Substitute-Chapter 134

Choi Minjae realized he hadn’t tripped over something; he’d run into something.

But he didn’t know it was a wall. When he fell, he felt himself pushed forward, but that wasn’t accurate either. He was too terrified to judge rationally.

Only belatedly did he remember he had a flashlight and shoved his hand into the small pouch on his right thigh. Unfortunately, he felt shards.

It must have broken during the scuffle with the guard on the stairs.

What broke wasn’t just the flashlight. Blood was running from his nose and forehead.

Choi Minjae wiped it roughly with the back of his hand and stretched his arms out in all directions. He couldn’t tell what was what in the dark, but when he felt a wall, he decided to follow it.

He had no idea when the guards might come after him, so he headed forward blindly.

But the more he walked, the stronger the smell of blood became. It wasn’t from the blood he’d shed.

He grimaced at the stink of blood stabbing his nose.

He felt like he was in a slaughterhouse he’d never even visited.

No way that smell should be here.

He wanted to stop, but he had no other choice for the moment, so he kept walking.

Then he stopped.

In an instant the smell of blood vanished. In its place, a reeking rot stabbed his nose. Even the iron-stomached Choi Minjae gagged.

Something was literally rotting.

Wasn’t the cafeteria right above?

He found a halfway reasonable explanation.

Maybe they stored ingredients for the cafeteria in refrigerators and freezers here and they’d spoiled because of the blackout.

But it hadn’t even been thirty minutes since the power went out, and no matter how fast food spoils, it couldn’t put out this kind of stench in such a short time.

Then were they storing leftover food waste?

Imagining the source on his own, Choi Minjae opened every door he saw to pinpoint the location. The stink was awful, but with luck he might be able to hide his body in it.

When he opened the third door, he finally found the source. The stench stabbed his nose.

Before stepping inside, he took a deep breath through his mouth and carefully put his foot in.

He didn’t forget to peer back into the corridor before closing the door. No one was following him yet.

Relieved, he closed the door carefully.

Moments later, a hot wave wrapped his whole body. The heat given off by rotting trash was considerable.

Striving not to breathe through his nose, he looked around.

Unlike the rooms he’d just gone in and out of, this one was about twice as large. With no carpet, the bare cement floor showed, and black stains were splattered here and there.

There were no refrigerators or freezers as he’d imagined. Nor were there any containers or bins suitable for food waste.

Instead, seven burlap sacks were strewn irregularly around the room.

The shape of the sacks was somehow grotesque, and he flinched.

Did they put the trash in those?

He winced without meaning to.

Then he thought it would be a hundred times better to crawl into a sack than into a bin holding rotten stuff.

Right. Dump what’s in the sack and get in myself.

Having already decided to hide among the trash, Choi Minjae couldn’t think of any other option. It felt like the only exit given to him.

He strode for the sacks.

That was when he should have stopped.

No—he should never have set foot in there in the first place.

****

The Facilities supervisor was called “Chief” by his subordinates and “Supervisor Seo” by Manager Kim and the other managers.

Mid-forties, married, two sons. On a first-name basis with the heads of each department. In other words, he knew Security Captain Choi Sucheol’s name and face, but had never so much as greeted, let alone met, the other guards.

It couldn’t have been luckier for Kim Jiwon.

He climbed the stairs past the Basement Level 2 emergency exit toward Basement Level 1.

Basement Level 1 housed the Facilities office and was where the reserve staff stayed.

He had been sure the past access restriction was because of the reserves, but apparently not.

If the shotgun man was telling the truth, there was another secret space here, and it was bound to be beyond imagination.

Grotesque, maybe.

Thinking that far, Kim Jiwon gave an awkward smile and told himself he’d watched too many movies.

Ugh. Every time he moved his facial muscles, the places he’d been hit hurt. Naturally, Son Geonwoo came to mind—the one who’d struck him.

The boy who killed his father. And the bastard who tried to kill him.

Why fixate on me of all people?

Kim Jiwon was baffled. When had he been so into him, only to now hate him enough to want him dead?

Thinking how fickle people’s hearts are, he switched off his flashlight and opened the Basement Level 1 emergency exit. To be precise, the west emergency exit.

He waited until his eyes adjusted and then stepped into the corridor.

Estimating the distance from the west to the center, he drew the three-section baton. When he swung it hard into the air, it extended. Clenching it in his left hand, he hugged the wall as he walked.

He didn’t slack on caution; someone could burst out from anywhere at any time.

As he moved down the corridor, he opened every door he saw to check inside. It took time, but it beat getting jumped by someone suddenly popping out, so he kept up the tedious work.

The rooms were all surprisingly empty. Unlike their hotel-like quarters, these weren’t even fit to be used as offices.

Palm-sized bathrooms had only a showerhead—no sink or toilet—and there wasn’t a single piece of furniture in the rooms, not even a framed picture on the wall. Dust billowed off the red carpet with every step. It looked like no one had touched them for at least months.

They were bigger in square footage, and yet worse than a cubicle boarding house.

Why on earth were rooms like these needed?

His suspicion deepened with each identically creepy room he passed.

Only after he’d passed ten rooms did he arrive at the Facilities office. From the outside it looked no different than the others—hard to believe anyone had been stationed there until recently.

But the place—apparently knocked together from about three rooms—held not only desks and computers but four CCTV monitors for observing the Generator Room and the adjacent warehouse. There was also a duty room with the cot and even a small pantry.

The pantry. Right, there was a pantry.

He hadn’t eaten anything all this time, but strangely he wasn’t hungry. Earlier he’d been starving, but now he didn’t even want a sip of water. Still, it seemed wise to top up his energy for later.

He eased the office door open and headed straight for the pantry.

He opened the refrigerator first. From a fridge full of beer cans, he took bottled water. He drained one and pocketed another as a spare.

The moment he drank the water, his appetite roared back. He was so hungry his hands trembled.

No wonder.

He had joined the game after nearly two days without food, fought Son Geonwoo in a brutal grapple, and even climbed a mountain in foul weather.

Frankly, considering what he’d gone through these two days, it was a wonder he’d made it this long on an empty stomach.

He hastily opened the cabinet under the shelf with the teabags and instant coffee sticks. Inside, it was crammed with bread and all kinds of snacks.

He tore open whatever his hands landed on and stuffed bread and snacks into his mouth.

Whatever it was, it tasted better than anything he’d ever eaten in his life.

His body, which had been surviving on willpower alone, must have hit its limit, because it demanded food without end. Meeting its demands, he shoved food down his throat and replenished the energy he’d lacked.

After bread and snacks, he wolfed down a chocolate bar, then shoved two more chocolate bars into his suit pocket and went back to the fridge for a cola.

It was sweet enough to raise goosebumps.

Only then did a satisfied smile curl his lips.

Maybe because of the blood sugar spike, he suddenly felt dizzy and perched on the bed. Dizzy or not, he sipped the remaining cola.

He wanted nothing more than to grab a nap, but honestly, even this felt like dereliction of duty.

Someone might be being tortured in his place, and here he was sipping cola.

Guilt cinched his throat.

He crushed the can and got ready to head out again.

He had the flashlight and the three-section baton; he’d leave the extra water, regrettably. The chocolate bars should be fine.

Anything else he could use as a weapon? He had the Pocketknife.

He grabbed a pair of scissors and carefully opened the office door.

Back in the dark corridor, he looked toward where he needed to go—the east emergency exit, the only light in the darkness.

By location, it was directly beneath the cafeteria.

So there’s an unknown space beyond that?

As before, he advanced, checking rooms one by one. He was only two rooms shy of where the shotgun man had said.

The wall... was open.

Like that ant nest on Basement Level 3, a wall that had surely once been sealed now gaped half-open.

He was about to skip the remaining rooms and head straight on when he heard the east emergency exit door open.

He ducked into the room he’d just come out of and hid. In case someone opened the door, he stood right behind it, three-section baton raised.

“You two stay here.”

The voice echoed, making it hard to judge the man’s age, but the word “you two” carried seasoned weight.

“I’m sorry, Chairman. The Captain told us to stay with you no matter what.”

This one sounded like a guard.

Chairman...

There was only one man anyone would call Chairman.

Gwak Hoon.

“My order takes precedence. Didn’t Choi Sucheol teach you that?”

His tone stayed indulgent, but his firmness bled through.

The other fell silent, and with a final “Wait here,” the conversation ended.

Of all times, it seemed the Chairman had gone where he needed to go. To make matters worse, if they followed the Chairman’s orders, the guards would be posted in front of it.

To confirm their exact number, Kim Jiwon pressed close to the door and darted a look out.

Four. Fuck.

He squeezed his eyes shut.

Just then, he heard one of the four radio the Security Captain.

If the Captain showed up too, his chance to get inside would plummet.

Kim Jiwon decided this was the only chance he was getting.

He reminded himself he was the Facilities supervisor and pumped himself up.

They didn’t even know each other’s names, let alone faces.

“Where the hell are they supposed to be?”

In a heavily annoyed voice, he yelled as he strode out with his flashlight blazing.

All four guards looked at him at once. As if planned, every one of them held a three-section baton.

“Who are you?”

Two of the four said in unison.

“What are you doing here?”

Kim Jiwon shot back, just as annoyed.

“You don’t know Basement Level 1 is a restricted area?”

He chewed them out and lit their faces with his flashlight.

“Who gave you permission to be here, huh?”

“We came with the Chairman. Why are you coming out of that room, Chief?”

Belatedly recognizing his outfit, the guards answered with indifference.

“Why do you think? Can’t you see there’s a blackout?”

He intended to say he was checking each room to find the cause of the outage.

Since the Facilities office was on this floor, it wasn’t at all strange for him to show up here. Sure, if they knew almost all the rooms were empty, they might be suspicious, but unless they were technicians, they wouldn’t have grounds to nitpick.

As expected, none of the four pressed him.

“The Chairman’s in there, right?”

He asked as if he ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) already knew, casual as could be.

“Yes. He’s inside.”

“Ah, fuck. I’m screwed.”

He swore loudly on purpose and tried to walk past them.

“He told us not to let anyone in.”

One of the four thrust an arm out to block him.

“That applies to you. I’m someone who has a duty to report.”

Openly irritable, he slapped the hand away.

He was so brazen that the four just glanced at each other and then opened a path.

“Captain Choi will arrive soon.”

A guard added to the back of his head.

“Good. I needed help anyway.”

Kim Jiwon replied without looking back.

What had been hard once now came easy; he felt no qualms, as if he really were the Facilities supervisor.

In this building, no one knew that better than he did: a uniform and a mask were all you needed to prove your identity.

You could say it was sloppy, but that was only from an outside perspective.

The people gathered here were vetted. Only those with established identities were selectively deployed for this secret project.

So once inside, it was natural they felt no need to suspect one another. None of the managers seemed to have considered that this would be a major vulnerability.

Past the guards, Kim Jiwon shifted the flashlight to his right hand. With his left he fiddled with the leather case of the three-section baton and waited to put distance between them.

The man was tall, but an old man. There was no reason he couldn’t win by force.

He was clearer-headed and more energized than ever. The snacks and cola he’d just had worked like a booster.

If he got past this hurdle, he was full of hope that getting out would be nothing.

A glance back showed the guards’ black outfits already swallowed by the dark. They looked like shadows rather than people.

Hoping he looked the same to them, Kim Jiwon turned off his flashlight.

He extended the three-section baton and became one with the dark.