NoveLight ™
The agent and I stood against the wall, watching down the hallway toward Classroom 1-5, where we’d narrowly escaped.
Finally, I could see it for myself.
Flicker.
Three figures now stood in the distance.
Three?
One more than before. Two blood-soaked male students and one female student in a pristine uniform stood motionless, staring at us.
When the lights were on, they resembled disturbingly lifelike mannequins, like people frozen in a photograph.
But every time the lights went out...
Flicker.
They were closer.
Each time we moved further back, they advanced, appearing closer when the light returned.
Flicker.
Always stopping just at the edge of the emergency flashlight’s beam.
They didn’t retreat.
Flicker.
"..."
I couldn’t help but imagine the moment the flashlight’s batteries died—and what would come next.
“Damn it.”
As we crept backward cautiously, step by step, my thoughts weighed like a vice on my neck.
We didn’t stop until we reached the end of the hallway.
And then—
Ding-dong-dang-dong.
"..."
[A fatal accident has occurred in Classroom 3-2.]
Shit.
[The deceased student is Chae-ah Park, Grade 3.]
[Let us observe five seconds of silence.]
“Get ready,” the agent said, pressing his back against the wall.
[5.]
I gripped my flashlight tightly, quickly sweeping its beam across the three figures.
With every sweep, they inched closer.
[4.]
The agent and I focused the light on two of them at the same time.
...But where was the third?
[3.]
The third figure—where the hell did it go?
No matter how I swayed the flashlight, frantically scanning the edges, it was nowhere to be seen.
[2.]
Time felt like it was accelerating, driven by a rising panic.
Where was it? Where?
Ah.
I whipped the flashlight downward.
[1.]
The beam illuminated my feet—and a pale, bloodied hand mere inches away from grabbing my ankle.
It was a hand in a school uniform sleeve.
"..."
On the ground, the Sae Kwang Technical High School student was lying prone, grinning up at me.
[The moment of silence is over. May the deceased rest in peace.]
"..."
I carefully pulled my foot back.
“Goddamn it. Goddamn it!”
A second later, and I would’ve been dead.
“I’ve never even played a VR horror game, and now I’m living through this?”
Slowly, I alternated blinking each eye, ensuring that both remained open at all times. My body trembled as I took halting steps backward.
Still staring at the other two figures, the agent spoke:
“When we leave this floor, the students from this grade seem less likely to pursue us aggressively.”
I already knew that.
As long as prey remained on this floor, the chances were high they’d redirect their focus.
“Let’s head up the stairs.”
"...Up, not down to the first floor?"
“Yes. This mission requires us to reach the fifth floor, preferably the auditorium.”
Immediately, the school announcement from earlier replayed in my mind:
“Sae Kwang Technical High School students! Graduation is about to begin. Please gather in the auditorium.”
“…What’s in the auditorium?”
“We have no information. That’s why we need to investigate.”
Of course.
“The accumulated exploration logs are still in the early stages for this ghost story.”
It wasn’t as if anyone had willingly gone to the auditorium upon hearing an ominous announcement.
Even those who’d attempted to climb higher floors were likely killed by the students.
As you ascended, the entities became bolder, more unpredictable, and more intelligent hunters.
And the worst part...
"Never go to the fifth floor!! It’s better to die below—don’t you dare climb up there—"
–Final recording of the 12th Exploration Log
...was what would happen when you reached the fifth floor.
“God, I really don’t want to go…”
But I had to. That was the worst part of all.
Still, maybe I could use this moment to subtly prepare.
“Would it be alright if we paused to check the third and fourth floors on the way?” I asked.
“Why?”
“This whole setup feels like a horror game,” I said cautiously.
“…!”
“In games, finding key items is often crucial to progression.”
I continued as we carefully climbed the stairs backward.
“I don’t know, but if it were me, I’d search special rooms like the music room, science lab, or teachers’ office first. Maybe even the yearbooks or student records.”
"..."
We moved higher, putting more distance between ourselves and the figures below. With this, the flashlight beam could cover all of them at once.
The agent finally spoke:
“Our analysis team suggested something similar. They theorized this ghost story is modeled after survival horror games.”
Oh.
“They noted how the fictional high school and its monsters resemble the mechanics of avoiding enemies in such games.”
“I had the same thought.”
“But this is the first time someone has recommended searching for objects rather than focusing on avoiding the monsters or saving people.”
For some reason, his eyes gleamed with excitement. The lack of dark circles on his youthful face (thanks to our regression to high school appearances) only heightened the effect.
“Good. Let’s inspect as many spaces as possible. If other agents join us, we’ll relay the plan to them as well.”
More agents? No thanks.
But the agent seemed energized, even proposing, “Since you’re now a provisional agent, we should use code names. Do you have one in mind?”
Oh, for God’s sake.
“We usually use terms inspired by historical artifacts or non-everyday objects,” he added.
“A code name, really?”
It felt like every childhood fantasy of playing secret agent was being handed to me on a silver platter.
…Did I have a code name I’d wanted to use if I ever created a Disaster Management Bureau character for the wiki?
Yes.
But I was far too self-aware to actually say it out loud.
“…Grape. I’ll go with Grape.”
“Fruit, huh? Simple and clean. I like it.”
For a fleeting moment, I imagined what Braun might have quipped about my choice.
I miss him.
I shook off the thought of my "good friend" and pressed on.
“What should I call you?” I asked.
“My code name is Bronze.”
“Alright, Agent Bronze.”
The agent—Agent Bronze—smiled faintly, nodding in approval as though he were watching an intern succeed at a simple task.
“Why does it feel like I’ve been on the receiving end of a lot of newbie welcomes lately?”
Finally, we reached the top of the staircase. As we exited, we crouched low, ensuring no students were pursuing us from below.
At the same time, we kept a wary eye on the floor above.
And then, we arrived.
The third floor. The domain of the second-year students.
"…Quiet," Agent Bronze murmured.
The students from below had vanished from sight, and, thankfully, none emerged from the stairs above. They must have found another target… or were simply biding their time.
Still, we kept a wary eye on the stairwell as we entered the third-floor hallway.
Under the bright fluorescent lights, the corridor was unexpectedly pristine.
No blood, no mess, no corpses. No crying individuals frozen in terror, staring at students.
And, most notably, no students.
The reason became evident soon enough.
“They locked everything.”
Every classroom door was sealed, some reinforced with chains and padlocks.
“…This is definitely Dreamscape staff.”
This was straight out of our company manual:
A solid preliminary safety measure for when the students’ movements were still limited and there were enough people around to sneakily secure the classrooms.
“...”
Still, as silent as the hallway was, we couldn’t afford to make noise ourselves.
These students were attracted to sound.
“The faculty office is just around the corner.”
“Should we crawl the rest of the way?”
Agent Bronze nodded.
Through small whispers and gestures, we decided to move quietly, crouched low and pressed against the wall, avoiding detection as best as possible.
Even as we advanced, we didn’t stop checking corners and stairwells—places where something could suddenly appear without a sound.
Cold sweat soaked my back.
“Just a little further.”
Slowly.
Carefully.
We made it halfway down the hall when—
“AAAAHHHH!”
A scream echoed from the other side of the floor.
“No—”
Click.
Click-click-click-click-click-click-click.
I froze, unable to lift my head.
The padlocks rattled.
Every locked door in the hallway began to shake violently.
The students had heard the noise.
Click-click-click-click-click-click-click.
The agent and I scrambled forward in silence, crawling as fast as we could until we cleared the hallway.
Finally, we dared to look back.
Click…
The rattling stopped.
“...”
“...”
Phew.
Perhaps because the scream hadn’t repeated, the rattling doors settled down.
Still, faint silhouettes could be seen through the frosted glass windows, peering out into the hall.
“….”
My heart raced.
It was a miracle none of them were looking directly at us.
I swallowed hard and tried to focus on the one silver lining:
We had reached our first objective.
[Second-Year Faculty Office]
As we turned the corner, the faculty office came into view.
Like the classrooms, its doors were sealed with padlocks. The windows were covered with newspaper from the inside, blocking any view of the interior.
The eerie sight made me shiver, but at the same time, I couldn’t be more relieved.
"Cover me," the agent whispered.
He slipped on a thimble-like tool and inserted it into the lock.
The padlock clicked open almost effortlessly, despite the mismatched size of the keyhole and tool.
“Wow.”
Disaster Management Bureau equipment always lived up to its reputation.
“There could be students inside. Stay alert as we enter,” Agent Bronze warned.
When he opened the door—
"…!"
"…?!"
The sight before us was nothing we’d expected.
“Close the door quietly.”
“….”
“Hurry.”
I turned to shut the door behind us.
Inside, there were no students.
Instead, seven people stood in a tense standoff, glaring at each other.
On one side: high schoolers in animal masks.
On the other: high schoolers armed with translucent pistols.
Dreamscape Inc. staff versus Disaster Management Bureau agents.
They’re fighting!
And on the table between the two groups was a single fountain pen.
“An item.”
I recognized it immediately:
The Fountain Pen of Second-Year ■■■.
Both groups were clearly trying to claim it, locked in a stalemate.
“Instead of exploring the ghost story, they’re wasting resources on this nonsense?”
To make matters worse, they didn’t even notice we’d entered the room right away.
“Agent Bronze!”
A few agents perked up as they noticed him, their tense faces easing slightly.
But if Agent Bronze was as rational as he seemed, he wouldn’t have sympathized with the situation.
"Let’s join them," he said calmly.
"...???"
Wait a second—
But he’d already stepped forward to take a place among the agents.
Which left me—
“...”
—on the receiving end of some very familiar, intense stares.
From the animal-mask-wearing Dreamscape staff.
Specifically, my colleagues: Baek Saheon and Jang Heoun.
“??”
“??!”
Both of them wore identical expressions of incredulity, their eyes darting between my Disaster Management Bureau badge and translucent pistol as if to ask:
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Then Agent Bronze called out again.
“Agent Grape.”
“P-Grape?”
Agent Bronze shot a frosty glare toward the masked group.
“Mocking code names… Just like that company.”
“……???”
Kill me now.
“Come over here. It’s safer away from the door.”
"…"
What do I do?
Weighing my options rapidly, I made my decision.
“I can’t betray them.”
With slow, deliberate steps, I moved forward—
And stood by Agent Bronze’s side.
“Yes, Agent Bronze.”
Right next to him.
“This is… this is insane!” Baek Saheon sputtered.
“…”
I can’t betray myself, I thought grimly.
I can’t betray my own survival instincts.
And that’s how it ended up, my dear colleagues.
Good