[This stop is Wonmang, Wonmang Station.] [The doors are on your right…] A suffocating silence settled over the ghost-story subway. I was contributing to it myself. Even though I knew this ghost story, I’m the type to get jump-scared by a video thumbnail and immediately click ‘Not Interested’. And now I was supposed to survive inside one? ‘Just kill me already…’ It would be a mercy. I didn’t even have the energy to try and make sense of what was happening. [1st Place : Simyeon Tamheomrok Real Merch Box] Something that looked like a folded note hovered in my field of vision. I could see it whether my eyes were open or closed. It looked like a piece of paper, torn from a Suchaek and folded, just fluttering in the air. Wait. No one else seemed to be seeing it. I clamped my jaw shut. Drawing attention to myself right now would be foolish. Instead, I discreetly reached out and pressed the floating paper, trying not to look too awkward. Amazingly, the paper rustled as if unfolding and dropped something small into my waiting palm. I quickly cupped my hand over it, hiding it from view. It was a simple black popsocket, unremarkable except for a golden ‘X’ symbol in the center. That single detail was enough for me to recognize it. It was from the pop-up store I’d visited right before waking up in this nightmare. One of the very items I’d bought today. With trembling hands, I picked up the popsocket. In the story, what was its function again… : C-Class item featured in <Simyeon Tamheomrok>. : When attached to a smartphone, it converts your memories of a text into a clear, organized page format. : A standard issue item for ninth-level employees at the Simyeon Wi-gi Gwalli-guk under the Ministry of Environment. ‘Displays memories as text…’ My hands shaking, I peeled the adhesive backing off the popsocket and pressed it firmly onto the back of my phone. The moment it made contact, the scattered fragments of lore I could barely recall from <Simyeon Tamheomrok> materialized on my screen, organized into crisp, clear pages. Simyeon Tamheomrok / Goedam Iyagi [Welcome to Simyeon Unsu] : A ghost story featured in <Simyeon Tamheomrok>. : Hwanmong San-eop identification code – Qterw-D-16 : An early-stage D-Class Heugam with escape conditions of extreme difficulty. A ghost story notorious for its maddening scenarios. It follows the unending torment of the Hyeonjang Tamsadae. : Tamsa Records indicate a total of up to 56 entries. ‘The merch I bought… it actually works?’ Now that I thought about it, the black merch box that had been on my lap was gone. Vanished without a trace. ‘So that box… it turned into the floating paper and gave me the item I bought?’ What kind of insane situation was this? Still, this was a huge advantage. This ghost-story universe I'd fallen into, <Simyeon Tamheomrok>... The sheer number of spin-offs and fan theories created by internet veterans was staggering. There were hundreds of them. Of course, it was impossible to recall all that lore with perfect clarity. Besides, the stories never spelled out survival methods. You had to infer the answers, which made new situations even more treacherous. ‘But if I can just check the text of everything I’ve ever read…’ If that was possible, then the first thing I needed to look at was… ‘Previous escape cases!’ I immediately scrolled down the page on my phone. My eyes scanned section ‘3.2 Tamsa Records’, and then… I found it. I had my answer. I knew which station to get off at. But there was a problem. I looked around at the others in the subway car. Eight young new hires in total, including me. The others, who had been panicking after witnessing two people dismembered alive, were slowly regaining some composure and beginning to talk amongst themselves. “That station name, Wonmang… like, the feeling of holding a grudge, right?” “Ugh, no cell service, no data… Seriously, what is going on?” How could I possibly convince these strangers to get off at the right station with me? ‘Somehow, I have to get as many people as possible to come with me.’ Was this some noble sense of duty? A sudden urge to save these extras, who I now saw as real people destined to die? Maybe a small part of me felt that, as a human being, but it wasn’t my main concern. The real reason I was so desperate was… ‘I can’t get off alone…!’ Most of these stations were death traps. (a) a station filled with eyeballs, (b) a station shrouded in Heugam, or (c) a station that’s completely upside-down? The thought alone made me break out in a cold sweat. I’d probably be reduced to a terrified, crawling mess. ‘Chances of me passing out before I reach safety? Over ninety percent…!’ No way. God, please, no. ‘I have to convince them. Somehow!’ I opened my mouth to speak, then snapped it shut. ‘Blurting out things like ‘supernatural phenomena’ or ‘Heugam’ would be idiotic,’ I thought. Who would want to believe they were trapped in a ghost story? They’d either mock me or panic even harder. ‘Slowly. I need to build trust first.’ If I could convince one or two, the others might follow out of sheer herd instinct. I scanned the car for an opening, for someone who looked lost, for any kind of connection… “Ugh… this is like something from a YouTube ghost story.” “You mentioned a ghost story?” A woman with short hair, who had seemed outwardly calm until now, gave a flustered nod. “Yeah. I, um, watch those ghost story channels sometimes, and this just feels… familiar.” “Tell me more,” I urged. “This obviously isn’t a normal situation. We should share any information we have.” “It’s not really information, just… a feeling. Everything. The lecture hall turning into a subway, and the way those people… died.” Her face paled as she remembered the horrific dismemberments. I knew the feeling. I wanted to vomit myself. Let’s just both try to forget about it, I thought. “Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to just—” “No, it’s okay. I get it. It’s hard to think straight right now.” The woman offered a weak laugh. “You seem to be handling it more rationally than anyone else here.” That’s only because you haven’t seen me pass out from terror yet, I thought. Just then, surprisingly, someone else approached us. “Um, you were sitting next to me earlier, right?” It was a man with curly hair and an innocent-looking face. Now that I thought about it, he had been in the seat next to mine back in the lecture hall. The newcomer hadn’t been part of the other scattered conversations. He rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze shifting between me and the woman, before he awkwardly extended a hand. “My name is Baek Saheon.”

Chapter 4: The Key to Survival