
“Would you like to make a bet?”
…??
“If you win this bet, I’ll give you all my clear points.”
“…!!”
“What?”
It was an insane bait.
“Is he nuts? Why’s he doing this?”
But at the same time, for exploration workers obsessed with the term “points,” this was an irresistible proposal.
“You’re seriously saying you’ll give us your 2,000 points?”
“Yes.”
“Uh, Supervisor Roe Deer, you must be new here and unaware… points aren’t transferable.”
“I know.”
“You do? Then why…?”
“But purchasing 2,000 points’ worth of items from the employee store and handing them over isn’t prohibited, right?”
“…!”
“If you win, you can pick whatever you want. You could even use it to get custom equipment, and I’ll pay for it on your behalf.”
The mood shifted.
After all, what could be more tempting than extra points after avoiding being the “sacrificial lamb”?
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
He was dead serious.
Of course, if they could win.
“What’s the bet?”
Kim Sol-eum folded his arms.
“Whoever guesses the most letters in the hangman puzzle wins.”
“Ah!”
“I’ll give my points to the one who guesses the most letters.”
"Is that guy crazy?"
“For reference, I’ve only gotten one right, so meeting the criteria requires getting two correct.”
“W-Wait a second!”
Team D’s Supervisor Park Minseong, who had been listening from the side, jumped up in shock.
“Roe, is there really any need to make a bet in this situation…?”
“It’s rare to find a B-Grade ghost story which is safe as long as the manual is followed. I thought this might be a good chance to see if any special phenomena occur if more answers are guessed correctly.”
Kim Sol-eum looked around at the employees with a serious expression.
“If the atmosphere starts to feel strange, please stop. I’d prefer if no one got hurt.”
“Hah.”
Some of the employees scoffed, glancing at each other, until one finally smirked and spoke.
“Oh~ how noble. You want to make a bet to add more detail to the manual and make it safer?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
Kim Sol-eum responded immediately.
“I want to help ensure that the next people who come here can clear this place a little more safely.”
“...Why?”
“No particular reason. Well… it just feels like it would be good for someone to do it, and since I can, I figured I would.”
“…”
The employee who had asked the question closed their mouth.
Somehow… it felt strange.
‘Now that I think about it, didn’t this newbie save a missing person?’
Another memory surfaced.
‘They said last time he got promoted for saving everyone else in some B-Grade darkness.’
Voluntarily searching for a missing, unliked employee for no pay, risking his life in a high-grade darkness to save employees he didn’t even know.
‘He’s not right in the head.’
Normally, they would’ve mocked him for being a pushover, but strangely, this time they couldn’t.
Tiiiing—
A clear metallic sound resonated in their mind.
Oddly enough, their thoughts became clear.
It felt like they were shedding the familiar, tainted habits and inertia they had grown used to, seeing phenomena clearly and honestly for the first time.
…And somehow, inexplicably, those foolish choices of his seemed a little… admirable.
“…”
“…”
Their mouth opened involuntarily.
“Well, fine, go ahead with your bet.”
“Oh, thank you!”
Kim Sol-eum bowed several times in gratitude toward the employees, who had grown oddly quiet, and then walked away.
“See you when I get back.”
Then, he approached Deputy Manager Eun Hajae, who had been watching the scene with her jaw hanging open, with a grave expression.
“Deputy Manager.”
Eun Hajae felt a sharp headache coming on.
‘This kid’s too nice—it’s a problem!’
Smart and capable, yet this was his fatal flaw.
‘He’s way too sincere.’
He was the type to burn out or break down. Just recently, he’d even pleaded desperately, saying an item belonged to his colleagues. Now he was pulling another foolish stunt like this…
“You, you’re seriously…”
Kim Sol-eum lowered his voice and spoke quickly.
“I’m bluffing.”
“…”
Oh.
“I just wanted to buy us some time.”
Deputy Manager Eun nearly forgot for a moment that she was about to die, then barely managed to ask back.
“…You wanted to buy time?”
“Yes.”
Huh.
“Wait, if you’re thinking of doing something during that time, don’t. That’s just begging to die—”
“What if I said I’m going to do it anyway?”
“…!”
“We’re going to do it no matter what. If you cooperate, the success rate will increase.”
This… insubordinate little punk!
Eun Hajae gritted her teeth.
“Hey. I told you I’d take care of it myself.”
“I don’t trust you. You’ve already given up. You’re ready to die.”
“…”
Perceptive little brat.
‘Good grief.’
“…It’s not like I hadn’t thought of trying something.”
In the end, Deputy Manager Eun admitted it.
She hadn’t mentioned it to avoid giving her subordinates any false hope, but—
“You know this ghost story involves the so-called ‘new teacher’ enforcing all kinds of rules on people, right? But do you know who the only exception is?”
“…”
“The Hangman.”
Deputy Manager Eun grinned.
“That’s me.”
The Hangman could swear, bang their head against the wall, and even make holes in it without punishment.
“The problem is, while I can do anything, I can’t move my body.”
She gestured toward the ropes binding her.
“But… on the flip side, it means I can do whatever I want from the neck up.”
“…!”
Of course, the odds of anything working were next to none.
Keeping her expression neutral, Deputy Manager Eun spoke casually.
“Did you hear that? Only I can keep trying at this loophole. You guys, the penalty targets, just sit tight and—”
Kim Sol-eum’s eyes gleamed.
“I’ll use that loophole to maximize our chances of survival.”
“What?”
“Please remember exactly what I’m about to say.”
Kim Sol-eum relayed the instructions for what Deputy Manager Eun needed to do clearly, concisely, and unmistakably.
And so…
“…!”
“…That’s it.”
Deputy Manager Eun felt like she’d been doused in ice water.
He was really planning to do that?
“We’ll go start preparing now. See you soon.”
“Hey!”
Wait.
“Roe!! Badger!! You brats!”
But the two were already walking out of the playroom.
“Hey! Get back here!”
* * *
‘Phew.’
The time-buying tactic seemed to have worked.
I was walking down the kindergarten’s eerily clean, colorful, and silent hallway with Supervisor Park Minseong.
‘Let’s hurry.’
Building on the testimonies from the deputy manager and the supervisor, the outline was becoming clearer. Anxiety and hope took turns wrestling for control of me.
Even so, this ghost story’s setting was terrifying.
Yet, fearless Supervisor Park kept glancing at me with a worried look until he finally asked.
“Hey, Roe. Are you sure this is okay? 2,000 points aren’t child’s play. What if someone guesses twice?”
Ah.
That?
“There’s no way they’ll make it.”
“…What?”
I smiled.
“If they’re selfish and suspicious of each other, it’s impossible.”
“Huh?”
“They’ll keep interfering whenever someone tries to guess.”
“…!!”
According to the records, the time limit per question was between 7 and 10 minutes, depending on the ghost story’s whim.
At best, they’d have to go through the process nine times.
So, the best approach was—
“They’ll waste time arguing and end up racking up penalties without even realizing it.”
And the odds of them guessing the correct answer in the end? Very slim.
‘Ultimately, they’ll just rack up penalties, contamination and delay things further.’
Moreover, once contaminated, they’d hesitate to blurt out random guesses, buying even more time.
“So it’ll take at least an hour.”
I was confident.
“And since the bet isn’t about the points themselves but the resources they can buy, it’ll be hard for them to agree to split it.”
It would be too risky to form alliances, and verbal agreements would be hard to trust.
‘The only reason I was trusted was thanks to the Silver Heart. Let’s keep that hidden.’
Determined not to give myself away, I consciously avoided thinking about my pocket and continued.
“So don’t worry. Let’s focus on saving the deputy manager first.”
“…”
Supervisor Park’s expression softened for a moment, but he quickly suppressed it, knowing time was short.
“Alright, let’s do this! Ah, we’re here.”
“Yes.”
It was time to get to work.
‘Phew.’
Together, we found a spot on the floor to sit.
It was the largest space in the kindergarten.
[Playroom]
I tried to avoid looking too closely at the scenery in front of me.
Before us was… a brightly colored ball pit and a platform decorated with flowers and butterflies.
But on that cheerful platform stood two grotesque chunks of flesh.
A left leg. A right foot.
They belonged to Deputy Manager Eun Hajae.
‘Haa.’
My hair stood on end, whether from fear, dread, or the sheer gravity of the situation.
‘The gallows.’
There was only one chance.
We had to seize it here.
Join the conversation and share your thoughts
