Chapter: 67
Chapter 67 – Room 101, Cursed Room – ‘Common Sense Renovating Media’ (1)
—
Third Attempt
—
[User: Han Kain (Wisdom)
Date: Day 22
Current Location: Floor 1, Room 101 (Cursed Room – Common Sense Renovating Media)
Sage’s Advice: 3]
—
Let’s head to the basement. I felt like searching upstairs might yield some valuable insights, but that’s just asking for trouble.
The upper floors are packed with offices. In other words, it’s swarming with people.
The Administration Badge does act like a magic charm of sorts, but it only helps to slightly push people back. I can’t exactly kick them out of the building, so heading into an overcrowded area just feels way too risky.
Since I’m the only one left, I might as well explore the basement and save the upstairs search for later, after we’ve all come up with a plan.
Clomp. Clomp.
The sound of my footsteps began to echo through the hallway. There wasn’t a single soul in sight. On the bright side, my headache and tinnitus from the curse seemed to have vanished, but it still felt pretty off.
There should be staff parking their cars in the underground parking lot, which means there should be at least a few people coming up from there, right? But come on, how can it be this empty?
Then again, maybe this lack of company is an indication that I’m heading to the right place.
Clomp. Clomp.
It felt a little eerie being all alone. After experiencing all sorts of bizarre things at the hotel and getting used to seeing bodies, I still had some primal fears lingering deep down.
I’m starting to reach the underground parking lot. I spotted a guardhouse near the entrance. Time to flex the badge again, right?
Huhp!
I instinctively pinched my nose and stepped back.
What a horrendous stench! The smell coming from the parking lot was so unbearable that I could hardly breathe.
It was the kind of odor you’d expect from a dilapidated public restroom filled with fermented waste, mixed with the rotten smell of food.
Honestly, I couldn’t even dream of going further in.
But wait, maybe that’s precisely why I should go take a look?
It’s definitely a bizarre phenomenon.
The idea of such a stench originating from the parking lot alone is odd, and it’s even stranger that no one seems to be taking care of it despite the outrageous smell.
I pushed through the queasy feeling and moved closer to the parking lot, realizing the smell was coming from the guardhouse.
How could there even be a person working in such a terrible guardhouse?!
I cautiously approached the guardhouse, relying on the ‘curse detection’ ability that kicked in after entering Room 101.
I got right up to the door, yet I felt nothing. Looks like there aren’t any cursed individuals inside.
However, the closer I got, the clearer it became that the source of the smell was definitely that guardhouse.
What in the world is happening here? I thought I might as well check whether it’s filth or food waste, and with that intention in mind, I swung the door open, planning to shut it quickly afterward.
And there…
I saw hell.
What happens when a person gets locked in a small, confined space and only repeats the cycle of eating and defecating?
The floor, the walls, the trash bins—all soaked in stinky human excrement. Everywhere, remnants of canned food and rotting waste were piled up, along with scribbles that would send anyone into a frenzy.
But there was something far worse than all this horror.
A human—a living one.
Abandoned by all hope, this man had been reduced to a beast by fear. It was the final despair of someone who was born human yet relinquished all semblance of humanity.
Upon noticing me, the skeletal figure staggeringly approached.
His eyes bore wounds, as if he had been trying to deny the reality unfolding before him by rubbing them. More than half of one ear was missing; perhaps he had hurt himself trying to block out the terrifying noises.
His body bore a multitude of self-inflicted wounds, with his left arm and right leg nearly immobilized.
“You… Administration… Why have you come now?”
“…”
“Isn’t it delightful? The scent?”
“…”
“I have run out of decent food. It’s been about a month. What do you think I’ve been eating?”
“…”
The gaunt figure crawled towards me, pointing at a piece of paper with bony fingers.
Amid this hellish scene, one solitary item stood out—clean, laminated paper.
This piece of paper felt as if it belonged to a different world altogether.
As I picked it up, the man stumbled, rolling back into the hell of excrement and refuse.
“Would you like to go out?”
“Please… show mercy. Use that thing to your right.”
Bang!
I closed the guardhouse door behind me.
The foul stench remained, but there were no headaches or tinnitus to accompany it.
This man, now at rest, had clearly not been cursed.
Maybe he was simply lucky enough to avoid the curse from the start, possibly by turning off the TV as soon as something felt off. Considering he was stationed in a remote area, it’s possible he managed to escape the curse by avoiding contact.
But in the end, he was all alone. While he clung to his sanity, the world outside had been consumed by madness.
This man could barely take a step into the terrifying world outside and ultimately rotted away in the guardhouse…
I pulled out the laminated paper I had taken from the guardhouse. The paper itself was clean, but the guardhouse’s stench lingered, and honestly, I wasn’t too keen on keeping it.
It had a very simple set of warnings written on it:
1. You must not look inside the cars in the parking lot.
2. You must not turn around in the staircase to the basement.
3. Do not turn the lights on when looking for something in the storeroom of the basement. Use a flashlight instead.
Fairly simple, I read through it a couple of times until I memorized it, then tossed the paper into the trash.
Now, with those warnings in mind, I decided to delve deeper into the basement.
Ignoring the parked cars, I walked straight ahead for a while until I discovered a staircase leading to Floor 2 of the basement. Wasn’t there something about not turning around?
With my eyes firmly ahead, I descended to the second floor. As expected, nothing remarkable happened.
On the second floor, there was a supply room, a restroom, an office, and a room with an odd machine that was still running.
No sign of anyone here.
I inspected several rooms but found nothing particularly out of the ordinary, so my next target was clear: the storeroom.
The paper contained a warning for searching in the storeroom, so perhaps there was something worthwhile tucked away?
I started to make my way down the stairs to the third floor.
Clomp… Skreee!
Just as I took a few steps down the staircase to the basement’s third floor, I heard a sound like metal scraping against the floor coming from behind me.
…
Wasn’t I warned about turning around on the basement stairs?
Breath held, I pressed forward.
Slowly, I felt a headache beginning to creep in.
Reaching the corridor on the third floor, I turned around.
Nothing was there.
Understanding what’s happening was becoming increasingly difficult. I sought answers, yet it felt as though the questions were multiplying instead.
What was the meaning behind all those warnings, to begin with?
There were virtually no other rooms on the third floor. Reaching the end of the corridor, I found a flashlight hanging on the wall along with a massive door.
Could this be the storeroom? Right, it said not to turn on the lights there.
I opened the storeroom door and, adhering to the warning, disregarded the light switch and scoured the space with my flashlight.
It was a typical storeroom—a place filled with stacks of clean A4 paper, printer supplies, spare chairs, and tables. An area anyone would head to when something ran out in the office.
After rummaging for nearly 20 minutes, there was still nothing remarkable to find. No people, nothing noteworthy.
…
In essence, I didn’t uncover anything of substance. All I had gotten from the basement was the sight of a security guard who rotted away in agony while trying to flee from the curse, alongside the piece of paper with warnings.
Had I approached this wrong?
After some contemplation, I figured something out.
Why was I down here in the first place? Was it for survival?
No.
I wasn’t here to survive; I had come down to gather vital information.
Following the warnings on that note and proceeding “safely” was the sort of thing protagonists in horror films do to stay alive.
What I truly needed was the exact opposite.
Instead, I had to break those warnings. To go against them to see what happens, and even if it meant getting hurt, figuring out what’s actually going on was my job. Getting out of here would be up to Seungyub.
Now, it was my turn to die for everyone’s sake.
*
1. You must not look inside the cars in the parking lot.
2. You must not turn around in the staircase to the basement.
3. Do not turn the lights on when looking for something in the storeroom of the basement. Use a flashlight instead.
I revisited the warnings once more.
Now, I needed to peer inside the cars in the parking lot, turn around while descending the basement stairs, and flick on the lights in the storeroom.
Ascending back to the parking lot, I surveyed my surroundings. The atrocious odor lingered, complemented by dozens of parked vehicles.
Odd, isn’t it? With so many cars here, you’d think at least the owners would show up, right? And no matter how warped their minds are from the curse, can anyone really be incapable of sniffing out that pungent stench?
Thinking back, I remembered that when I first entered Room 101, my fake family and I were happily gnawing on raw ducks, gushing about how fresh they tasted. Maybe in this world with altered common sense, even a smell like this seemed downright fragrant.
Shaking my head to shake that thought off, I took a closer look at the cars.
Approaching one of the vehicles, it was hard to see inside due to the tinted windows. So, I bent down and pressed my face right against the glass and—
The sight inside startled me so much I nearly toppled backward onto my behind.
There was indeed a person inside, and the fact that I hadn’t felt any headache until getting this close could only suggest one thing.
There are uninfected people out there!
I steadied myself, took a breath, and examined the interior of the car once more.
It was surreal.
This didn’t look like the inside of a car at all. I was definitely staring through a car window, and yet the reflection revealed an entirely different realm. Inside was a sturdy bed, seemingly made of solid steel, with handcuffs attached.
An unknown individual lay bound to the bed.
Drool spilled from his mouth, and the bed was smeared with appalling signs of neglect. Clearly, he had been tied there for a long time without proper care.
I knocked on the window, but he didn’t react.
It felt as though this side and the inside of the vehicle were in completely different dimensions.
Bang!
I smashed the window.
Only then did the frail man in the car turn to look at me with his feeble, hazy eyes.
“Are you okay? Where in the world is this? Who are you?”
“Hahh, hahh, student…”
“…What?”
“Please call the teacher. Call the teacher for me.”
“Which teacher are you talking about?”
“Teacher! Teacher! Teacher! Teacher! Teacher! Teacher! Teacher! Teacher! Teacher! Teacher! Teacher! Teacher! Teacher! Teacher! Teacher! Teacher! Teacher!”
Thud!
“Hey! I can’t help you if you don’t tell me which teacher you mean!”
Scrape…
Suddenly, the man’s voice dropped to a near whisper.
“They’re coming… They’re coming… The nurse is here. Sir, student, please help me. Let me out. Let me out.”
He pleaded with me, barely raising his voice, clearly if something terrifying approaches him.
This man wasn’t in his right mind. Given that I wasn’t getting a headache, he hadn’t been infected by the curse, but he clearly was mentally unwell.
Normal communication felt utterly impossible.
With a sigh, I took a step back from the car, and just then, the window I had shattered began to fix itself all on its own.
…
At this point, I was well past being surprised by bizarre happenings like this.
Having smashed the windows of two more cars, I found the same situation. Each contained unhinged individuals strapped to beds, unable to articulate their thoughts.
Were they referring to a doctor by “teacher”? A nurse? Was this place a hospital?
Next, I made my way to the staircase leading down into the basement.
I decided to take a look back down the stairs and see what was pursuing me.
Before that, I topped off my magazine with blood.
My site has received a lot of DMCA notices, lol. From now on, I will update the MTL on https://darkmtl.com/.
The site is fast and lightweight because there are no ads yet. However, the theme is different from Cybor-TL, so take some time to familiarize yourself.
Support me by donating at least $10, and you'll have the right to request any novel from Novelpia (excluding 19+ content) using a newly developed tool.