chapter 52 - Subway (2)
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Upon reaching Car 9, we scrutinized our surroundings more intensely than ever before.
We mentally compared this car to Car 10—dozens of times over—replaying the differences in our heads.
The number of handles, the color of the seats, the smudges on the windows, the scratches on the floor tiles…
But this time, no matter how hard we searched, we couldn’t find a single difference.
"...I really don’t see anything... Maybe there’s no abnormality here?"
"Same here. Nothing."
"...Hmm..."
After combing through the car for a long time, Bora finally muttered as if giving up.
Shun, Hanbit, and Park Sunja all seemed to feel the same—shaking their heads in silence.
No one could find anything wrong. But even so, not a single person dared to suggest, “Let’s move to the next car.”
Because what if… what if there was a subtle abnormality we hadn’t noticed?
"...Hmm."
At that moment, a bold and reckless idea passed through my head.
What if there isn’t an abnormality—so we make one?
I reached for the nearest handle hanging from the ceiling.
Then, using all my strength, I yanked it downward.
CRACK—!
With a heavy tearing noise, the handle snapped cleanly from its plastic mount.
It resisted more than I expected, but in the end, it came off.
"Minjun, what are you—?!"
Park Sunja shouted, stunned. The rest of the team—except Shun—stared at me and the ripped-off handle in disbelief.
I calmly recalled the rules and said, “The rules only told us to find abnormalities. They never said anything about ‘no property damage,’ did they?”
Shun nodded in agreement.
"Yeah. I tried it too, but mine didn’t even budge. How’d you pull it off?"
He looked genuinely surprised.
"Are you allowed to do that…?"
"...Well, let’s go back for now..."
We opened the door and returned to the previous car—from this Car 9, where we’d now created an abnormality.
And where we arrived… was Car [8].
It worked.
"Oh..."
"So it does work…"
Bora let out a dazed chuckle.
But our moment of relief didn’t last long.
Because on the wall of Car 8, a new rule had been added—written in bold red letters that hadn’t been there before.
6. Destruction of train property is prohibited. (Violators will be immediately ejected at Ha-Moo Station.)
And beneath that, a smaller line of text was added:
*Note: The posted train rules and car numbers do **not** count as abnormalities.
Yeah… the damned phenomenon adapted faster than we expected.
It had patched the loophole we’d just found—almost instantly.
Clearly, that kind of trick wouldn’t work again.
Car 8 was easy to clear.
Once we read the notice and stepped halfway inside, all the lights suddenly turned off.
It was such an obvious abnormality that we didn’t hesitate—we immediately turned back, opened the door, and just as expected, arrived at Car [7].
The problem was Car 7.
We scoured every inch of the place—more thoroughly than ever before—but couldn’t find anything different from Car 10.
The handles. The seats. The ads. The floor tiles. Even the timing of the messages on the display screen.
Everything looked exactly the same.
As time passed, anxiety crept in—but we couldn’t recklessly move forward, either.
"...Let’s just go for it. We can’t stay here forever. And it’s a rescue mission—we’re on the clock."
"...You're right."
In the end, I was the one to speak up first.
For the person waiting to be rescued—and for the main quest—we had to move forward.
The others reluctantly nodded, and we swallowed hard and opened the door to the next car.
"...Hoo…"
"Thank god."
Thankfully, we arrived in Car [6].
So there really was no abnormality in Car 7.
But our relief was short-lived.
As we began scanning Car 6, Bora—who had been watching the windows—suddenly let out a low gasp.
"Ugh...!"
"What’s wrong?"
"O-over there…! Outside the window!"
I followed the direction of her trembling finger—and I felt my blood run cold.
Just beyond the black train window, a woman was staring in at us. Her mouth was torn from ear to ear in a grotesque smile.
Her face was so close, it was as if she were pressed up against the glass.
Shun, Hanbit, and Park Sunja all seemed surprisingly calm.
"What is that? Is someone trying to copy the Red Mask urban legend?"
Hanbit muttered flatly, and Shun shrugged, saying he didn’t know about Red Mask, but there were similar monsters in Japanese folklore.
"She’s not attacking. Harmless."
My reaction was… not quite the same.
The sheer grotesqueness of that thing made it impossible to keep my eyes open—I squeezed them shut, heart pounding.
I’d seen all kinds of monsters in this world, but this kind… was a hard no for me.
Not the kind that attacks directly, but the kind that just sits there—unreachable—playing on your fear.
If it just charged at me, I could fight. But this?
"L-let’s go back. Now."
Just then, Bora gently tugged on my frozen arm.
The warmth of her touch helped calm my nerves a little.
She was clearly shaken too—her hand trembling as she clung to me—but honestly, I was the one leaning on her just to keep walking.
Outside the window, that woman kept smiling at us.
And then—we reached Car 5.
A woman was crouched in the center of the car, her head bowed low.
For a second, I froze in panic—
"A survivor…?"
As I stepped forward, hoping it was one of the people who sent the distress call, Park Sunja quickly blocked me with a low warning.
"Minjun, be careful. That woman might not be a survivor. She could be… part of the phenomenon."
"...Got it."
I kept my eyes fixed on the woman, tension rising.
Still, I wasn’t as scared as before.
If a monster was within reach—where I could hit it—it wasn’t so bad.
I gave a crooked smile at how broken my standards had become, and stepped toward her.
"...Huh… huhuh…"
The woman still had her head down, sobbing.
Her trembling shoulders and back looked genuinely terrified.
I judged her to be a survivor and spoke in the gentlest voice I could.
"...We’re the Baekho exploration team. We responded to a rescue call. Are you alright?"
At my words, she sobbed harder and slowly raised her head, saying: “Huhuhuh… I was… I was so scared…”
And the moment her face came into view, goosebumps shot across my entire body.
It was her.
The same face with the torn mouth—the one that had stared at us from the window.
"I thought… I was going to starve to death… I was so scared."
She was crying and smiling at the same time—a deranged, twisted expression.
Then she slowly opened her mouth wide—so wide it split open with a crackling sound.
Inside were rows of razor-sharp, needle-like teeth.
My body moved before I could think.
I punched.
But my fist passed right through her, like slicing through empty air.
I knew I’d hit her—yet I felt no impact.
"Ghh!"
I flinched, barely managing to dodge the incoming bite.
"Suppressing Tag!"
Bora shouted and flung a talisman.
Unlike my useless punch, her talisman struck the woman’s forehead dead-on, glowing faintly and slowing her movement—just a bit.
"Let’s get out of here—now!"
Park Sunja shouted, but when we ran for the door and tried to open it, it wouldn’t budge.
Then, on the display above the door, red numbers started to appear:
1:321:32
1:311:31
1:301:30
...A countdown.
So we had to survive here for 1 minute and 30 seconds?
"Why didn’t my punch land—but the talisman worked?"
I asked, panicking.
Bora responded calmly.
"Some monsters are like spirits. Physical attacks don’t really work on them—or they have a specific weakness. This one’s probably like that!"
Hanbit chimed in from the side.
"That’s one reason people rely more on items or abilities than guns. Not every enemy reacts to bullets."
As he said that, he took out an item.
So physical attacks were useless. And there was a time limit.
Annoying.
But an idea flashed through my head.
"Bora! Do you have any talismans with writing on them?"
She looked puzzled, but pulled out a few from her waist pouch and handed them to me.
I immediately grabbed them and wrapped them around my right fist—like a boxing glove.
She watched me, confused.
"...What are you doing…?"
Meanwhile, the torn-mouth woman was slowly approaching again.
I threw another punch—this time with my talisman-wrapped fist.
SMASH—!
"Ugh… wha…?"
The woman let out a short sound as my punch connected.
It landed squarely on her face, delivering a solid, crushing impact that shattered her head like dry plaster—bursting into dust.
The talisman had worked.
"So this is talisman technique..."
I murmured in awe.
Bora ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) stared at me, dumbfounded.
"...That’s not talisman technique..."
Her voice was exasperated, but the results were what mattered.
The countdown on the display had stopped.
And the door behind us—the way forward—was slowly sliding open.