HACKED 12

Just when exactly did it close? I didn’t know. Since it had opened automatically and silently without any sign, it seemed it had done the same while closing, but I must have failed to notice because I was distracted by the gruesome sight in front of me.

‘Let’s stay calm. I just need to do exactly what I did before. Place my hand on the panel, unlock it, and open the door. Open the door and leave immediately. I just need to get out. There’s no problem. I just saw two corpses of unknown identity…’

I struggled to settle my breath, which kept trying to quicken. I adjusted my arm and tucked Chirpy—who had half-slid down—back firmly under my side.

It was just as I turned halfway to place my hand on the panel.

Squish.

…Squish?

A space where only two corpses and I existed. I heard a sound that couldn’t possibly be heard from over there… a sound that should not be heard.

Did I hear wrong?

That couldn’t be. This space was too silent. It was an environment where it was impossible to mishear even if I wanted to. My raised hand stopped in an awkward position. I slowly rolled my eyes to look over there.

I used to feel frustrated whenever I watched horror movies. Why did the protagonists insist on looking back even when they knew something terrible was waiting for them? But after experiencing it myself, I think I understand. I couldn’t not look back.

The sight I saw upon turning was the same. Dull, dark liquid splattered everywhere as if there had been a terrorist attack. Two mutilated corpses fallen in the midst of it. Nothing had changed from before.

Then what was that sound just now? Maybe I really did hear wrong…

…No. It wasn’t. There was one thing I hadn’t checked.

Not the side where the head was completely crushed, but the other side. The other corpse, which I hadn’t managed to examine yet, turned only its head while still lying on the floor…

“……”

Between strands of black hair matted with rotten blood, eyes of an unnervingly bright yellow color were staring intently at me.

I stood rooted to the spot, never taking my eyes off the corpse in front of me. Like a ghost in a horror movie that creeps closer every time you look away and look back, I felt like something very bad would happen to me if I took my eyes off that corpse for even a second.

In truth, I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. The moment our eyes met, I stayed still as if my entire body were captivated by those bright yellow eyes.

Following survival instincts, I played an untimely game of ‘The Hibiscus Flowers Have Bloomed’, but I don’t know if this was a good decision or not.

Crack… Slither.

Because right before my eyes, the corpse began to move slowly. Accompanying a sound like rotting fruit pulp being peeled off the bottom of a fruit crate.

Joints that must have been stagnant in one place for a very long time—longer than I could imagine—moved forcibly. Clothes so soaked in blood that their original color was unrecognizable grew taut as the muscles inside them defied gravity. Clumps of blood that were beyond decayed and had turned into congealed masses stretched stickily.

‘Life is returning to that guy’s body…’

It wasn’t exactly what you’d call “life,” but anyway.

Did the genre of this game change to zombie survival without me knowing? Should I have found a lead pipe or a wooden club and finished smashing that guy’s head too?

‘Unnamed corpse, did you get up on your own even though your mom and dad didn’t wake you? Wow! Our unnamed corpse is such a diligent friend!’

…As if, damn it. All of this feels like a lie.

If I were to squeeze out any positive point from this situation, would it be that the relatively intact corpse got up instead of the one with the shattered head? At least I don’t have to see a monstrous creature that looks like a combination of a Dullahan and a zombie moving in front of me.

Thud.

As soon as I thought that, a rotten arm fell from the moving corpse’s shoulder. A thick, pitch-black liquid dangled from the tattered cross-section…

‘Ah, cancel that.’

This guy is no different from that Dullahan, just with a head still attached.

‘Has he recognized me? Or is it simply that the direction of his gaze happened to match?’

Calculating various possibilities, I stealthily moved my hand to touch the wall behind my back. It was to find the panel I had operated when coming in. Even so, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Turn my back to open an automatic door with that thing right in front of me? I might not know much, but I knew for sure that was a shortcut to a dog’s death.

Tap, tap.

“Ple, ase. Just… reach.”

Killing my presence as much as possible, I frantically fumbled at the door and wall behind me. The panel, which I thought was in a convenient location earlier, was hard to reach now that I was trying to find it by touch alone while turned away. By now, the area behind me must be a mess with the blood from my hands.

Beep.

Finally, a familiar sound rang out. It was the sound I heard when I first touched the panel. The mechanical notification sound, which I had brushed off earlier, couldn’t have been more welcome.

‘Is it done?’

Beep.

Beep.

However, the door still didn’t open.

It was the same when I entered. I had to touch ‘Yes’ three times in a row to answer questions like ‘Do you want to unlock the entrance?’ It seemed I had touched the wrong spot.

What is… this bullshit? Was the fact that the same question popped up three times earlier all for the sake of this bullshit now?

I went through several trials and errors just to find the palm-sized panel; how was I supposed to accurately press that small ‘Yes’ button? If I accidentally pressed ‘No’ next to it, the door I had almost opened would be locked again.

Beep.

‘Stop making this unnecessarily clear sound.’

This is a sealed room so silent that you could hear an ant crawling. The thoughtless, beeping notification sound was extremely irritating. If that corpse’s hearing happened to be functioning perfectly and it heard this…

― Command input failed more than 5 times; entrance control functions are restricted.

“Ah, f—, you sca…!”

You scared me. I was about to say that reflexively before I snapped to my senses and shut up. I thought this panel was touch-only, but it has a voice function too?

― Please access the central command panel to lift the restriction.

You sons of bitches. Is this some kind of public certificate? Is this an internet banking login page? You’re going to lock it because I got it wrong more than 5 times?

A password input function should be introduced to the bathrooms of the houses of the bastards who birthed this kind of concept into the world, a concept that even the devil would shake his head at. Whether they are dying because they need the bathroom or not, it should be locked without mercy if they get it wrong more than 5 times.

Earlier, the beeping sound might have been manageable if I played it right somehow. But this clear voice guidance… the volume was too loud and the sentence was too long to ignore.

“……”

The corpse, which had been hanging its head as if about to collapse at any moment, turned its body. I could tell instinctively. He clearly recognized me.

Did he just recognize me? He initiated an action. And if you’re wondering what that action was…

He slowly fumbled at the floor with his one remaining arm. Then he picked something up. It was something I hadn’t noticed until now because it was covered in blood and filth.

A long, sharp metal blade—covered in black rust, but with a handle and tassel ornament faintly visible. It was an Oriental-style long sword. Seeing that the blade wasn’t a straight line but a slightly curved arc and had a ring attached, it seemed to be the type called a Hwando.

“Ha…”

Bizarre yellow eyes that couldn’t possibly be considered human. A body that moved even though an arm was on the verge of falling off from rot. And a long sword.

I had the same thought earlier, but why am I the only one whose genre is a horror game? And a cheap indie horror game at that, one with zero logic and nothing but unnecessary cruelty, the kind that sells for 3,300 won on Stem before switching to a free game after a few months!

Normally, isn’t it a national rule that being transported into a game should be overflowing with refreshing moments rather than frustrating ones? Isn’t the “wow” factor of game transmigration stories being able to pull off the rampages you couldn’t do in reality? This is “wow” in a different sense, seriously.

Strength left my body. Thud. Chirpy, whom I had been tucking under my side until then, fell to the floor. But I couldn’t bring myself to pick him up.

‘Sorry, Chirpy. I have to worry about my own life first.’

Still, I won’t forget your sacrifice. If I successfully log out and escape from this strange world… I’ll buy at least one of your plushies from the <No Lifer> official goods store. I’ll even put it in an acrylic case and display it nicely.

I wondered who would buy such a thing when they were selling a fist-sized, dim-witted looking ball of fluff for 30,000 won, but it looks like I’m the one who’s going to buy it. Though that’s only if I can return alive.

“This is a Pantheon? * Not a Pandemonium?”

Enough. I’ve got the gist. The state of my Pantheon… I want to die from fear.

To me, being transported into a game is murder.