I am now walking up the stairs of this nightmare school with a Disaster Management Bureau agent.

…Dragging him like a prisoner, fully restrained with the item he had handed to me moments earlier.

"…."

This is a mess.

I can't keep going like this.

It feels like I’ve crossed a line. By tomorrow, I might find myself on the Bureau’s blacklist, and who knows—if push comes to shove, they might requisition me for something under The Scales of Malice.

Sure, the company might step in to protect me, but the thought of being indebted to Dreamscape Inc. is horrifying. No way am I letting that happen!

I have to fix my image somehow.

The cold sweat on my back seemed like it would never dry.

I spoke calmly, trying to salvage the situation.

"If you swear not to scream, I’ll remove the gag. Just nod if you agree."

The agent, who had been glaring at me like he wanted me dead, paused. Then, very slowly and stiffly, he nodded.

…That’s obviously a lie.

If he was going to lie, he could at least try to make it less obvious! I sighed and pressed on.

"I have no intention of harming you or stealing classified Bureau information to report back to my company."

"…."

"And," I continued, "as I make this statement, I feel absolutely no pain."

“…!”

"I know the caramel you gave me was a truth-serum-laced interrogation tool."

The agent’s pupils trembled.

"Of course, I don’t think you had any malicious intent in giving it to me. It’s just…."

I gazed wistfully into the distance, as though lost in deep emotion.

"I wanted to show you that, even if I didn’t explicitly mention my affiliation with Dreamscape Inc., I never intended to lie…."

Strictly speaking, that was a total lie.

If it came down to it, I was ready to pop some alien-store-shipped painkillers and spin whatever survival lie was necessary. Already, a gnawing sensation of discomfort was creeping up from deep inside me.

Ugh.

It felt like my stomach was twisting itself into knots, like an ulcer flaring up.

But in this situation, composure was everything.

I can handle this. No problem.

The sharper and more intentional the lie, the greater the pain. Fortunately, what I just said was more of a vague dodge, so it barely registered as a level-one discomfort.

Endure it.

Next step: trust.

I discreetly pulled a small silver badge from my pocket, hiding my expression as I prepared to show it to him.

"This," I said, holding up the Silver Heart, "isn’t what I rely on to tell the truth."

"…."

"I’ll say it again: if you swear not to scream, I’ll remove the gag. Just nod if you agree."

The agent’s conflicted expression deepened, and as we reached the landing, he gave me the faintest of nods.

"…."

Without further comment, I removed the gag.

The agent, true to his word, did not make a scene.

Good.

On to the next step.

I handed him the confiscated flashlight and pistol.

"And this is…?"

"You’ll need protection in a place like this," I explained, loosening the restraints on his arms slightly.

Not that the pistol will do much against anything otherworldly.

Against spirits and supernatural phenomena, it’s only as effective as its specialized ammunition. I doubted either Jang Heoun or I fell into the "malicious enough to warrant effectiveness" category anyway.

Jang Heoun hasn’t done anything insane in the last three months, as far as I know.

Still, I didn’t completely free the agent. If he bolted before my charm offensive was over, it’d ruin everything. I had a plausible excuse ready.

"It’s too dangerous for you to go off alone here. I’ll keep you restrained until your judgment fully returns."

"…."

By the time we cautiously climbed the stairs, scanning the surroundings, the agent spoke up.

"Is 'Deer' your alias?"

"…."

"You Dreamscape employees operate in teams, don’t you? And use aliases derived from your masks."

"…That’s correct."

"Are you the team leader?"

"No, I’m just a rookie. This here is… my colleague."

I offered a faintly self-deprecating smile and pulled out my half-mask, fitting it over my face. Its familiar texture, like bark with small antlers growing out, pressed against my skin.

The agent stared at me, seemingly shocked.

Then Jang Heoun’s subdued voice came from behind.

"I’m sorry, Deer. I didn’t mean to put you in this position…."

"It’s fine. You must’ve been really shaken."

Compared to Baek Saheon, who was actively trying to screw me over, Jang Heoun’s little slip-up was nothing. Honestly, I’d anticipated situations like this from the moment I started pretending to be a Bureau agent.

To top it off, Jang Heoun began vouching for me to the agent.

"Deer is honestly such a kind and reliable person. When we first met, he risked his life to save me in the Darkness…."

"That’s an exaggeration," I said modestly, feigning humility. "We just helped each other survive."

"Deer…."

"…."

The agent remained silent, his expression unreadable. But at least he wasn’t trying to clock me over the head with his pistol.

"Entering the fourth floor," I announced as we reached the next landing.

[4F]

We were here.

But as we stepped onto the fourth floor…

This is unnerving.

The ghost story takes a darker turn starting from here.

For one, when students die, the announcement doesn’t play.

It’s also very dark.

Buzz…

Most of the lights were already shattered, leaving the few remaining bulbs flickering faintly.

And the bigger issue was—

"…!!"

"Ah!"

Dozens of students stood in the hallway, staring directly at us.

Damn.

The dark school corridor was lined with students, standing like mannequins on either side.

The fourth-floor students were all seniors, and every recorded exploration of this floor had reported over a hundred entities.

At first glance, it felt like a death sentence.

But.

"We’ll be fine," the agent said, his voice stiff but reassuring. "They can’t move from those spots."

Right.

The fourth floor is… strange. We never actually see these "students" move, though we can track their relocated positions.

But here on the fourth floor? They don’t budge.

It’s as if their feet are glued to the classroom floors.

Recording from the 9th Exploration Log.

As long as they don’t charge at us, we’ll be fine. Just avoid stepping into their territory.

If we need to get close, we must maintain direct eye contact to keep them frozen.

The problem is the darkness—it’s too easy to lose sight of them.

And they’re clever.

They love playing psychological games to catch us off guard.

Hmm.

I noticed Jang Heoun wearing a student name tag he’d picked up earlier and nodded thoughtfully.

"Let’s proceed carefully. We’ll investigate the fourth floor slowly and cautiously."

No one disagreed.

And so, we entered the gauntlet of students.

***

Jang Heoun swallowed hard.

This was a surreal experience.

Walking right past the "students," close enough that their uniform sleeves brushed against him, all while trembling with fear.

But he gritted his teeth and pressed on.

I have to be useful.

He couldn’t shake the guilt. He felt like he’d ruined this exploration for his reliable colleague, Kim Soleum. What had the man been trying to accomplish with that Bureau agent in tow?

Probably aiming for a high score... a clean clear?

According to the manual, the longer you survived here and the more name tags you collected, the higher the concentration of the liquid in the dream collector. But Kim Soleum hadn’t even glanced at the name tags attached to the students on the fourth floor.

...I don’t get it.

Jang Heoun decided it was best not to overthink it. Relying on his own judgment had never been his strong suit. For now, he focused on staring down the students as they got uncomfortably close, especially in areas where the lights had all shattered or were flickering. He aimed his flashlight with relentless precision.

Step, step.

“Buffalo, keep an eye on the rear.”

“Yes.”

His voice trembled slightly.

Jang Heoun turned and walked backward, casting his flashlight over the corridor they’d just traversed. Dozens of students stared back, their heads twisted unnaturally, arms outstretched toward them.

“I see the music room up ahead. Let’s push to there.”

He took another cautious step forward.

But soon, they came to a section where there was no light at all.

Hoo.

In the oppressive darkness, the students loomed, eerily still, their hollow gazes fixed on them. As they moved cautiously forward, cutting through the murky gloom with their flashlights—

Flicker.

One of the lights blinked. At first, Jang Heoun thought it was a blackout.

Wait.

Something felt wrong.

There’s no light here. What just flickered?

And then, too late, he realized.

It wasn’t the corridor’s lights that had flickered.

It was someone’s flashlight ahead of him.

Someone had lost their line of sight.

“…!”

Jang Heoun nearly turned around, but a calm voice from just behind him froze him in place.

“Don’t look back.”

“You…!”

“We need to keep moving,” Kim Soleum said, his voice uneven and labored.

And then…

That metallic tang.

Drip. Drip.

As Jang Heoun walked backward, he noticed something trailing along the floor—a dark red liquid dripping steadily.

He’d been so focused on the students that he hadn’t noticed how slippery the ground had become underfoot.

Then he saw it—a hand jutting out into the middle of the corridor, brushing against his waist.

It belonged to a student, drenched in blood that dripped steadily onto the floor.

Jang Heoun fought the urge to retch.

“D-Deer…!”

When they finally broke through the cluster of students and made it into the music room, he turned around.

Kim Soleum stood there, pale as a sheet, clutching his stomach.

And the flashlight in his hand flickered again.

With a forced smile, he said, “...Battery’s…”

Battery Life: 60 Minutes.

Of course.

Emergency flashlights were never designed to last long. Though they’d brought extras for emergencies, neither of them had thought to account for the runtime of the flashlights they were currently holding.

Ah…!

Both of them had used their backups, assuming they’d have more time.

“Wait a—ugh!”

“Don’t—don’t talk!”

Jang Heoun, holding back his nausea, tried to help Kim Soleum. The Bureau agent instinctively moved to assist as well.

Together, the Dreamscape employee and the government agent carried the injured man into the room, carefully setting him down in a corner just out of the students’ reach.

Kim Soleum leaned against the wall, pressing hard on his wound. He forced a weak smile as he looked at the two of them.

“Leave me.”

“……”

“You two should go.”

His voice was strained, but he kept a smile on his face, even as his mask—a simple deer design—shifted slightly with his labored breaths.

“Wait a moment,” he said, reaching out with his free hand to undo the agent’s restraints entirely. “Almost forgot. You can go now…”

The agent ignored him, instead fumbling in his pocket to pull out an extra name tag, which he shoved into Kim Soleum’s pocket.

But Kim Soleum shook his head weakly.

“You don’t need to. You’ll need it later.”

“…….”

“Go. There are probably others on this floor. If you find them, you can group up safely.” His voice cracked slightly as he tried to suppress a grimace. “As for me… Even if I die here, it won’t affect the company much. They’ll be satisfied with this outcome…”

“That damn company!”

The agent’s fist clenched tightly.

“Why do you people put your faith in such a disgusting organization?!”

It was as if the agent’s nerves had been struck raw.

“You really think a company that values human lives so cheaply will grant your so-called wish?”

“…”

Jang Heoun turned in surprise to look at the agent, who grit his teeth and pressed on.

“I know you’re only here because of the wish system. Do you seriously believe that ridiculous lie? That a magic potion can grant any wish?”

Kim Soleum looked up at him, his expression calm and unmoved.

“It does.”

“…….”

“If the wish system were a lie, this entire structure wouldn’t work. As long as you use it, your wish is granted. No matter what it is.”

“...Ha.”

The agent let out a frustrated sigh, as though trying to explain the same point for the thousandth time.

“Think about it. What if someone wished for world peace, and another wished for humanity’s extinction? How do you grant both of those wishes?”

Jang Heoun flinched at the sheer audacity of the question.

But Kim Soleum remained unfazed.

“It’s granted from the perspective of the wisher.”

“What does that even—”

“The wish system isn’t meant to change the world. It’s a tool for fulfilling personal desires omnipotently.”

The agent stared at him, dumbfounded, as if he couldn’t process what he’d just heard.

It almost sounded like some bizarre cult’s doctrine. But Kim Soleum’s demeanor wasn’t that of a fanatic—it was more like the resigned acceptance of someone who had repeatedly tested and proven the system’s results.

The agent looked ready to burst, but Kim Soleum simply shrugged.

“Anyway, I think this is as far as I go.”

“…!”

Blood gushed from beneath his hand, soaking through his fingers. The bleeding showed no sign of stopping.

Kim Soleum pressed the name tag back into the agent’s hand. It was smeared with blood.

The agent clenched his teeth.

“Even if you keep giving up name tags every time you’re dragged into this nightmare, that company will never save you.”

“Maybe not.”

Kim Soleum shrugged again, though he winced slightly at the motion. He forced a weak smile.

“But the Bureau might end this Darkness someday. And if they do, I’ll finally be free.”

“……!!”

The agent stared at him as though he’d been struck.

“Go,” Kim Soleum urged. “If you linger too long, it’ll get dangerous for all of us.”

Raising his still-functioning emergency flashlight, he pointed it toward the hallway outside.

“I’ll keep an eye on the corridor while you leave.”

“…….”

“Buffalo, you didn’t even do anything wrong. If you can, please stay safe and stick together for a while.”

“Deer…”

The agent hesitated for a long moment but finally turned and began walking, flashlight in hand.

“Follow me.”

“Ah…”

Jang Heoun hesitated but ultimately followed. He realized that staying wouldn’t help Kim Soleum, and leaving might actually make it easier for him to survive.

Before leaving, Jang Heoun discreetly slipped an extra name tag into Kim Soleum’s pocket.

“Deer… this is all I can give you. I don’t have anyone else to save, so… thank you.”

Without waiting for a reply, he hurried after the agent, unable to bring himself to look back.

“……”

Kim Soleum watched until they disappeared around the corner.

And then—

Got it!

The moment they were gone, he pulled a small item out of his pocket, hastily tearing off its plastic wrapper.

Inside was a large, vividly colored nostalgia candy—a red, yellow, and white striped marble of sweetness.

Emergency recovery candy.

With bloody hands, he popped the candy into his mouth and started sucking on it.

Immediately, his body began to heal.

“…!”

The wounds closed up.

The spilled blood was reabsorbed, and broken bones reset themselves as if rewinding time.

While the candy melted in his mouth:

Restoration to the most physically and mentally healthy state from the past 10 years!

It wasn’t a perfect solution, but in this dream, it was good enough.

His condition surged back to peak levels, his thoughts clearing as he stood up.

Success!

Kim Soleum let out a long sigh of relief.

He’d played his hand perfectly, seizing a rare opportunity.

Feigning death is always a winning strategy in situations like these.

He’d secured both his freedom and a positive image. The timing of the flashlight failure had been dicey, but it had worked out.

Now, rejuvenated, he stood up and stretched.

Alright.

Checking the reappearing

tattoos on his arm, he pulled out a spare, more powerful flashlight.

After taking a deep breath, Kim Soleum stepped back into the dark, eerie fourth-floor hallway, ready for whatever came next.