Trapped in the Idol Universe

‘What’s this?’

Roy looked around in puzzlement.

The second floor resembled a ward. Worn, shabby doors lined both sides of the corridor, and old medicine bottles and trash were scattered on the floor.

Gwakhyeol seemed relieved that no fiends were present. But Roy felt uneasy—the silence in a place like this was rarely a good sign.

Sure enough, the moment he took a step forward, a red light swept down from overhead.

“...!”

Just as Gwakhyeol was about to scream, Roy quickly clamped his hand over his mouth.

‘I nearly lost ten years off my life.’

Roy swallowed hard and glanced up at the ceiling. Beyond the red glow, another shadow—one not their own—was cast above them.

Shh.

Roy’s eyes urged silence. Gwakhyeol nodded, pale-faced.

‘I think there’s something at the top of the stairs.’

They pressed close to the wall and crept upward. Between the second- and third-floor landings, a fiend stood gazing out the window.

‘Fuck.’

If Gwakhyeol had shrieked, they’d have been eliminated then and there. Roy pointed silently, alerting him to the fiend’s presence. Gwakhyeol’s complexion drained further.

‘I told you to stay somewhere safe.’

Roy clicked his tongue at Gwakhyeol’s needless ordeal.

‘But with a fiend there, we can’t get up to the third floor.’

Their plan was stalled. Roy decided on a tactical retreat and backed down half a flight. While he weighed their options, two fiends prowling outside the windows became visible.

“?!”

There had only been one outside before. Below, the thudding of a head ramming the wall persisted.

So...

‘Do they multiply when you kill one?’

Crazy. He was lucky he had no usable offensive skill—otherwise he would have slaughtered every fiend he saw. Now the thought of smashing heads again gave Roy a headache.

At that moment, Gwakhyeol tapped his shoulder. When Roy turned, Gwakhyeol pointed inside the corridor, where a faint green glow leaked out.

‘Emergency exit.’

Gwakhyeol mouthed a suggestion: let’s go up to the third floor through the emergency stairwell. Even if they dealt with the fiend on the main stairs and ascended, retreating back down would be problematic—and if one fiend cried out, the others would respond.

‘No way I’ll risk that with no solid alternative.’

Roy nodded silently. Avoiding conflict was best. They changed course toward the second-floor emergency exit and moved slowly.

But at the corridor’s end, Roy sensed a faint presence—his S-rank, ghost-like instincts detected danger.

‘Retreat! Retreat!’

Roy halted instinctively and beckoned Gwakhyeol back. Gwakhyeol, who felt nothing, widened his eyes in protest.

‘Why?’

‘Move back!’

‘No—why?’

‘Honestly, if I say go, just go! You said you’d listen to me!’

As they flapped their hands arguing, a rusty wheel’s squeal echoed from the far corridor.

Screech, whee...

Squinting, Roy made out something slowly approaching through the darkness.

‘A wheelchair...?’

More precisely, a fiend in a wheelchair. Gwakhyeol covered his mouth with both hands, seemingly forgetting how to breathe.

‘This is nuts. To reach the emergency exit, we have to go that way.’

They’d lost too much time. Unless they found the key and reached the Guild Master soon, it wouldn’t matter if they survived this floor—falling in the bottom half of overall rankings meant elimination.

‘Should I just smash its head? No—what about my image?’

Setting aside fiend multiplication, Roy still cared about his reputation. As the wheelchair fiend drew closer, Roy pressed Gwakhyeol to the stairs’ underside, hiding. By instinct he pinpointed the fiend’s path: past their hiding spot toward the opposite corridor.

‘Opportunity.’

Now was the time to dash for the emergency exit. Roy grabbed Gwakhyeol’s arm and steadied him.

‘Hyung. Don’t look back—just go straight. Can you do that?’

Roy put Gwakhyeol in front of him. Gwakhyeol nodded and began a sort of bear-crawl up the stairs. At the landing between the second and third floors, he hesitated when ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) he saw the fiend—but when Roy gave him a push, he hurried on. Roy followed quietly, watching behind—he didn’t know when the wheelchair fiend might glance back.

Flash!

Suddenly, something glinted near the wheelchair’s handle.

‘What’s that?’

Roy stopped and squinted, but the dim light made it hard to see. Yet he heard a clear metallic jingle.

Tinkle, clink—

Metal striking metal.

‘No way... a key?’

Damn broadcasters. He’d expected a key hidden in a drawer, not left out with a fiend. He cursed silently.

‘Low-ranked trash can go home, huh?’

F-rank treatment had wounded his S-rank pride. Meanwhile, Gwakhyeol felt an inexplicable chill. Looking back, he nearly dislocated his jaw: Roy was standing several steps away, holding the key.

“????”

They were so close to the exit. What was he doing? Gwakhyeol flapped his hand, calling Roy back. Roy, hearing him, turned and mouthed:

‘You go in first.’

‘Just me?’

‘The key’s over there.’

He pointed at the wheelchair fiend’s back.

‘...So?’

Gwakhyeol stared blankly.

‘You’re really going to fetch that?’

Roy made a circle above his head: the fiend would soon turn that way, and it moved slower than expected—there was time. He thumped his own thumb up, then strode toward the opposite side.

✧

Gwakhyeol could only gape as Roy receded.

‘Wait—haven’t I seen this in a dream...?’

A silent scream rose in Gwakhyeol’s chest as he recalled last night’s nightmare: something in a wheelchair chasing him at top speed.

‘Déjà vu?!’

Gwakhyeol occasionally glimpsed the future in dreams, abilities unused. Unfortunately, this was such a moment.

“...!”

Cold sweat streamed down his forehead. If his dream was true, the emergency exit would be locked. How did he know? In the dream he’d found a bunch of keys, unlocked the door, but then that thing in the wheelchair had chased him and nearly given him a heart attack!

‘No, it can’t be.’

Gwakhyeol bolstered himself and took a step—or two.

‘...It won’t be locked, right?’

In truth, he felt ready to pass out from being alone. But Roy had ordered him to get inside first. With the word given, he couldn’t be a burden. He summoned every ounce of willpower.

‘I can do this!’

Determined, he stepped forward—

Thunk—

Something heavy caught his foot. Cold. Gwakhyeol looked down. There, just as in his dream, lay the key ring.

“...”

A tightly shut door. The key ring at its feet. He twisted the doorknob carefully—

Click—

Locked.

‘Damn it!’

He glanced up. On tiptoe, Roy was tiptoeing toward the fiend.

‘No time.’

If his memory was right, the wheelchair would soon turn. Gwakhyeol snatched up the keys. His hand shook violently, but he forced himself to insert them one by one.

First key—

Clack—

Second key—

Clack—

Third, fourth, fifth—each failed.

As he fitted the sixth key, the rusty wheel squeal stopped. Gwakhyeol’s head turned with a groan. Through the VJ’s zooming camera, he saw Roy holding the keys, a blooming smile on his face—one so heartwarming it made viewers grin. But behind Roy, the wheelchair had just finished its turn.

Through the camera, Gwakhyeol locked eyes with gleaming red fiend eyes and shouted:

“Run!”

“Kiiieeek!”

The fiend’s wail echoed through the corridor. Gwakhyeol jammed the seventh key in, desperate to fling open the exit.

“Kiiieeek!”

And it wasn’t over. The fiend on the stairs above, drawn by the noise, descended. Gwakhyeol tasted cold sweat trickling down his neck. He bit his lip, terrified for Roy—but right now, his task was to open this damned door.

‘If not beyond here, there’s nowhere to run on this floor.’

Please open, please— Gwakhyeol prayed as he turned the key. If he failed again, their team ended here.

‘Come on...!’

The moment he twisted with all his might—

Click!

The door swung open.

“Leader!”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Gwakhyeol yanked the door wide.

“Hurry—”

He couldn’t finish. The corridor beyond was filled with thick white smoke—Roy had disappeared from view.

“Eh?”

...Whaat??!