Editor’s Survival Guide — Chapter 2
Episode 1. When the Siren Wails (2)
Survival Rules for Missing Persons Inside the 「Railway Station Where the Siren Wails」
■ General Precautions
One. Do not forget that you are human.
Only humans can leave this place.
Two. Observe the social norms of the Republic of Korea.
Criminal acts are not permitted even within a Special Management Zone (hereafter, “Special Zone”).
Three. All acts of consumption—such as eating, drinking, or reading—are prohibited inside a Special Zone.
Such acts may cause severe damage to your body and mind.
■ Escape Protocols for the 「Railway Station Where the Siren Wails」
The 「Railway Station Where the Siren Wails」 is a railway-station-shaped Special Zone distinguished by a siren that sounds at forty-seven-minute intervals.
The escape routes identified to date are listed below. Please consult the following information and return safely.
—The Following—
Route A. Escape by Boarding a Train
Route B. Escape via the 「Rag Doll」
Route C. Escape via the 「Recycling Bin」
Route D. Seek Refuge in the 「Circulating Library」 Special Zone
Route E. Death in Service of the Nation
—
As I read the rulebook, I instinctively reached out with my right hand.
Hm? Oh, right.
Only after my hand swiped through empty air did I belatedly sigh.
Without realizing it, I had been trying to pick up a pen and underline every sentence.
It was both an occupational habit and a chronic affliction among editors.
It also meant this rulebook contained that many errors.
Why had they written the sentences like this?
There wasn’t just one or two that made me want to leave a comment.
But I set aside my identity as an editor for a moment and, as a missing person, carefully considered the sentences before me.
Even so, there was one term I simply could not understand.
What in the world did “death in service of the nation” mean here?
Surely it couldn’t mean what I thought it did.
After some thought, I searched the detailed explanations for each route and read the section on “death in service of the nation” first.
—
Route E. Death in Service of the Nation
Recommended when escape is unfeasible or you lack the courage to select Route C.
This Special Zone contains areas whose internal structures and danger levels have not yet been confirmed.
If you are prepared to die, please proceed to the location specified below.
Should you die in service of the nation, a modest consolation payment will be delivered to your legal heirs.
Furthermore, if meaningful information is obtained through your sacrifice, a substantial reward will be paid.
—
……Seriously?
Knowing the answer only made me feel sick.
“Death in service of the nation” meant exactly what the dictionary said: “giving one’s life for one’s country.”
In other words, if I was going to die anyway, they wanted me to use that life to dig up some information first.
Flabbergasted, I checked the beginning of the rulebook again.
It clearly said this place was “under the management of the government of the Republic of Korea.”
So they were serious?
Was the Republic of Korea really a country that urged its own citizens in peril either to escape by their own efforts or sacrifice themselves?
Every last word was absurd.
Then again, so was the reality I now faced.
Besides, what if I rejected it because it seemed suspicious?
Did I have any other clues or methods?
Regrettably, no.
I didn’t even know why the two people in front of me had suddenly died the way they did.
For now, therefore, I had no choice but to rely on this rulebook.
Clinging to it as though it were my last straw, I swiftly read the whole thing with care.
The only option available to me here was “Route A. Escape by Boarding a Train.”
I didn’t meet the conditions for “Route B. Escape via the 「Rag Doll」” at all.
As for “Route C. Escape via the 「Recycling Bin」”…… I simply didn’t want to attempt it.
I was bad at games of chance.
What was more, I never wanted to meet that cleaner again.
In the end, Route A was the only route that seemed worth trying.
But according to the instructions here, I first needed to obtain a ticket before I could board a train.
There were two ways to get one.
One was to purchase it at the ticket counter.
The other was through barter.
Under ordinary circumstances, of course I would buy a ticket at the counter.
But buying one here appeared all but impossible.
Because the ticket was insanely expensive.
—
Route A. Escape by Boarding a Train
A ticket is required to board a train.
Tickets sold at the ticket counter cost 15,870,000 won.
They may be purchased only with cash. Credit cards, debit cards, and blank checks cannot be used.
Please also note that the ATMs inside the Special Zone do not function.
—
No, seriously, what kind of person walked around with over fifteen million won in cash……?
Fortunately, the author of the rulebook seemed to have thought the same thing.
There was an alternative of sorts underneath.
—
If you do not have cash, you may exchange belongings for cash through the lockers located in the waiting hall.
Place the item you wish to exchange in the compartment in Row 7, Column 1, then close the door.
The item placed inside the locker will then disappear, and cash equal to seventy percent of that item’s market value will be dispensed automatically.
Citizens in possession of valuable items may secure cash through the above method and use it to purchase a ticket.
—
Hmm. A completely useless alternative.
They expected me to exchange my belongings for cash until I had 15.87 million won.
It might have been different for someone carrying an expensive luxury item, but a poor editor couldn’t even attempt it in the first place.
Even if I emptied out everything I had right now, I doubted it would amount to one million won.
No, come to think of it, it wasn’t entirely impossible.
If I cut out the organs inside my body and put them in, wouldn’t they fetch about enough for a ticket?
Of course, I would first need to find a kindly surgeon before I could use that method.
I felt both wronged and miserable, but part of me thought this was for the best.
The sight of that person’s head flying off in front of the ticket counter was still vivid in my mind.
Since I wouldn’t have to pass in front of it, I would call this a blessing instead. Yes.
In the end, the only method I could attempt was barter.
I took a deep breath and rose to my feet.
Then I slowly stepped back into the waiting hall.
It was as quiet and clean as when I had first arrived.
Every trace of the blood that had flooded the floor was gone, and the cleaner was nowhere to be seen.
I walked with my gaze fixed on the floor so that I wouldn’t look at the signs scattered about or the writing on them.
There was an enormous celadon vase placed there as decoration.
Beside it was an escalator leading to the second floor.
I rode the escalator, running all by itself, and emerged into a second-floor corridor.
On one side of the corridor were restaurants and cafés.
On the other were restrooms and several office spaces.
Those office spaces resembled conference rooms or business lounges.
But since I couldn’t read the words on the signs, there was no way to confirm it.
So I walked down the corridor, counting its pillars.
One, two, three…….
As instructed in the rulebook, I stood before the sixth pillar and looked to my right. There was an automatic glass door.
I couldn’t read the words written above it either.
But if I had found the right place, this would be the Armed Forces Personnel Lounge inside the station, intended for soldiers and military employees.
The glass door opened automatically as I approached.
Inside, it was laid out like a small unmanned café.
The atmosphere was rather cozy.
Yet the moment I stepped inside, I flinched in alarm.
Something was sitting at the very back of the lounge.
It was dressed in khaki trousers and a khaki top, but it did not look human.
Its head hung low, and its limbs were abnormally long.
The knees it had bent to sit in the chair rose a good fifty centimeters above its head.
What was more, its outer shell was cracked black as charcoal and gleamed.
It looked like a spider that had shriveled in death.
I tensed inwardly at its grotesque appearance.
Outwardly, however, I pretended nothing was wrong, approached it, and asked politely,
“Do you happen to have an unclaimed ticket?”
The strange thing slowly nodded.
Read only on MUGEX
—
If you cannot purchase a ticket from the ticket counter, proceed to the Armed Forces Personnel Lounge on the second floor of the waiting hall.
Once there, request a barter exchange with the 「Something Wearing an Old-Style Uniform」.
If it discovers an item it likes, it will give you a ticket.
Up to five barter attempts are safe. Further attempts may provoke the aggression of the 「Something Wearing an Old-Style Uniform」.
Items that have successfully been bartered to date are listed below.
1. Cigarettes
2. Painkillers
3. Handkerchief
4. Silver ring
5. Cross or rosary
6. White flowers
7. Burn treatment
8. Uncooked rice
Items that have failed in barter attempts to date are listed below.
1. Pornographic material
2. Electronic devices of any kind
3. Precious metals and jewelry other than silver rings
4. Food such as snacks, chocolate, bread, and gimbap
5. Clothing and footwear of any kind
For your safety, barter attempts involving the items below are prohibited.
1. Firearms of any kind, including replicas
2. Bladed weapons of any kind, including replicas
3. Explosives of any kind, including replicas
4. Living or deceased humans
—
I had none of the items on those lists right now.
Not among the successes, the failures, or the prohibited items.
Whichever list I considered.
Even so, there was room to try.
Who would have thought that being too busy with a deadline to clean out my bag would help me?
As it happened, I had visited a promotional-goods supplier last week.
Thanks to that, all sorts of complimentary souvenirs and merchandise samples were rolling around inside my bag.
I opened it, took out a metal cigarette case, and placed it on the table.
No response.
I removed the cigarette case and set down a portable first-aid kit.
No response.
I tried replacing the first-aid kit with a flower-shaped key ring.
Still no response.
I laughed hollowly at the string of failures.
So much for having room to try.
Right. There was no way it would be that simple.
The list said cigarettes, painkillers, and white flowers worked, so I had tried offering a cigarette case, a first-aid kit, and something shaped like a flower.
Every last one had been rejected outright.
All that remained in my bag now were odds and ends like bookmarks and memo pads.
If those failed too, I would have no choice but to cross over into the 「Circulating Library」.
Or leave everything to chance and climb inside the 「Recycling Bin」.
Neither appealed to me in the slightest.
Wondering if there might be anything else, I rummaged through my bag.
Then my fingers encountered something rectangular along its lining.
I pulled it from an inner pocket to see what it was.
Ah, right. I had this, didn’t I?
What emerged from my bag was a palm-sized pocketbook.
When I riffled through it, I found a brief message and the author’s signature written on an inside page.
「To Editor Seo Do-un, who is always so helpful,
With gratitude always, Na Bit.」
Na Bit was one of the authors assigned to me.
And what had just come out of my bag was a collection of quotations produced to commemorate the tenth anniversary of Author Na Bit’s debut.
I had put it in my bag intending to leave it at home, but I had been so busy lately that I had completely forgotten about it.
I flipped through a few more pages.
Then, on the off chance it might work, I placed it on the table.
Again, there was no response.
I was thinking I had missed the mark again when it suddenly extended a long, bony arm.
Then it picked up my book and began slowly turning the pages.
What?
Could it have worked?
……Did it work?
It must have!
And I had thought there was nothing to lose by trying!
I rejoiced a little prematurely at the thought that I had succeeded.
But in the next instant,
It abruptly tore my book apart.