Chapter 2: A little bit better

It wasn’t a game.
I could say that with certainty.

To be precise, while I had some game-like features—like my inventory—the rest was completely different.

No, to begin with, that game was set in a medieval world…

It was definitely a classic setting, with firearms up to muskets as the limit, a world centered around cold weapons.

Well, sure, those muskets fired at a crazy rate, making machine guns look tame…

“Building structures. Piles of documents. Reinforced concrete. Strange lab equipment and devices. Emergency exit signs. And finally—bloodstains.”

A high-pitched, almost childlike soprano voice echoes through the room.
A chilling sensation.
Wait, is someone else here?

My body freezes for a moment.
Oh, it’s just my voice.

Fck, I can’t get used to this voice.

Maybe I’ll hold off on talking for a while.
It’s been almost two days, and it still feels so foreign.
In the game, all I did was shout battle cries.
I never heard a voice like this.

Was that dorky game character, yelling “yap yap,” really me?
My character is legendary.
Truly makes my heart swell with pride…

Anyway, I figured out one thing.
I don’t know sht.
And this place feels like some kind of lab.
Wait, that’s two things.

“Ahem, ahem.”

Even if I wanted to know more, there’s barely any information to work with.
I need some kind of input to make sense of things.
Without anything coming in, what am I supposed to figure out?

I’m not Sherlock Holmes, deducing someone’s life story from their shoes.

I hate Sherlock Holmes novels for that reason.
Let me do some deduction too, you bstard.
What, are you a psychic or something?

I let my useless thoughts wander while looking around.
This place is drenched in blood and gore.
Chunks of fat and flesh are scattered everywhere.
Piles of documents, soaked in blood, are unreadable.

By the way, I’m barefoot, so my feet are covered in blood.
Some got on my body too.
Ugh, it’s sticky.

Today’s lesson: blood turns black and clumps like congealed soup when it dries.
How do I know?
Don’t talk to me.

But, surprisingly, I don’t feel much about it.
Am I not fully facing reality yet?

I feel like I’m seeing things clearly, though.
Why is that?

Whatever, let’s save those stray thoughts for later.
Right now, I focus on this place.
I can wrestle with my inner dilemmas once I’m out of here.
Maybe I’ll join a philosophy department and stress over job prospects.

Don’t join philosophy, kids.
Your big sis is serious.

The blood-soaked documents, at least the legible ones, are filled with words I don’t understand.
Erosion.
Erosion Entity.
Gate.
Gatekeeper.
Words like that dominate.
The documents seem to describe some kind of dangerous experiment gone wrong.
They knew it was risky—danger was mentioned multiple times per paragraph, practically screaming at me.

If they knew it was dangerous, why do it?
Don’t they value their lives?

If you die, it’s all over.

Erosion Entity—probably some kind of monster.
Erosion?
I’ll take it literally for now.
Gate—maybe just a literal gate?
Gatekeeper, something guarding it.
And what’s this about “blooming”?

I don’t know exactly what any of it means.
It’s all guesswork based on context.
Honestly, I deserve a pat on the back for getting this far.

Don’t assume everyone knows this stuff, you damn professors.
“Oh, you all know this, right? Heh heh.”
I heard that line way too many times in college.

Piles of documents like these are scattered everywhere, dozens of them.

The entrance looked more modern than the rest of this place—maybe this was an archive room?
It’s packed with documents and seems heavily secured.

Not that it matters now.

Everything’s wrecked.
They knew it was dangerous but went ahead anyway—guess they got what they deserved.

Rest in peace, nameless bloodstains.

I’ve cleared all the relatively safe areas.
Three pieces of information gained.

One: This isn’t a game.

The info I’ve gathered, the situation, the evidence, and my gut all tell me this isn’t a game world.

Maybe it’s a hasty conclusion.
Who knows?
Maybe outside, some guy’s saying, “Yo, this chick’s laughing!” while messing with my brain in a death game.
But even if that’s true, it’s not any game I know.

Two: This place is similar to the reality I knew.

The documents mention weird stuff, but it feels close to my era.
I’ve never seen lab equipment this bizarre, but in my 2020 world, we could probably replicate their appearance.
I don’t understand the tech, but it doesn’t feel too far off from my time.
Maybe a decade or two apart?

Sure, it could be different.
Names like Gangneung’s [Sky Gate] or Alaska’s [Great Erosion Zone]—some unfamiliar terms, but most place names sound familiar.
Probably still Earth, and the timeline’s likely close.
Plus or minus ten years?

And finally, three: This lab is dangerous.
Like, fcking dangerous.

You might think I’m stating the obvious, but…
In the top left of my vision, there’s something floating I didn’t notice before.
Call it a minimap, for lack of a better term.
It’s got some interesting details.

A green dot—that’s me.
I’m alone in a rectangular room, matching the archive’s layout.
It moves when I move.
I didn’t notice at first, but exploring earlier confirmed it.

A bit farther off, there’s a single large red dot.
And from it, a trail of smaller red dots.
I got a weird feeling and saved that area for last.

Beyond that red dot, a purple background and a red background, like a target.
And blue dots inside the red background.
What are those?

Wait, let me rephrase.

Countless red dots are staining the purple background red, as if it was always meant to be that way.
And within it, a few blue dots faintly stand out.

Centered on the lab’s large red dot, there’s a purple zone.
Surrounding the lab, a swarm of red dots in overwhelming numbers.
And blue dots, trying to break through.

Red dots—living, moving creatures.
Probably born and bred in this lab.
Are they heading out for reinforcements?

I look at the floor.
The room is soaked in blood.
The halls, the stairs—everything’s covered in blood and flesh.

They’re definitely harmful to humans.

The term from the documents comes to mind: Erosion Entity.
Monsters that attack and sometimes eat humans.

Let’s call the red dots Erosion Entities.

The blue dots?
No clue.
But this situation is obviously dangerous.
The blue dots are probably the military or something.

Their movement speed isn’t human.
The minimap’s scaled down heavily, yet they’re visibly darting around—so they’re fast.

I briefly wondered if they were tanks or armored vehicles, but I scrapped that idea.

Unless they’re on small vehicles like motorcycles, that kind of instant direction change isn’t possible.
But in a dangerous situation like this, who’d ride a motorcycle?

So, maybe people?
But not moving at human speeds.

Then they’re probably what the documents called Hunters.
Superhumans who hunt Erosion Entities.
Monsters for monsters, huh?

Let’s sum it up.

“This is a lab, taken over by monsters due to some incident. That’s one.”

I raise my pinky finger.

“Outside, tons of monsters, probably protecting the ones inside. And more coming as reinforcements. That’s two.”

I raise my ring finger.

“And Hunters, either here to kill or stop the monsters. That’s three.”

I raise my middle finger.
Three fingers, perfectly aligned.

All sorted.
Fck, I’m a genius.
I deserve some praise.

My brilliant brain’s conclusion, after piecing it all together, is this:

“This world is definitely trying to screw me over big time.”

I fold my pinky and ring finger.
The middle finger stays up, boldly aimed at whatever god or Buddha might be out there.
You’re not even human.
If I ever meet a god or Buddha, I’ll shoot them down.

Fck you!

Screw this world!