I Activated Cheat Mode in a Bizarre Game

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"It feels like I'm channeling a little energy... but I’m using more strength than energy right now."
"...I still can't really tell the difference..."
As I listened to her and kept throwing the talismans, she said I was slowly getting better.
Though personally, I couldn’t really tell.

Compared to the beginning, the talismans were definitely flying farther.
Though honestly, it also felt like I was just hurling them with brute force…
Bora advised me not to rush, and for now, to just keep practicing the motion she’d shown me the first time—the talisman throw.
She said this was the most basic and essential step to developing spiritual senses in exorcism.
Even after returning home, I kept throwing talismans while trying to channel my breath into them.

Chomp.
Daeho and Leo were happily leaping up to snatch the flying talismans out of the air and chew them apart.
Because of that, it was hard to tell just how far the talismans were actually going.

"...You're not supposed to eat those, okay?"
"Grrowl."
"Rrrowwr..."
The two cats were too absorbed in chewing the talismans to care what I said.

...Should I buy them some actual cat toys or something?
Now that I thought about it, I guess I really hadn’t paid enough attention to that kind of thing.
I should at least buy a scratcher or some toys.
That night, back in the new house, I wrestled with the paper talismans until I nodded off without realizing.
The next morning, feeling a bit more exhausted than usual, I dragged my body to work at Baekho.

As I stepped into the temporary Team 10 office, the first thing that caught my eye was someone I hadn’t seen in a while—former Team Leader Park Cheolwoo. Or maybe I should just call him Mr. Park Cheolwoo now.
But in my head, I still couldn’t stop calling him Team Leader Park.
He was already standing there, prepared for our briefing, wearing a serious expression as he waited for us.
"I’ll begin the briefing for this rescue mission."

At his words, a subtle tension filled the air in the office.
He brought up the display screen in front of him and began.
"The rescue target is currently trapped inside a subway where a monster phenomenon has occurred. The location is a station called Ha-Moo, which doesn’t officially exist. A civilian ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ is trapped on that train and has sent a distress call."

The screen showed a dark, eerie photo of an empty subway car.
At first glance, it looked like an ordinary subway—but where the station name should’ve been, the words ‘Ha-Moo Station’ were repeated over and over, and the interior structure seemed just slightly off.
"Fortunately, there are records of this ‘Ha-Moo Station’ phenomenon appearing in other locations in the past, so we already have basic intel on how to enter the phenomenon and what the internal structure looks like."

Team Leader Park sent the relevant files to all of us.
After scanning the room once more, he continued.
"Since this is a rescue mission, it’s likely to become a race against time. That concludes the main briefing. From here, you’ll receive real-time updates and additional info through support team communication—Han Sora will be your point of contact. The support team has already selected and packed necessary items into the vehicle's back seat."

It had been a long time since I’d heard a briefing from Team Leader Park.
Compared to when we were still the Exploration Team, the briefing felt more polished and steady.
When I asked him how he liked working in the support team now, he gave a faint smile.

"Honestly… it’s nice."
We smiled at each other briefly, nodded, and quickly began prepping for the mission.
Team 10 immediately started checking the files we’d been given.

Our first official mission as part of Baekho.
Who would've thought a main quest opportunity would show up this soon?
"Let’s go."
"Right."

After finishing the briefing, we headed out straight to a quiet subway station in Incheon.
As soon as we arrived, we popped open the trunk of the vehicle and checked the item box.
"This is..."
"These are the items we submitted earlier."

They must’ve finished inspection already—familiar gear was packed inside.
Among them, I gladly retrieved the Return Sword and strapped it to my waist.
Besides our own gear, they’d also packed additional items: earpieces for communication, and a large escape disk that looked like it could evacuate multiple people at once.

We took everything and stepped into the station.
It was midday on a weekday, and the station was nearly deserted—no surprise for a quiet spot in Incheon.
The air felt strangely still, even eerie.
Park Sunja placed the earpiece in her ear and continued to relay information from Han Sora in the support team as she guided us.

"According to Han Sora, the method to enter this monster phenomenon is surprisingly simple."
She turned to us as she explained.
And her explanation was… truly bizarre.

Before the train arrived, we had to stand behind the safety line on the platform—facing away from the tracks. We were forbidden from watching the train arrive.
When the doors opened and we heard the sound, we were to step backward onto the train, without ever looking at it directly.
"...That’s all?" Bora asked incredulously.

But Park Sunja simply nodded with a serious face.
It was simple. But if you didn’t know the method, it was something you’d never do on your own.
How the hell did the first people who got trapped here even manage to board in such a weird way?

Following Park Sunja’s instructions, we stood in a row with our backs to the tracks.
A moment later, we could feel the rumbling and noise of the train approaching from behind.
Hiss— the doors opened.

As if on cue, we all stepped backward and boarded.
And the instant the doors closed—the interior was nothing like any subway we knew.
Outside the windows: pitch-black darkness.
Inside: dim, flickering lights that gave off a sinister air.

Most importantly, we were the only passengers.
Next stop is Ha-Moo… Ha-Moo Station. This train is bound for Ha-Moo… Ha-Moo Station.
A mechanical female voice echoed from the train’s speaker.

The train, now repeating the name of a station that didn’t exist, sped forward into the darkness.
Where there would normally be advertisements on the walls, oversized notices were posted instead—almost like rules.
1. Memorize everything about the subway car you are currently in.
2. If you enter the next car and notice any differences from the current one, that car is an ‘Abnormal Car’ and is extremely dangerous.
3. If you find an Abnormal Car, immediately return to the previous one. If there is no abnormality, continue forward.
4. Once you reach the very first car, you will be able to safely disembark at the station you first entered.

They were like the rules for some twisted version of spot-the-difference.
Park Sunja, still communicating with Han Sora, turned back to us.
"Support says we must follow these rules exactly. They warn that anything could be lurking in the abnormal cars, so we need to be extremely careful."

We were trapped in this grotesque train… about to play a deadly game of spot-the-difference.
I tensed up, burning every detail of this first car into my mind—down to the tiniest sticker on the wall.
"Take a look at this."

Just as we were carefully memorizing the four rules on the wall, Park Sunja noticed something near the bottom in tiny print.
A fifth rule.
5. If you fail to notice abnormalities more than 3 times in a row and proceed to the next car, the train will stop immediately at Ha-Moo Station, and all passengers will be forcibly removed.

Forcibly removed.
Something about that phrase felt especially ominous.
Being dropped off at a station that doesn’t exist… could only mean something terrible.

"The labor seats are in car 3..."
"Do we have to memorize the stickers too?"
We turned our full attention to this first car—number [10], faintly marked on the wall—and tried to memorize every single thing.
The number and color of the handles. The pattern on the floor tiles. The tiny scratches on the windows. Even the ads and exactly where they were stuck.

Like trying to find hidden differences in two nearly identical images, we forced ourselves to remember it all like a photograph.
If only we could use our phones—but the screens were pitch-black, as if the batteries had died.
"If anything’s hard to remember, let me know. Support can write it down for you."

Park Sunja was relaying difficult parts to the support team for documentation.
This was definitely one area where having support helped.
Time passed.

Once we were confident we’d memorized everything, we cautiously moved toward the doors at the end of the car.
The doors opened—and we stepped into the next car.
At first glance… everything looked the same as car 10.

Same seats. Same handles. Same ads.
"...Do you see anything different?" Shun muttered, frowning.
We couldn’t afford to let our guard down.

We carefully started comparing everything again.
Finally—Bora let out a small gasp and pointed at the ceiling.
"Over there! The handles—there’s one missing!"

She was right.
In car 10, there had been exactly eight handles on each row, hanging from the ceiling.
But in this car, one corner only had seven.
It was a tiny detail—but a clear abnormality.

"Alright, we found it. According to the rules, we need to go back now."
I spoke firmly, keeping my guard up.
We opened the doors and stepped back into the car we had just come from.

But something was wrong.
The number on the wall now read [9], not [10].
Even though we’d returned… we had actually moved forward.

And in that moment, I realized something about the way this twisted train operated.
If you found the abnormality and took the correct action by retreating… the train rewarded you by moving forward to the next car.
This way, we just had to keep going until we reached car 1—the front of the train.

You’re doing great!
Han Sora’s cheerful voice came through the earpiece as we completed the first step successfully.