For a moment, I almost forgot to shake his hand. He’s a named character. ======================== Simyeon Tamheomrok / Hwanmong San-eop Baek Saheon: An employee of Hwanmong San-eop in <Simyeon Tamheomrok> Final rank – Section Chief Of these, 17 are special cases recorded in the Simyeon Baekkwa. ======================== He was an employee who had appeared multiple times in the Records. I looked up at the man, at his timid posture and mess of curly hair, and let out a quiet sigh. This guy… is Baek Saheon? He didn’t look anything like I’d imagined. Still, it was a surreal experience, standing face-to-face with a person I only knew as lines of text from a ghost story. Just then, the short-haired woman who had first brought up ghost stories extended her hand as well. “Given the situation, we might as well introduce ourselves. I’m Go Yeongeun.” It was a name I’d never heard. If I didn’t know an employee’s name, it meant one of two things. Either she had escaped one of the easier hauntings early on… Or she had died immediately. Sometimes, named employees only appeared under nicknames or code names, but they were usually so distinct in personality that you could identify them right away. A knot of unease tightened in my gut. I quickly pushed the thought aside, schooling my features into a neutral expression. The handshakes were brief. We naturally took seats on the subway bench to continue our conversation. All around us, the other passengers were beginning to fracture into small, anxious groups. “Ah, those people… looks like they’re trying to get a signal to the next car.” In this ghost story, moving between the subway cars was forbidden. As expected, they soon gave up and trudged back, signaling their failure with frustrated gestures. “What do we do? We can’t reach the car in front of us at all. And it looks like a fight is breaking out up there…” As tension and anxiety rippled through the passengers, another station announcement chimed through the car. But the name of this station carried a completely different weight. [This stop is Hwanghol. Hwanghol Station.] The murmuring crowd fell instantly silent. “Hwanghol… that sounds… good, right? Maybe this is it?” You can’t make a simple judgment like that here…! I gritted my teeth, the Tamsa Records I’d just read flashing through my mind. In this ghost story, the station names changed with every manifestation. That meant it was impossible to find a specific clue like ‘get off at this station’ or ‘this station is the answer’ in the case files to guarantee an escape. But you can identify trends. ======================== Simyeon Tamheomrok / Goedam Iyagi / Welcome to Simyeon Unsu 3.2 Tamsa Records (up to 56 entries) 1- Stations named after colors, like Red, Yellow, Blue. : Two-person escape success (Attempt: Pureun Station) 2- Stations named after body parts, like Left Arm, Cornea, Heart. : No recorded escape success (Attempt: Dalpaengigwan Station) 3- Stations named after serial killers, like ■■, ■■■■, ■■■. : Twelve-person escape success (Attempt: ■■■■ Station) 4- Stations named after years, like 2008, 2012, 2016. : No recorded escape success (Attempt: 2024 Station) 5- Stations named after illnesses, like Asthma, Stroke, Glaucoma. : Three-person escape success (Attempt: Gamgi Station) ======================== Even after fifty-six recorded attempts, there was no correlation between a station’s positive-sounding name and the likelihood of escape. But the passengers were already preparing to get off at Hwanghol Station en masse. [The doors are on your left…] Making matters worse, the platform that slid into view was alarmingly bright and inviting. It looked pristine, like a brand-new station in a freshly developed city. I could feel the mood of the car shifting, a dangerous wave of optimism rising. “Sh-should we get off and look for help? This place actually looks fine…” An excited murmur spread as people crowded the doors, peering out at the platform. The number of people in my group! My own mental state! I couldn’t let this happen. I bolted from my seat and blocked the doors again. [The doors are opening.] “Wait,” I said, my voice sharp. “Are we sure this place is safe? Does anyone have a solid theory?” I deliberately avoided looking anyone in the eye. “I think most of us can agree that this situation feels like a ghost story,” Go Yeongeun chimed in, startled that my words had drawn everyone’s attention but not backing down. [The doors will close in 30 seconds. Once closed, they will not open again.] “But in any ghost story or horror movie, when does anything good ever come from acting on a hunch?” I pressed. “Anjeongje Kkaen you really risk your life without a solid deduction? Without any kind of proof?” My words gave the anxious crowd a moment’s pause, before someone shouted in frustration. “And what, you’ve got it all figured out?” “This guy’s been talking crap from the beginning…” “Oh, just move! What deduction? Is this some kind of quiz show? Did someone whisper the answer in your ear?” “I am giving you the answer.” I raised my hand and pointed up. Toward the subway’s electronic display, right next to the speaker. “I’m talking about the announcements.” —Please pay attention to the announcements for a pleasant journey to your destination. From the very start, the broadcast had been telling us what to do. “Hasn’t it been telling us to listen to the announcements this whole time? It couldn’t be more obvious.” As if on cue, the next announcement played. [Passengers whose destination is Hwanghol Station should disembark according to the announcement.] “Is there anyone here whose destination is actually Hwanghol Station?” I asked. “Well, it sounds like a good thing, right?” someone mumbled. “Hwanghol… like, living life to the fullest… isn’t that the goal of life?” “So, is your destination Hwanghol Station?” I repeated. A flicker of doubt crossed most of their faces. They sensed something was wrong. But a few of them rounded on me, their fear turning to anger. “Hey, does any of us have a real ‘destination’ right now? Why are you acting like you know everything when you’re just as lost as us?” “If we miss our only chance to escape because of you, will you take responsibility for that? Huh? Will you?” “I will.” It was an easy promise to make. I was already planning to get us all out of here together. Getting off here was a guaranteed death sentence. Whatever I chose couldn’t possibly be worse. My answer caught them so off guard that they could only stand there, mouths agape, frozen in place.

Chapter 5: When Text Becomes Flesh