Chapter 136: Ch 136: Off Limited-Time Deals
Do you know what it feels like to die from your blood drying out?
It’s an expression describing extreme torment, used when someone suffers
physically and mentally for a long, grueling stretch.
We’re feeling exactly that right now.
A sensation like our blood’s drying up.
"..."
"..."
Three days.
We’ve been trapped in this ghost story, trembling in fear of death, waiting
for our companions who’d never come—without proper sleep or food.
We’re experiencing firsthand what a human being is like in that state.
Did you know that if a person doesn’t sleep properly for a solid three days,
they start to lose the ability to think rationally?
We’re taking one-hour naps in turns on the second floor’s food court, but
that’s barely sustainable. Every hour, our nerves were on edge because of
mortal danger.
’Perfect for going insane.’
Especially if the person you’re with was a minor who just got involved in a
ghost story for the first time.
"Hiek! W-Where are we going...?"
"...It’s been 56 minutes. Let’s move."
The high school student I was supposed to rescue staggered to his feet,
limping.
He’s probably more mentally drained than I was. He’s starting to waver
more from dizziness than from the ankle injury and was muttering nonsense
into thin air instead of crying.
He didn’t even have the energy left to weep or get angry anymore.
’He’s hardly eaten, too.’
Obviously, safe food was extremely scarce in this damned supermarket, and
nearly everything that’s available was something a high schooler wouldn’t
normally touch.
...Like rats or cockroaches.
Things that clearly wouldn’t be considered store merchandise by anyone’s
standard.
’He’d rather starve for three days than eat that lineup.’
Occasionally, we found items that shoppers already paid for but lost—
things that appeared in the food court randomly. If those happened to be
food, we’d eat them.
In the last three days, that’s happened exactly once.
When had a banana ever been so precious in your life?
’Which means the only thing we’ve eaten in three days was that single
banana...’
It’s insane.
Luckily or unluckily, we hadn’t come across any other missing persons on
the second floor, so we had no competition for resources.
It made sense, though. Most missing people...
’...are on higher floors.’
"..."
Anyway.
We’re at our limit.
’The high schooler I’m looking after is out of stamina and willpower.’
Even trying to fill up on water from the food court’s dispenser had its limits.
If this were to go on for two more days, he’d probably be forced to eat those
rats or bugs.
’Of course, it’s even more likely that something else will ’go wrong’ before
that.’
Currently, we got up to go to the bathroom every hour. If one of us would
doze off or collapse and we miss our window, then...
That’s it.
’...We’d run into an employee.’
Whether it’s an employee coming by to take orders, or one pretending to
clean the restroom...
Escorted outside. Reported missing.
Nothing but a single line in an exploration record stating our disappearance.
The mix of revulsion and dread creeping down my spine was
overwhelming.
"..."
Frankly, managing to survive for three days in a ghost story with an injured
minor was already feat in itself.
And to be clear, I’m not an idiot. I didn’t intentionally create this situation.
’I never thought I’d go three days without finding Agent Bronze...!’
Right. My senior agent has vanished.
This is insane.
"..."
On the first day, I thought maybe we were just missing each other.
’Did we spend those thirty-plus minutes hiding under the display while he
came up to the second floor and left?’
If I didn’t have an injured high schooler to look after, I might’ve been more
aggressive in planning an escape.
So, after much deliberation, I decided to stay on the second floor.
’If he wants to rest, he’s most likely to come back here.’
Honestly, I didn’t have much choice anyway. Hauling an injured teenager
up and down floors was practically suicide.
So we picked the relatively safe second floor to wait it out, and I still think
it was a sound decision.
But that guy never showed up.
So from the second day on, I began searching other floors.
I couldn’t do long searches, because leaving the injured high schooler alone
for hours seemed like a death sentence.
But I pushed myself to the limit, even making a crazy trip down to the
basement floor, and still nothing changed.
Agent Bronze was nowhere to be found.
At least not within the area I could feasibly search in an hour.
That’s how three days had gone by.
And then...
’All this time, the supermarket never resumed normal operations...’
This is one of the reasons they urge you to escape before closing—the
culprit that makes this supermarket a hell and lowers the survival rate for
civilians.
The shortest interval observed for the supermarket to resume operations is
one day, and the longest is twenty days.
It’s impossible to know when it would reopen for business.
That’s right.
No one knew when Looky Mart’s ’next day’ would begin.
Sometimes it opened normally after just one day, but other times hundreds
of hours might pass from a human perspective, yet not even a day has gone
by in the supermarket’s timeline.
’That’s why people speculate the timeline in Looky Mart gradually drifts
further and further from reality, until eventually... it’s stuck way in the
past.’
Whether that’s accurate or not doesn’t matter right now. What mattered was
the reality that we’re facing.
We’ve been trapped here for three whole days.
...And I’m starting to fear what might be going through the high schooler’s
head.
"W-We actually came here looking for a kid who lives in our apartment
complex."
Right then, I heard him mumbling dazedly.
"...You came looking for him?"
"Yeah, yeah. He sent me a DM saying he was heading to Lucky Mart, and
then he vanished. So we thought it was some kind of ghost story, and
decided to investigate..."
Good grief.
"But that was stupid. He’s probably dead by now... H-How awful if he
ended up in that blender?"
"...Don’t go leaping to the worst conclusion."
I patted the high schooler on the shoulder.
"For now, you’ll be able to leave today."
"...Huh?"
I had a reason to believe that.
I recalled the record that presumably belonged to Agent Bronze.
An unexpected situation arose, and the agent lost contact for three days.
Result : Rescue failed. Agent returned alone.
If I reconstruct that.
’After three days, the Bureau reestablished contact with the agent.’
He then escaped on his own.
Even if the rescue attempt failed, he definitely tried to save the civilian.
’He must have planned to hold out until the supermarket resumed
operation.’
So statistically speaking, there was a high chance the store would open
again today.
"W-Wait, are you saying..."
"Yeah. Let’s see."
Hope and expectation surged as I calmly checked my wristwatch.
[ 09 : 59 ]
My heart pounded.
Any moment now, when the time changed...
[ 10 : 00 ]
On the dot.
Silence.
"...?"
I waited a bit longer.
But nothing happened.
No jingle. No announcements. No lights clicking on.
...The doors did not open.
"..."
Once again, the supermarket didn’t reopen for business today.
content warning : suicide attempt
’Shit.’
I blinked, a cold, dull shock rippling through my sleep-deprived brain...
"I-Is it over for us?"
"..."
"N-No... oh no oh no..."
"It’s okay. We still have other ways..."
I turned my head.
The high schooler was fidgeting with something.
A receipt. Or rather, the Supernatural Disaster Management Bureau’s leaflet
in disguise. Most likely the same paper he found when he called for help.
’Why’s he...?’
Was he trying to look for advice?
But instead of reading it, he was peeling something off the paper. Then he
tried to put it in his mouth...
"...!!"
I slapped the high schooler’s hand away.
"Ah!"
I pried his fingers open and snatched what was inside. He struggled, but I
ignored it.
"Don’t—!"
...A white capsule-shaped pill.
’I know this...’
The Bureau once included these pills with the guide sheets for high-level
ghost stories...
Euthanasia pills.
If it becomes unbearably painful, please take the enclosed capsule.
We guarantee you a comfortable end.
My worst fear was right.
’Damn it, damn it, damn it!’
So this was in the leaflet he found.
"S-Sorry."
He was crying as he spoke.
"I... I just can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to get put through that
blender. I’m so scared and dizzy, I just can’t... I’d rather die
comfortably..."
I couldn’t breathe.
"I’m sorry. Am I being selfish because I’m the only one wanting peace?
If... if half a pill is enough to kill someone, we could split it—?"
"No."
I gritted my teeth at his panicked rambling, then forced myself to smile
reassuringly as I patted his arm.
"It’s going to be okay. There’s still a way out."
"H-How, exactly?! We’ve spent three days now unable to sleep, eat, or do
anything..."
"We can do this."
I grabbed him firmly.
"Up until now, we believed the store would reopen soon, so we tried to stay
as safe as possible. If it’s not opening any time soon, there are other
methods."
"R-Really?"
"Yes."
It was true.
...As long as I made one decision.
—Abandon Agent Bronze.
Forget any worry that he won’t escape because he’s looking for us, any
pressure that we need to confirm each other’s survival, any hope that we
can get help from him.
Throw it all away.
Anyway, the record showed that Agent Bronze did manage to escape on his
own.
...It’s just that, he would fail to rescue the civilians.
’The idea that he might also save the civilian who went with him is...
fantasy.’
Time to snap out of it.
I decided to do everything I could with my capabilities.
’If the two of us have to wait until the store reopens...’
My priorities shifted swiftly. After three days of stewing over it, I already
had the next plan ready.
"We’re going up."
"Huh...?"
"Don’t take that pill. Put this in your mouth instead—just keep it in there,
all right?"
I handed the high schooler a Nostalgia Candy.
A strange item that would revert you to your best physical condition.
"Wow...!"
The moment he popped it in his mouth, the high schooler’s expression
changed.
"M-My leg— It’s fine now!"
"Think of it as letting it melt slowly. It only works while you’re holding it
in your mouth."
"Yes...!"
He stood up, face bright with excitement. Even his mental state seemed to
revert to its best condition.
I half expected him to ask why I hadn’t given it to him sooner, but
apparently he was too thrilled about his miraculous recovery to think of
that.
"So, the third floor is the top level, right? Is there some escape route up
there? We can get out if we go there? Are we escaping now?"
"We’re going up there to prepare for an escape."
And also—
"The third floor isn’t the highest floor."
"...Huh?"
"Sometimes you’ll find a door that leads above the third floor."
But—
"The— The leaflet said not to go up there..."
That was correct.
This supermarket has three floors above ground and one basement level.
To reiterate: Do not trust any emergency exit leading to a ’fourth floor’. The
fourth floor is not part of this supermarket.
Looky Mart’s fourth floor.
A gimmick that’s practically a meme in the <Dark Exploration Records>.
’It’s a keyword that screams ’missing’.’
Headed up to the fourth floor.
The sentence ends there, and everyone vanishes.
No matter how intense or gripping their exploration was before that, it
wouldn’t matter. It’s like they become entranced, and poof! They’d
disappear without explanation.
All the more frightening because nobody ever wrote why they’d go missing,
or what’s actually on the fourth floor.
It’s an unspoken agreement—even in the case that covered a disappearance
in the most detail, that part would always be missing.
I recalled one particular entry.
The agent who realized the rescue targets were all dead and decided to
challenge it.
/ Start of recording
Agent Choi : So, I’m on the third floor, and I’ve
just found a door leading to the fourth floor.
Agent Choi : I’m only going to open it a little.
I’m not crazy, okay? But we can’t just leave that
place alone, right? Isn’t it recorded that nearly
a hundred people have gone missing after going
upstairs?
(The agent rambles on with personal excuses and
parting words considered to be a will.)
Agent Choi : All right, I’m opening the door to
the fourth floor now. And... it’s open. Ta-da!
(Sound of door opening, footsteps entering, door
closing in quick succession.)
Agent Choi : Looks normal enough, just some old
emergency exit... There’s a staircase... Nothing
unusual... The exit door’s still there.
(He observes for a few more minutes—no anomalies.)
Agent Choi : Great. I’m heading up now.
(Echoing footsteps. Presumably the sound of
someone climbing up the stairs.)
Agent Choi : Let’s see... The exit’s still... Oh. ...
It’s gone now. So I’ve got no choice but to keep
going. Off I go!
(Footsteps continue for 30 seconds.)
Agent Choi : Whew... Made it. Fourth floor door.
Agent Choi : Looks like nothing special on the
outside. It’s just a metal door.
Agent Choi : ...Alright, I’m opening it now.
(Sound of a metal door opening. At the same time,
Lucky Mart’s jingle starts playing.)
Agent Choi : Huh?
(The jingle grows louder, shifts in tone.)
Agent Choi : W-Wait.
(A cacophony that defies description. Deafening
roars, bizarre howls, noise like wind filling a
void, begging, balloons rubbing, bursting sounds,
12 unidentifiable noises, and ■■■ ■■.)
Agent Choi : (silence)
Agent Choi : Welcome to Looky Mart!
Nothing of note recorded in the next 24 hours. When the battery died, the
recording ended.
The agent’s recorder was later found in the electronics section on the third
floor of Looky Mart.
"..."
It’s the kind of record that’d make you vow never to open that emergency
door leading to the fourth floor.
But.
"Don’t worry. Once we find the door, I’ll show you what to do."
That’s our destination.
"...Okay."
Whether because of the trust built over three days or from witnessing the
mysterious power of the Nostalgia Candy, the high schooler obediently
nodded.
"Let’s move quietly."
We left the second-floor food court.
Then we carefully climbed the stopped escalator. To avoid being noticed by
any employees, we even took off our shoes and went barefoot, moving as
silently as possible.
We stopped talking.
Step by careful step, in total silence, cold sweat trickling down our backs.
And finally, upon reaching the third floor...
"Ah..."
Something was off.
Originally, in the old Lucky Mart, the third floor was said to be used for
limited-time deals.
Different themed promotional stands would rotate daily with various
discounts on display.
But what we saw now was...
"W-What is this...?"
That display was repeated endlessly.
An endless supermarket.
If floors 1 and 2 simply re-created Lucky Mart’s past, making it feel eerie,
then from the third floor onward, the space stretched out infinitely in a
bizarre manner.
So far, 3,611 event stalls have been reported on the supermarket’s third
floor, covering an area of 232 km2.
Always confirm your starting point.
If you lose your way, you may never find the escalator leading down again.
A giant maze, like stepping into the mad blueprint or painting of a deranged
mind, where infinite lines of stands and special displays repeated, perfect
for driving someone insane.
On the other hand, that meant it was easier to evade or hide from
employees.
Some parts of the supermarket supposedly went months without a single
employee appearing.
’It’s also good for secretly stealing food or necessities...’
...If you give up on escaping, that is.
So that’s likely where countless missing persons were scattered.
Perhaps Agent Bronze too.
"..."
"..."
"Stick to the wall. If you see the emergency door, let me know right away."
"Y-Yes...!"
We pressed ourselves against the back wall of the escalator and moved
slowly, entering that dizzying path of endless display racks.
In the dim store, lit only by emergency lights after closing, corner after
corner repeated among the shelving.
[Camping Gear Sale]
[Winter Season Outlet Event]
[Housewarming Gift Specials]
[Sell Your Flesh at Looky Mart]
[Spring Cleaning Kitchenware Super Sale]
Soon, the signs turned increasingly disturbing. Each time I saw one of those
stalls or signs, I’d turn away and choose another path.
For about half an hour, we crossed from one stall to another, confirming the
escalator’s location and how far it was to us.
Then, I heard a faint noise.
Some dull, distant sound from beyond the next set of shelves.
– ...
I quickened my pace.
Bit by bit, the noise became more distinct, until at last...
– Huh? Is someone there...?
"Huh?"
The high schooler jerked his head up.
– Who’s there? Need some help?
A voice calling from far away.
"That’s... another person..."
"Shh."
I crouched down with the high schooler and whispered a quiet warning.
"It might not be human."
"...!"
"And... even if it is a human being, if they’ve been here a while, are they
still... normal?"
"...!!"
No way they could be in their right mind.
That possibility was unbelievably slim.
And the fact that they had such a friendly tone.
’That’s dangerous.’
It was scarier if it was a human being.
– Hey! You there, you’re a person, right? I can help you.
We started running, hugging the wall. The friendly-sounding voice kept
calling out:
– If I keep talking, the employees might come. I know a way out. I can help
you.
Sweat beaded on the back of the high schooler’s neck. I kept moving,
gauging the distance to that voice.
– Hurry. You don’t want an employee seeing you.
’Shit.’
Should I try to subdue them, even briefly? But then, if employees really
showed up... Right, if it’s an actual person, maybe letting them get
snatched by an employee before they reach us is best.
Just keep moving... Wait a second.
’That...’
Suddenly, as I lifted my head, something came into view along the wall we
were following.
A metal door.
A green-lit emergency exit. And...
A sign.
[ 3F ↗ 4F ]
"Th-That...!"
There it was.
The emergency exit leading to the fourth floor.
I immediately ran over and grabbed the metal handle. Then, in a rush, I
gave the high schooler a crucial warning.
"Whatever you do, do not go up those stairs."
"Huh?"
"After we open the door and step in, stand right there—don’t move. Got it?
Don’t ever move from that spot."
The high schooler nodded, fear in his eyes.
Alright.
This was my theory.
Agent Choi : Looks normal enough, just some old
emergency exit... There’s a staircase... Nothing
unusual... The exit door’s still there.
’...But once he started going up the stairs, the door suddenly disappeared,
right?’
So, if you put it another way.
—If we don’t climb the stairs, the door on the third floor won’t vanish.
Because we hadn’t actually left the third floor yet.
And if that guess was correct, this spot was safer than anywhere else.
’There’s no record of employees climbing to the fourth floor.’
Because that floor wasn’t part of the supermarket.
So, the space inside the emergency exit leading to the fourth floor would
remain a safe zone only people could enter.
That would simplify everything.
’I can even use the food I stored in my tattoo there.’
Because once we go through this door, it’s no longer part of the
supermarket.
We can stay on the stair landing and check outside at 10 o’clock each day to
see if business has resumed.
’It’s the safest bet we have.’
Trying to escape with an injured high schooler without an infinite supply of
Nostalgia Candies... This was our best shot.
No matter how terrifying the rumors of the fourth floor were, we just had to
push through.
I gritted my teeth and opened the metal door.
Screeeak.
It made the exact noise described in the records, revealing an old staircase
inside.
"Let’s go, and be careful."
"Y-Yeah...!"
We went in together. And to prevent any unforeseen incidents, I tore out a
scrap of paper from my notepad and wedged it between the door so it
wouldn’t fully close.
From the outside, no one would notice it was open.
’Phew.’
That should help us evade that crazy person chasing from behind.
And just as I was taking a breath—
"A-Agent Grapes...!"
The high schooler tugged on my arm in a shaky voice...
While pointing upwards.
"Look...!"
Up the stairs.
I felt a chill and raised my head.
Someone was standing inside the staircase to the fourth floor.
A pale-faced woman with sunken eyes and short hair.
"...A h-human!"
Go Yeongeun.
My batchmate who’s a former med student.
"..."
’...What?’
My brain couldn’t process what the hell was going on.
But then I noticed what she was wearing.
A metal badge pinned to her collar, the official identification for
Supernatural Disaster Management Bureau agents.
’Ah.’
Words from my memory resurfaced.
– Two agents who went in earlier are currently in a short-term missing
status within this Disaster.
Agent Bronze mentioned it earlier.
There were two missing agents.
"...!"
And one of them happened to be my fellow spy who’d infiltrated the
Bureau as a new recruit.
Go Yeongeun.