[What is Hangman, everyone?]

[That’s right! It’s an educational game where you guess the spelling of a word! If the letter you choose is part of the word, you’re correct! If not, wrong!]

[To make this game more engaging and educational, we’ll also provide some hints.]

The pastel tones of the TV screen and its cheerful voice clashed sharply with the grim sight of Assistant Manager Eun Ha-je dangling midair.

[Shall we begin?]

Sweat dripped down Eun’s face as he gave a wry smile. “They sure like to drag out introductions, huh? Like we don’t already know what’s coming.”

This B-grade ghost story’s real horror lay in its suffocating psychological pressure. Hours of mental torment pushed victims to the brink of despair before death finally claimed them.

This was the essence of it.

Being chosen as the Hangman effectively marked you for death.

But during the “game,” you remained alive—temporarily.

And in the meantime...

[Today’s word is a single term that best represents Assistant Manager Eun Ha-je!]

[Let’s figure out what kind of person Eun Ha-je is together!]

You were mercilessly exposed.

According to the Dark Exploration Record, all attempts to conceal the Hangman’s personal information were doomed to fail. The ghost story would pry into their life, broadcasting key moments for all to see.

Even the Hangman mechanics were warped to serve this purpose.

[This word has 8 letters!]

I lifted my gaze to the TV screen, where the blank spaces were displayed:

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Normally, players would take turns guessing random letters. Correct guesses would fill the blanks, gradually revealing the word.

But here...

“Every single letter is tied to the victim’s life.”

[Here’s a hint for the 8th letter!]

[What was Assistant Manager Eun Ha-je’s occupation four years ago?]

That’s how it worked. Guessing something related to the victim’s life made it easier to progress. To do that, however...

You needed the victim’s cooperation.

Which meant convincing—or coercing—a condemned person into sharing their secrets.

“...”

“...”

Sweat dripped from my chin.

“So, right now…”

What the hell was I doing? A plush toy in one hand, an old TV in the corner, and Assistant Manager Eun hanging in midair...

What could I even do?

“Run.”

I took a step.

“Soleum! Where are you going?!”

“There’s no time. I’ll explain later—”

“Wait, are you heading for the gallows?”

“...!”

“You know destroying it won’t help, right? You read the manual.”

“I won’t know until I try.”

I was hoping I could summon Section Chief Lee Jaheon like during the quiz show and get him to destroy the gallows. Maybe I could buy some time before it restored itself.

“Hold on.”

No time.

“Just sit down for a second. I’ve got something I want to try before it’s over.”

“...”

“I’m not just saying that. Don’t draw attention to yourself unnecessarily. You’ll only rack up penalties.”

Penalties.

“I know.”

This ghost story thrived on suffocating rules, instilling fear through strict surveillance and punishment. Every move of the “new teachers” was monitored through CCTV. Any behavior deemed unteacherly earned a penalty.

[One minute left. Teachers, raise your hands and call out a letter!]

“Assistant Manager Eun! Assistant Manager Eun!”

At that moment, the playroom door burst open, and a staff member rushed in, visibly agitated. His expression screamed frustration and panic, no doubt from searching for the victim without being able to run.

Running was prohibited here. As were swearing, destruction, and any action that broke the rules of the game.

“Damn it... Why did it have to be the room at the far end of the third floor?!” the staff member muttered angrily before shouting at Eun Ha-je.

“Hey! Assistant Manager Eun, what did you do four years ago?!”

Eun laughed bitterly.

Because...

“You son of a bitch, who gave you permission to talk down to me?”

“...!”

The Hangman, of course, was an exception to all the rules.

“W-what… why all of a sudden—?”

“I was holding back, not calling you out before, but now I’m out of points and about to die, you idiot. My mood’s already ruined.”

“Uh, uh…”

“Killed three rookies already, and you still don’t have your act together, you damn troll.”

The staff member’s face turned crimson with anger.

“Upset? Mad about it?”

“N-no…”

“You’d better hold it in. You don’t want to end up with a ‘contributionless’ penalty for failing to guess a single letter, do you?”

Eun grinned slyly, taunting him further.

“Eight blanks, remember? Play smart.”

“...”

The staff member clamped his mouth shut.

It was the only logical choice. In this ghost story, the ideal scenario where only one person dies is rare. Deviating from the rules easily results in total annihilation.

And in this Hangman game, failing to guess even one letter earns you an additional penalty during the final evaluation.

“Hey, Soleum.”

Assistant Manager Eun called to me.

When I approached, he lowered his voice so only I could hear.

“My job four years ago was journalist.”

“...”

“Soleum, you guess it. Avoid the ‘no contribution’ penalty.”

This is insane.

“Even if I refuse, nothing will change. You know that.”

“It helps my mental state,” I retorted.

“Take care of the mental state of the person about to die, would you?” he said, frowning.

“Imagine how much worse it’d feel if that idiot guessed it first.”

Damn it.

I pressed my temples and finally stepped toward the TV.

The staff member who had barged in looked at me, startled.

“W-wait, you—”

“The final letter of the word is R. It’s the initial of ‘Reporter,’ Assistant Manager Eun Ha-je’s former job.”

Static—

[Correct!]

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

The screen emitted a cheerful chime as it filled in a letter:

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ R

And then.

[Let’s hang the Hangman!]

“Gah…”

Assistant Manager Eun Ha-je’s body convulsed.

Hanging midair, his left foot simply disappeared—as if erased from existence.

One limb had metaphorically stepped onto the gallows.

Being designated as the Hangman meant each correct guess brought them closer to their fate, step by step, until the noose claimed them entirely.

No exceptions.

This was insanity.

“...It’s not severed, so there’s no pain. Don’t worry,” Eun said calmly.

Who wouldn’t worry?

“Well, at least it didn’t start with the neck. I can still talk,” he added with a grim chuckle.

No. This couldn’t continue.

No matter how I looked at it, his talk of a "final attempt" felt like a bluff—a desperate ploy to keep me tethered to safety.

[Here’s a hint for the 5th blank!]

[What was Assistant Manager Eun Ha-je’s last mode of transportation as a journalist?]

The staff member hesitated, grinding his teeth before cautiously addressing Eun.

“C’mon, just tell us. Hey, at least we’re—”

“At least we’re what?” Eun shot him a withering glare.

“You’ve already gotten three rookies killed, you piece of shit. You’re the one who should’ve been chosen for this.”

“Shut up! You’re the one dying, asshole!”

“Right, right. Don’t listen to the dying man,” Eun said, feigning boredom as he tilted his head mockingly.

The staff member, his face flushed with frustration, shoved past me to approach the TV.

“Transportation? That’s obvious—it’s either a bus or a subway. Fine, subway. Initial letter, S!”

[Oh dear, wrong!]

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ R

[Penalty: Please recite the educational manual for 10 minutes.]

“W-what… no…!”

With a grotesque sound, a black holographic book materialized in front of him—and then latched onto his face.

“Ahh! Aghh!”

The black book melted into his skin, leaving a branding mark on his forehead as it dissolved.

The mark read: [Chick Class]

Eun clicked his tongue in disdain. “He triggered it. What a dumbass.”

“...”

“Watch closely, Soleum. Once those penalties stack up, you don’t just die—you stay here, training to become a ‘perfect kindergarten teacher’... forever.”

That’s right.

Failing to participate properly in this game was worse than death.

“Three strikes. That’s all it takes,” Eun muttered.

Three penalties.

Enough contamination to no longer qualify as human.

Like the security chief.

But worse.

If rescue never came, they’d remain trapped in this ghost story, disappearing from the real world entirely.

“So stop doing anything stupid.”

“...”

“If you mess up, you won’t even die properly.”

A cold sweat trickled down my back.

I knew that.

The manual was clear: if I stuck to the rules, I could survive.

I’d even erased the penalty from the first guess by contributing to the word.

So why take risks?

‘It might only make things worse.’

Trying to save the Hangman had doomed countless others before. Trapped, contaminated, endlessly "educated" as a kindergarten teacher in this cursed scenario.

No exceptions.

There was no way out.

I knew that.

No matter what I did, this game had to end with the Hangman’s death.

This wasn’t one of those ghost stories where bending the rules led to clever outcomes.

‘This is different.’

This was a ghost story designed to suffocate you with the inescapable weight of its rules. It demanded conformity, turning your own desperation into a weapon against you.

Even so... there had been a faint glimmer of hope.

Braun.

He had talked his way out of this ghost story.

But I had let that moment slip away.

I should’ve interfered. Delayed the noose from passing on. Tried to communicate longer with the ghost story itself.

–Hm?

Braun’s voice, incredulous, broke my train of thought.

–Surely you’re not suggesting I should have played along with this dreary game? Me, your friend, hanging from the gallows like some grotesque parody?

...

Sigh.

“Braun. That’s not what I’m saying, and you know it.”

–Pardon?

“When you refused to participate in the game, you knew the Hangman would be reassigned. You knew I had a 1-in-12 chance of being chosen, didn’t you?”

–...!!

“And you still didn’t hesitate, did you? Even if it meant I might take the noose?”

–No! No, of course not... I mean, yes, the game has its rules, but my dear friend’s safety matters above all! Braun’s tone wavered for the first time.

He seemed torn between his dual identities: the loyal friend trying to support me, and the ghost story entity bound by its twisted logic.

I couldn’t afford to dwell on it now.

“Forget it,” I muttered. “Just don’t let it happen again.”

–Understood! Completely understood!

I wasn’t sure we truly understood each other, but there was no time to think further.

I racked my brain, combing through every scrap of information from the Dark Exploration Record and the manual for a loophole to save the Hangman.

But there was none.

Of course there wasn’t.

If there had been, I would’ve thought of it during the sleepless nights I spent preparing for this.

The Hangman always dies.

No exceptions.

“No way out…”

I clenched my teeth.

There had to be something—

“Soleum!”

A familiar voice interrupted my spiraling thoughts.

Turning, I saw another figure enter the room.

“...Supervisor Park Minseong.”

“You okay?” he asked breathlessly, before his gaze landed on Eun Ha-je.

The moment he saw the noose, his face twisted with emotions—frustration, guilt, resignation.

“You heard it on the TV already, right? Get ready to guess.”

Supervisor Park’s expression hardened.

“Don’t waste time with useless thoughts. You’ve already stacked penalties, haven’t you?”

“...”

Penalties?

“What do you mean?” I asked hesitantly.

Park leaned in, speaking quietly.

“Look, this is my second time here.”

“...!!”

“Yeah. First time was two years ago, right after I started working here. Lucky—or unlucky—me, I’m back again.”

Park forced a bitter smile.

“Last time, I tried to save the Hangman. Got hit with a penalty for it. I think... the contamination’s been building up. Who knows? There’s no precedent for it.”

He rambled on, his words scattered and unfocused. His mental state was clearly frayed.

I gripped his shoulders firmly.

“...!”

“Supervisor Park.”

He was one of the few people here with direct experience—someone who might know details I didn’t.

“Answer my questions. Quickly and accurately.”