A black holographic book hovered over Supervisor Park Minseong’s head.

The tar-like hologram clung to him, oozing down his body as he writhed and scratched at the ground.

Behind his struggling form, the TV blared once more in its falsely cheerful tone.

“[Now, let’s reveal the new teachers who failed to actively participate in the Hangman game!]”

Soon, the same grim scene repeated around the room.

The problem, the real problem was...

“[New Teacher Park Minseong, you didn’t guess a single letter correctly!]”

One penalty had already been accumulated.

One for stepping onto the platform.

And now…

One more for failing to guess a letter.

“[Penalty count: 3]”

The TV delivered its sentence.

“[New Teacher Park Minseong has been designated as the next subject for permanent education.]”

“[You’ll remain at ■■ Kindergarten, preparing to reopen, until you’ve become a perfect kindergarten teacher.]”

The black holographic books that clung to the faces of those who failed to guess letters...

Among them, Park Minseong’s turned a vivid red.

And then, it consumed his entire body.

“■!!”

His screams warped, distorted into incomprehensible noises.

“Help■, ■me, ■■■…!”

He twisted and rolled on the ground, his form grotesque and inhuman.

The words of the instructional book being recited were nonsensical, a mix of phrases and sobs colliding in a chilling cacophony.

Yet no one else paid any attention.

They glanced at him briefly, then stepped away, avoiding any association. All they did was wait for the next step in the manual.

Which was...

“[Great job with today’s practice play! Goodbye, new teachers!]”

Clear confirmed.

“…”

“Oh, thank f— finally!”

“Outta the way!”

As soon as the realization sank in that the game was over, the room exploded into activity. Swearing and running, people fled the playroom in a chaotic rush.

Even those who had endured the ten-minute penalty stumbled to their feet, spitting out tar-like holograms, clutching their foreheads, and limping out of the room.

A few even bumped into me.

“Huh?”

“…”

“What... what are you doing?”

“…”

“The door only stays open for 30 minutes! If you don’t get out now, you’ll be considered a permanent volunteer! Damn it!”

And they kept running past me.

“…”

Leaving me alone.

Alone, with the writhing, “contaminated” figure of Supervisor Park Minseong.

“–My goodness, how could anyone mistake my dear friend for a volunteer in this decrepit place? Let’s leave immediately, Soleum!”

“…No.”

“–Soleum?”

The game was over.

Which meant...

So were the rules of this ghost story.

“If the worst comes to pass, I can still make it to the door on my own in ten minutes.”

But.

“I have to at least try to take him with me.”

I could endure.

As long as I had a chance, I’d try.

I’d done it before.

‘I don’t want to give up just yet.’

It didn’t sit right with me to save the Hangman, clawing at a slim chance, only to let the person who tried to save him become a permanent part of this ghost story.

‘No way am I letting this turn into some footnote on the Hungry Hangman Wiki page.’

‘I can do this.’

I raised my head.

And reached for the tattoo on my wrist.

: 恩主 : (Benefactor)

From the glowing tattoo emerged the objects I’d stashed away: a candle-making kit, apple juice, a vampire knife, stickers, stacks of 500-won coins...

“–Oh, what intriguing items will you use this time, my friend?”

“None of them.”

“–Hmm? Then this action is...”

I packed everything into my briefcase. Without the Blood Bath, it was a tight fit, but it worked.

The vampire knife, which seemed ready to burst out of the bag, went into my back pocket instead.

‘Done.’

The briefcase was heavy, but not too much to carry while running.

Now, all that was left...

An empty tattoo space on my wrist.

“–So, you’re clearing the space for something else?”

Exactly.

I lightly placed my hand inside the tattoo’s dimensional space before pulling it back out.

“This thing has a cubic volume of 60 centimeters per side, right?”

“–Precisely.”

“But it doesn’t have to be a perfect cube, does it?”

“–...! That’s also...”

Braun’s voice carried a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“–Correct.”

Good.

‘This is all or nothing.’

Being dead would be bad enough, but becoming contaminated and trapped here forever? That was worse.

‘Let’s do this.’

I clenched my teeth and waited.

Waited for Supervisor Park Minseong’s third penalty to end.

‘Trying anything before it’s over would be stupid.’

Touching someone undergoing a penalty would invite the holographic instruction book to “graciously” include me.

That would mean ten minutes of being out of commission, reading nonsense aloud.

‘That would be the end.’

I forced myself to stay calm, to wait patiently.

‘Time until the penalty ends... seven minutes.’

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One...

Zero.

“…”

The sticky red tar-like substance that had clung to Supervisor Park dissipated.

He began to rise slowly.

His black suit was gone, replaced with beige pants, a white shirt, and a light green apron—standard attire for a kindergarten teacher.

In his hand was a brown file folder with a crimson title embossed on it.

 <■■ Affiliated Kindergarten Educational Guidebook>

The burned brand on Supervisor Park Minseong’s forehead was unmistakable.

New Sprouts Class

His face, fully revealed now that the mask had melted away, carried a gentle smile.

“Soleum Teacher!”

Shit.

“You waited for me to finish reading the instructional book? How kind of you.”

“…Of course, I had to wait.”

Don’t waver. Don’t let it show. That’ll only make things worse.

“Are you feeling all right?”

“Of course! I’ve never felt better!”

Supervisor Park Minseong nodded softly, still smiling.

“…I’m glad to hear that. Shall we head out now?”

“Head out? Oh… you mean leave?”

“Yes, let’s leave together.”

“Ah, but I don’t have a clock-out time! I’m no longer a new teacher after all—I’ve completed my instructional book!”

“But leaving…”

“There’s no leaving.”

“…”

“Hmm. It’s time for me to help prepare the New Sprouts Class for its opening…”

And then, with a bright and cheerful expression, Park Minseong called out:

“Oh, that’s right! Soleum Teacher, would you like to come with me?”

Goosebumps raced up my spine.

“You haven’t been assigned to a class yet, have you? You haven’t read the instructional book, so you don’t know your placement. But once you read it, you’ll find out—your assigned class!”

Park Minseong extended a hand toward me.

“Where will it be? It’d be nice if we were both in the New Sprouts Class. We were in the same team before, after all.”

Damn it.

Damn it!

I took a step back, as if I were considering his suggestion, allowing his outstretched hand to pass harmlessly through empty air.

“Oh…”

“Thank you for the offer, but I need to throw this out first.”

I held up my briefcase.

“There’s something I borrowed, and I need to return it before the time limit.”

“Soleum Teacher, all those interesting items you had—were they borrowed?”

“Yes.”

Please don’t notice anything.

‘Please.’

The thing that used to be Park Minseong, still brimming with that professional warmth, replied kindly.

“Should I ask someone to help carry it for you?”

“It’s just a briefcase. But if you could guide me to the entrance, that would be a great help. Maybe… Supervisor Osori could assist?”

Park Minseong froze.

“…”

Maybe.

“…Supervisor Osori?”

…

His lips parted.

“That…”

…!

But in the next instant:

“All right! I’ll come with you to the entrance.”

The teacher’s voice was calm and friendly again.

“…”

“Soleum Teacher?”

“Yes, please accompany me to the entrance. I’ll move quietly to avoid any disruption.”

“Sure!”

I turned toward the door leading out of the playroom.

Behind me followed what had fully become “Teacher” Park Minseong.

‘Breathe.’

I took slow, deliberate steps.

Tap. Tap.

Right behind me, a soft sound trailed close.

Not the hard clack of dress shoes, but the quiet shuffle of padded indoor slippers.

Tap. Tap.

“Oh, let me help carry the briefcase.”

“No, I’m—”

Before I could finish declining, the teacher’s hand gripped one side of the briefcase I was holding.

The perfect teacher’s instructional book, clutched in the same hand, lightly brushed my fingers.

Tap. Tap.

“…”

It’s fine.

The sound of a piercing thought didn’t stab into my brain, and no overwhelming fear or terror surged through me.

‘I can make it out.’

The entrance wasn’t far now.

All I had to do was walk.

But simultaneously, a thought surfaced:

‘Am I doing the right thing by sneaking out like this?’

Damn it.

Listen to me. Cursing at my own hesitation.

Is it because I haven’t read the instructional book yet? That feels… wrong.

Maybe this isn’t a punishment but an opportunity—a gift disguised as a penalty.

What if this place is a wonderful workplace? Preparing for a perfect opening with polite, compliant colleagues could be fulfilling.

I have the aptitude to be a perfect teacher.

■■ Kindergarten revealed that to me!

No.

No way.

I mocked myself. I knew full well the penalties for lying here. Efficiency demanded I let go of the entrance entirely.

That’s right.

I should voluntarily read the instructional book now. Perhaps I could even ask Teacher Park Minseong to review it together.

No.

Borrowing the book to—

No!

Stop these thoughts.

The deeper I think about it, the more it seems like a reasonable idea, but it’s not!

I focused on walking. One step at a time. The closer I got to the entrance, the clearer my goal became.

Tap, tap.

“…”

I made it.

The entrance.

Where the filthy, disorganized threshold I first saw had been replaced by a neat and polished exit—inviting enough to make me want to stay.

“Time to throw the briefcase, right?”

I gripped the briefcase firmly. Unfortunately, the instructional book that had been brushing my hand slipped free.

“Shall we toss it together?”

Please.

“Yes.”

Let this work.

“Hold onto this part right here…”

I turned my head.

The sight filled my vision: Park Minseong, smiling like the perfect teacher.

He leaned forward, reaching out to take hold of the briefcase as I had instructed.

Now.

I grabbed his head with both hands.

“…!!”

And I shoved him straight into the tattoo on my arm.

‘Get in.’

The space in my wrist’s tattoo was described as a 60-centimeter cube.

But it wasn’t a true cube—it was a flexible, amorphous space.

Meaning…

‘Enough to fit one grown adult.’

I focused upward.

Crack. Crack.

The sensation of his body resisting, joints crunching as I forced him in, sent a chill down my spine.

‘I started with the head for a reason.’

If he talked, the influence and contamination would only intensify.

I kept pressing. The tattoo’s space swallowed him steadily—ah! The instructional book touched the edge. No way was I letting that in.

Once the final foot was crammed inside…

Snap!

“…!”

Something lashed out, gripping my left forearm tightly.

A deathly pale hand, its joints rigid with tension—Park Minseong’s right hand.

“Urgh!”

Damn it!

I tried prying off each finger but couldn’t.

‘I can’t let the teacher be harmed.’

There was no telling how this ghost story would react.

‘Stay calm…!’

Barely breathing, I pulled out the vampire knife and stabbed it into my arm.

“…!”

The fingers ripped away, taking chunks of my flesh with them. The pain should have been unbearable, but adrenaline numbed me.

As the last finger was shoved into the tattoo, I bolted for the entrance.

Thud.

One final step.

“…”

I looked up.

The bright blue sky of daytime.

Behind me stood the dilapidated, abandoned private kindergarten building.

Sunlight glinted off wild grass in the outskirts of Seoul.

“…”

Clear.

I lowered my gaze.

On the ground lay Supervisor Eunhaje’s unconscious form, handless and limp.

No other employees were around. They must’ve already left.

I pulled out my phone from my pocket.

Trembling fingers pressed the predetermined sequence.

A signal.

The call connected. A voice answered on the other end.

“This is the Security Team equipment rental depot, correct?”

My dry mouth barely managed to utter the words I’d memorized.

“I need containment equipment…”

Because.

“I’ve rescued a contaminated employee.”

…

…

It was over.

I collapsed.