Chapter 7
Hwaae High School (3)
I was deeply troubled.
As I stared at the name tag, unable to hide my feelings from my face, Myeong Haebin suddenly held out her hand.
“Would you like to trade name tags with me, Senior?”
“Are we allowed to?”
“Look at that. One offer from a girl and his face lights right up.”
“It’s not like that.”
Despite Team Leader Yong’s blatant teasing, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything gallant like, No, it’s fine.
Even if Myeong Haebin called me “Senior,” she knew far more about ghost stories than I did. This would surely be safer.
I knew I was being cowardly, but my life might be at stake.
“It’s hopeless. Give up, Newbie.”
However, the safety pin on Myeong Haebin’s name tag couldn’t pierce my uniform.
It was as though the tag knew it wasn’t mine.
The same thing happened when she tried to attach my name tag to her clothes.
After several more attempts, I had no choice but to admit that it was impossible.
“I’ll... meet you back here during the break.”
“See you in a little while, Senior!”
“Keep your wits about you. And don’t cry, all right?”
Unlike me, whose every step felt unbearably heavy, the other three separated without hesitation, as though they were used to this.
Slide—
Clutching the bag of cleaning supplies like a lifeline, I opened the rear door of Year 2, Class 1.
The classroom was silent. Rows of identical-looking backs of heads faced the blackboard, and there was a “teacher” here as well.
No one spoke or turned a page. No one acknowledged my presence.
Unlike the noisy school outside, the classroom was filled with nothing but silence. Everything about it felt wrong.
There’s no name on the empty desk....
After checking as carefully as I could, just in case, I sat in the empty seat.
Screech. Skreeeech....
The “teacher” began writing on the board.
It held the chalk upright, producing an unbearable sound as it endlessly drew something whose shape was impossible to discern.
Still, this is manageable.
It was currently 9:10.
The class would probably end at 9:50, so I only had to endure another forty minutes.
Clack.
But when I raised my head, the “teacher,” which had approached without a sound, was standing before my desk.
—Then shall we have the transfer student answer this question?
“...Excuse me?”
Every student in the classroom turned toward me.
The backs of their heads had looked perfectly human, yet their faces were completely hollow, as though everything had been scooped out of them.
Under that horrifying attention, the “teacher” asked me a question.
“What is the most useless part of the human body?”
“Number one: the brain.”
There are choices?
“Number two: the lungs.”
“Number three: the heart.”
“Number four: the liver.”
“Number five: the kidneys.”
I couldn’t choose any of them.
The answer had to be somewhere....
My gaze swiftly swept across the classroom. Textbooks lay open on a few students’ desks, but the pages were covered in scribbles so dense they looked blackened.
If I couldn’t find the answer by cheating, I would have to reason it out myself.
“Your answer?”
The “teacher” raised its gray hand as it pressed me for a response.
One of its mere four fingers slowly folded down.
It must be a countdown.
“What happens if I get it wrong?”
“....”
No answer came.
“What is the most useless part of the human body?”
Instead, it repeated the question and folded down another finger.
Two remained.
I pressed my sweat-soaked palm against my trousers and wiped it dry.
The brain? The heart? The lungs?
Obviously, all of them were vital. There wasn’t even such a thing as a useless organ in the first place.
But perhaps there was an answer.
If “most useless” meant the organ whose loss gave you the highest chance of survival....
The moment another finger folded down, I answered.
“The kidneys.”
Unlike the others, humans had two kidneys. The lungs also came in a pair, of course, but people commonly donated one kidney and could survive without it.
“Hmm?”
The blunt tip of its remaining index finger pointed at me and twitched.
That was all.
The next instant, the metallic taste of blood welled up from deep inside me.
My vision swayed. Along with a wave of nausea came an alien sensation, as though something deep inside my abdomen had suddenly been hollowed out.
“This is what you meant, isn’t it?”
Through my wavering vision, I looked up.
In the “teacher’s” hand was a purplish lump of flesh slightly larger than a fist, shaped like a kidney bean.
Not a single drop of blood fell from it, yet the tiny vessels woven like spiderwebs beneath its wet, rubbery surface were clearly visible.
I knew instinctively what it was.
That was my kidney.
“Urgh....”
My heart hammered wildly. My fingertips turned cold, and I bent so low that my nose nearly touched the desk, each breath bursting harshly from my mouth.
Why?
That was the correct answer.
Why the hell...?
Even as I clutched my abdomen and struggled to organize my confused thoughts, the “teacher” continued its lesson.
“The most useless part of the human body is the brain.”
With a wet crunch, the lump of my flesh in the “teacher’s” hand was crushed. Bright red blood streamed down its forearm.
I couldn’t accept that.
“Why...?”
The throbbing pain kept me from speaking properly, but the “teacher” kneaded my kidney as though it had been waiting for that question—as though it were delighted.
“Because humans are needlessly intelligent. Without brains, they can’t think, which makes them much easier to control.”
Its voice sounded like an insect crawling through my ear canal and scratching at my brain.
Right. Common sense didn’t apply here.
Once again, I was painfully reminded that I was trapped inside a ghost story crawling with grotesque things.
“I hope that was a sufficient explanation for our transfer student.”
My kidney, now lumpy and distorted as though molded to the shape of the “teacher’s” hand, was dropped back onto my desk with a wet squelch.
“Now, then. Shall we continue the lesson?”
Click, clack. Click, clack.
The sound of its heels receded toward the blackboard.
“Haa... hah....”
Harsh breaths burst from my mouth. I clutched my lower abdomen, desperately trying to soothe the throbbing ache that resembled an indescribable sense of emptiness.
A thought suddenly occurred to me.
What if I had chosen the lungs, heart, or liver?
There was no question about it. I would already be dead.
The fact that I had to consider my current state fortunate made it even worse.
I desperately tried to stop thinking about the kidney sitting outside my body. I had no idea how long I endured before the bell finally rang to signal the end of class.
Ding-dong-dang-dong.
“That will be all for today.”
With those words, the teacher’s body vanished like smoke.
The students disappeared as well, leaving me sitting alone in the empty classroom.
“Finally....”
I stared blankly at the kidney left behind with me. Then I put it in a plastic bag, tied the bag securely, and shoved it into my cleaning bag.
Damn it.
It was still warm.
After briskly dusting off my hands, I pushed open the rear door. Thankfully, it opened onto a corridor filled with the chatter of students.
We never decided exactly where to meet.
Should I return to the staircase where we had separated?
With every step, I felt the uncomfortable chafing of the empty space where one of my organs had once been. As I descended the stairs one at a time, someone grabbed the strap of my bag and pulled.
“Senior, over here! Everything went all right, didn’t it?”
“I’m not sure how to put this... but no.”
Myeong Haebin looked perfectly fine. Though she might have suffered some invisible injury, as I had.
“Nothing happened to you?”
“The sound of the chalk gave me a headache. But the hardest part was probably staying awake.”
Apparently, she really was fine.
She led me to the end of the corridor, where backless sofas and a snack vending machine formed what looked like a small lounge area.
The others had apparently arrived before us. Team Leader Yong strode over, grabbed my cheeks, and turned my face from side to side.
“You look half-dead. Did they make you solve a question too?”
“How did you know?”
He tilted his head and pointed his thumb at Jeong Dohyeon behind him.
“He told me.”
“Then did something happen to you too, Mr. Dohyeon...?”
“He got his answer right.”
“Team Leader, if you phrase it like that, you’ll only confuse Mr. Hanmu.”
Looking troubled, Jeong Dohyeon fluttered the textbook in his hand.
“It was thanks to this. I found it inside the desk drawer. Didn’t you see yours?”
The drawer?
Damn it. Why hadn’t I thought of that?
I bitterly regretted that cheating off the other students was the only idea that had occurred to me.
But hadn’t those books been practically illegible?
“It didn’t look useful.”
“Really? That’s strange. Once I was asked a question, part of the text became clear. Perhaps that was the trigger.”
So every question’s answer could be found in the textbook... or something like that.
This place wasn’t even a real school, yet it kept pretending to be one. It was irritating.
“There was a textbook in the drawer? What question did you get?”
Intrigued, Myeong Haebin flipped through the ethics textbook in Jeong Dohyeon’s hand before eagerly raising hers.
“It was the trolley problem. Do you know it?”
“The famous question where people are tied to railroad tracks and you have to decide who gets hit, right?”
A train with failed brakes is hurtling down the tracks. Five people are tied to the line ahead. If you do nothing, those five will die. If you switch the track, only one person will die.
If you are the only person capable of operating the switch, what choice should you make?
That was the dilemma.
“I know that one too, but doesn’t it have no correct answer?”
“It does in this book.”
I had an idea.
These teachers appeared to hate humans, so the correct answer must have been to let the five people die. After all, that would kill more of them.
“The answer was not to switch the track, right?”
“How did you know?”
“Because the people tied to it were human.”
“Full marks for the explanation too. You’re adapting remarkably quickly, Mr. Hanmu.”
Jeong Dohyeon gave a small round of applause, looking genuinely impressed.
At that point, could it even be called an ethics question?
Squelch.
While we were chatting, a suspicious sound came from the vending machine.
“Team Leader, what are you doing?”
“Working. This is also your orientation, so I thought I’d show you how our team dismantles a ghost story.”
I was admittedly curious about that. Still, I pointed at Team Leader Yong’s hand.
The carbonated drink can he had apparently taken from the vending machine could barely be called a can.
Its writhing logo looked like a crude imitation of a commercially sold drink. Its material was suspiciously soft, and its contents sloshed with even the slightest movement.
Wait.
Had that thing just moved?
“You’re going to work while carrying that?”
“Yeah. Hold on. Let me take one sip first.”
Was this team leader insane?
Still, he had said this was part of the job. Perhaps he had his own method.
I couldn’t tell whether I should trust him or try to stop him.
“No, Team Leader!”
The can made a sharp click.
Jeong Dohyeon sprang forward in alarm and slapped at the can in Team Leader Yong’s hand.
But Team Leader Yong raised his arm, keeping it beyond Jeong Dohyeon’s reach.
“What now? What?”
“Put that down. Mr. Hanmu, grab the Team Leader!”
“Who are you telling him to grab? Let go of me! Am I not even allowed to drink something?”
The can was now writhing as though something were alive inside it. Team Leader Yong tried to pour its contents into his mouth.
“Anyone can tell that thing isn’t safe to drink! Mr. Dohyeon, now!”
“Team Leader, loosen your grip!”
When Myeong Haebin clung to him, Team Leader Yong squeezed the can to prevent them from taking it.
Thick, vivid red liquid surged from the crumpled can.
Jeong Dohyeon finally tore it from his hand and threw it to me.
“Get rid of it! Or throw it as far away as you can!”
“Newbie, don’t do this to me. You should listen to your team leader. Give it back. I’m the Team Leader!”
Team Leader Yong thrashed in an attempt to break free, while Jeong Dohyeon and Myeong Haebin desperately struggled to restrain him.
Amid the chaos, I found myself holding what amounted to a ticking time bomb.
One person was telling me to hand it over, while two were telling me to throw it away.
What was I supposed to do?