A Classroom Bathed in Light in the Midst of a Ghost Story

"Die! Die!"

Behind me, people were frantically attacking the unmoving, eerie student figure with all their strength.

“Let’s wait until they pass by,” muttered the government agent beside me, his sharp eyes filled with both caution and disdain as he watched the masked company staff members stride through the hallway.

And there I was, caught in the middle—alone, without timing or allies.

I needed to clear this nightmare of a ghost story safely while maintaining the appearance of a cooperative, innocent civilian in front of this agent.

But in truth, I was exactly the kind of person he loathed—a pharmaceutical company employee.

“...”

How much harder could this get?

“This is insane.”

The staff members passed by, and though a few of them made brief eye contact with me, they didn’t stop or acknowledge me before walking on. For that, I was thankful.

And then—

Flicker.

The lights went out again.

“Eek!”

But this time, the people were faster than the darkness.

“It’s not moving!”

“Alright!”

I took a deep breath, preparing for the lights to return.

When they flickered back on, the Sae Kwang Technical High School student that had been standing motionless by the back door was now sprawled on the ground.

“Waaahhh!”

The frenzied assault had worked—this time, the figure hadn’t moved even when the lights went out.

Instead, it seemed to have collapsed under the accumulated blows, lying on the ground as if dead.

But even so, its right hand remained stretched toward the back door, fingers stiffly pointing into the air.

“...”

The group cheered, their makeshift weapons of bloodstained mop handles and chairs held aloft in triumph.

“It worked! This is the way!”

“...”

We needed to run.

When one student entity falls into a state resembling biological death, it summons every nearby entity to its location.

Ding-dong-dang-dong.

[There has been a fatal accident in Class 1-5.]

“What...?”

A school announcement echoed through the air.

Unlike the earlier cheerful tone, the voice was heavy and somber, accompanied by the slow cadence of a funeral march.

“Now.”

The agent poked my back.

“Let’s move.”

[The deceased student is Lee Wonyul of Class 1-5.]

I immediately dashed out of the room, taking in as much of the hallway’s layout as possible, searching for essentials.

“Should we stick to the wall?”

“Correct.”

[Let us observe five seconds of silence.]

The agent pressed firmly on my shoulder, urging me to sit with my back against the wall.

And then—

Thud.

The lights went out.

[5.]

The slow creak of the back door opening echoed faintly through the music.

[4.]

“Ahhh!”

“No! Ahhhck!”

[3.]

Screams rang out, sharp and brief.

[2.]

"Save..."

"...Hrk."

[1.]

...

...

Silence.

The funeral march continued.

[The moment of silence is over. May the deceased rest in peace.]

Forcing myself to raise my trembling head, I glanced into the classroom.

You have to look.

Flicker.

When the lights came back, the scene inside the classroom was absolute chaos.

Blood and gore were splattered across the floor, walls, and desks. Bodies were twisted and crumpled, some embedded in the walls, others strewn across the floor like broken dolls.

“...Hah.”

Among the carnage, only two figures stood upright.

The Sae Kwang Technical High School students.

One was standing on top of a corpse, its neck twisted unnaturally, while the other stood at the front door, gripping it and staring directly at me.

“...”

They noticed me.

“Damn it.”

A bead of sweat dripped down my chin.

“Excuse me, I’ll slowly back away while keeping the classroom in view.”

“...”

The agent gave a slight nod.

Still watching the figures, I groped along the wall to retreat.

The reason we had chosen this part of the hallway—

[Emergency Lighting]

A red emergency flashlight was mounted nearby.

A portable light source that could immobilize the students even during a blackout.

“This is absolutely essential.”

Originally, three flashlights were supposed to be installed here, but only one remained.

“The staff must’ve taken the others.”

It was impressive, really. Even Baek Saheon, who was among the staff, had refrained from taking all three for spares, though I wouldn’t have been surprised. They’d even jammed paper into the dispenser’s alarm sensor to disable any sound when removing the flashlight—a seasoned explorer’s touch.

A single sheet of paper had been left in one of the empty slots.

“Of course they thought of that.”

I grabbed the paper, and as I reached for the flashlight, I noticed the writing scrawled on the back of the folded sheet.

-Debt

“...”

Typical.

Crushing the note in my hand, I shoved it back into the sensor slot and removed the flashlight.

“Phew.”

With this, I was somewhat prepared for the next blackout.

“Now, the next step...”

“…! Did you retrieve the flashlight?”

“Yes.”

“...Excellent. Keep it on. Now, let’s collect the name tags.”

Without hesitation, the agent strode toward the front door of the classroom, stopping right in front of the figure staring at me.

“Hoo... Hoo...”

Just watching made my heart race, every instinct screaming danger.

But the agent moved swiftly, ripping the name tag from the figure’s chest.

Then, he turned and went to retrieve the name tag from the first fallen figure near the back door.

“...”

“This is irreparable.”

If a student figure sees you stealing their name tag, they’ll hunt you down until you’re dead.

Though, to be fair, being noticed by them at all already sealed your fate.

“We’re definitely being pursued now.”

Even with the flashlight, navigating this nightmarish school with two entities after us was suicidal for an ordinary person.

But for a Disaster Management Bureau agent with proper equipment and backup, it was calculated risk-taking.

“I’d have done it differently, but…”

At this point, the decision was made.

More importantly, between dying in this ghost story and having my true identity exposed to the agent, the latter was far worse. Death would just be a side effect—exposure would mean being thoroughly investigated afterward.

“For now, I have no choice but to trust his judgment.”

Still, I couldn’t let myself be deadweight.

“If we’re doing this, let’s do it right.”

As the agent moved, I approached the back door figure. Reaching out, I grabbed the name tag from its chest.

“Ughhh!”

The sensation made my skin crawl. The student figure, frozen in place, felt as though it might turn and crush my head at any moment.

But nothing happened.

I succeeded.

“Phew.”

Just as I finished, I heard a weak voice.

“P-please... help me...”

“...”

I realized that the figure standing on the corpse wasn’t just stepping on a body—it was standing on someone who was still alive.

Underneath, someone wept silently, too weak to scream or fight back.

“Please…”

Their faint whisper reached my ears.

“...”

After a brief but fierce internal debate, I made a decision.

...

“…! Sniff, huff... Y-yes…”

Though I couldn’t look directly at them, as all my focus was on the figure, I was sure the person beneath the figure nodded faintly in response to my actions.

“...”

Slowly, I retreated and rejoined the agent. We stepped out into the hallway and began moving swiftly.

“Keep your eyes forward. I’ll watch the classroom.”

“…Understood.”

The agent turned on his flashlight and kept it trained on the figure near the front door, ensuring it didn’t move.

Meanwhile, I stayed vigilant, scanning ahead to immobilize any new figures that might appear.

Our movements were quick, silent, and desperate.

As we distanced ourselves from the classroom, leaving the two figures behind, the agent muttered, puzzled.

“Why aren’t they following us? Unless…”

I felt his unease radiating through our shared pace.

“…There’s someone alive inside, keeping them in sight?”

“Yes.”

The agent sighed deeply.

“They must be too injured to move. You made the right call. In disasters, securing your own safety comes first, then helping others.”

“…”

“Let’s head for the staircase. We’ll stop by the fire hydrant.”

“Yes.”

I took another step forward.

Flicker.

...The lights went out again.

“I have the flashlight trained on them,” the agent said calmly.

“Yes,” I replied, my focus unbroken as I kept walking forward.

But then it hit me.

In that brief blackout, the person I had handed the name tag to… had died.

They’re coming.

The two student entities in the classroom were undoubtedly now making their way out into the hallway.

But I couldn’t turn around to confirm it—I had to keep my eyes on the path ahead, a maddening pressure gnawing at my nerves.

“Don’t panic,” the agent reassured. “We still have a chance.”

“...”

“You retrieved the name tag earlier, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Then you can kill yourself now.”

I nearly stumbled over my own feet.

“Let’s do it as soon as we stop at the next emergency light. You look pale—it’s better to wake up from the nightmare sooner rather than later. With the name tag, it’ll be fine.”

“…Um.”

I swallowed hard and forced myself to speak.

“I did retrieve the name tag, but I don’t have it with me anymore.”

“...!”

“I gave it to the person who was still alive in the classroom.”

That’s right. Earlier, I had deliberately dropped the name tag on the floor, just within reach of the person trapped under the student entity.

“If you hold onto this, you’ll wake up from the dream.”

“...! S-sniff… Okay…”

“They have the name tag now. They’ll wake up safely,” I explained.

And in doing so, they also bought us time.

The agent inhaled sharply, his breath tinged with frustration and fatigue. When he spoke, his voice was colder, more matter-of-fact.

“…So, you assumed I had a spare name tag?”

“No, I didn’t. You don’t need to give it to me. That’s yours—it’s something you retrieved yourself.”

“...”

“You’ll need that name tag for your colleagues, won’t you?”

“...That’s not…”

Of course, I wasn’t saying this because I was an altruistic fool.

I’m fine without it.

Why?

Because I never planned to kill myself with a name tag anyway.

Exploration Log #13.

The log I had written, the very one I was relying on to escape this nightmare, was based on an account where the explorer hadn’t obtained a name tag.

I’d analyzed this ghost story thoroughly, considering every variable, before concluding:

“There’s a way to clear this ghost story without physically dying or using a name tag—provided you perform a specific action.”

This wasn’t just a safe escape method. It also yielded the highest-grade Dream Essence, making it the optimal strategy.

“I have to do it.”

If I wanted to keep my standing in Team D—or even prove myself in this entirely new situation—I needed to achieve similar results.

“You do realize what happens if you die without a name tag, don’t you?”

I nodded.

“You’ll be dragged back here every time you sleep on a new moon, with no memory of it afterward. You won’t even know how to prepare.”

“...”

“Can you handle that?”

Probably not. But what choice did I have?

Ideally, I’d keep the name tag with me, only giving it up at the critical moment. But with this agent sticking to me, there was no way I could discreetly hold onto and discard a name tag.

That’s why I had chosen to take the risk and give it away.

“There will be another chance.”

And if there was, I’d hand it over again.

At least, as long as I was stuck with this agent.

“I’ll take care of my own escape when the time comes. Don’t worry—I won’t ask you for another name tag.”

“...”

And now, I figured it was time to try something else.

With a tone that suggested I had reached a resolution, I continued.

“…I think we should split up.”

“…!”

“If you’d like, I can give you my flashlight as well.”

I have a stronger one stashed away anyway.

I’d packed several items, including tools for emergencies, but I couldn’t use them while pretending to be a helpless civilian. I needed to part ways with this agent.

Sure, traveling alone was terrifying, but staying like this—tethered, restricted—wasn’t viable.

I needed to join a group, even if it was company staff.

This ghost story was strange. The more eyes you had, the safer you were. But the noisier the group, the more dangerous it became.

“I need to form a party of four.”

With my identity as a Dreamscape Inc. employee, staying with the agent wasn’t an option.

I needed a space where I could act freely.

“Honestly, I think I’ll just get in your way. I’ll figure out something on my own,” I added, hoping he’d take the bait and let me go.

But his response was entirely unexpected.

“…I’ve reevaluated the situation.”

“…?”

The agent’s expression hardened with determination.

“I was originally planning to conduct a mercy killing the moment you retrieved a name tag.”

What?!

This psycho…

Even knowing that dying in the ghost story would wake someone up, hearing such a statement delivered so matter-of-factly made cold sweat run down my back.

Forcing a smile, I replied, “Well, yeah… Self-sacrifice isn’t exactly easy, even in a dream…”

“Yes, but… if you’re willing, I’d like you to accompany me on this investigation.”

…What?

The agent spoke quickly, as if making a snap decision.

“Temporarily, you’ll act as an agent. Normally, I’d need approval from other agents for something like this, but…”

He rummaged through his belongings and handed me something.

“Take this. It’ll streamline the process.”

In my hand was a small, foil-wrapped caramel.

My eyes twitched.

Disaster Management Bureau standard-issue supplies?!

Sweet and Sour Truth

A caramel-shaped candy that compels truth-telling by causing extreme discomfort whenever the user lies.

“This is a basic truth verification procedure,” the agent explained.

No—it was borderline torture!

“If you take this and accompany me, you’ll also receive compensation.”

“….”

“If this is too difficult, I can hand you a name tag and send you back via termination.”

Oh, come on.

“Citizen?”

Without my Dream Collector tattoo in this dream-state version of my body, I couldn’t secretly stash the caramel.

After weighing my options, I resigned myself.

“…Alright.”

I bit into the caramel. It was sour, sweet, and oddly pleasant, but the taste stuck in my throat like a lump as I swallowed.

“If I’m caught ditching or faking this, it’ll be worse.”

“Swallowed,” I confirmed, holding back tears.

But they say the stick comes with a carrot.

Unexpected rewards began piling up.

“Good. Now, take this.”

“…??”

He handed me something else: a metallic badge resembling a silver heart.

Huh?

“This is an agent identification badge. Wear it, and other agents will assist you.”

“…”

“And this.”

Barely had I affixed the badge when he handed me a small, ivory pistol.

Its translucent cylinder gleamed with multicolored glass beads, clearly no ordinary weapon.

Glass Palm Gun

A compact pistol developed by the Disaster Management Bureau. Equipped with special glass bead rounds designed for exorcism.

“This is a weapon designed for supernatural disasters. It should work on the ‘students.’ Keep it with you.”

“…”

Wow.

This was the Disaster Management Bureau’s signature equipment set—the kind I’d only seen on the wiki.

It was the agent equivalent of Dreamscape Inc.’s Dream Collector and mask.

“I can’t believe I’m wearing this.”

Now I wasn’t just pretending—I was officially playing the role of an agent.

“What is even happening right now?”

It was almost exciting… and deeply unsettling.

But there was no time to dwell.

“…It’s starting,” the agent said.

Flicker.

“We’re nearing the end of the hallway. From here on, keep your flashlight steady.”

“…”

I adjusted my grip on the unfamiliar pistol.

They were coming.