Zone 9.
Situated on the far edge of the city, the district marked the industrial zone, filled with sprawling factories and warehouses. Thick plumes of dark smoke drifted through the air, casting a hazy shadow over the worn streets below.
’I should be close.’
I looked at the compass in my hands.
It pointed towards the east side, and I followed the direction it pointed.
The large backpack pressed heavily against my shoulders, though the weight was more noticeable than bothersome.
Taking out my phone, I looked at the screen.
"He still hasn’t replied."
Ever since discovering the note on his cubicle, I’d called him more than a dozen times, trying to understand what he’d written. But Kyle never answered. He was busy, but I needed him to respond more than ever.
That number...
It meant a lot to me.
’...I’ll wait a little bit more.’
I continued down the pedestrian road. This part of the city was clearly worse than the other.
Graffiti covered the cracked walls of rundown houses, trash piled in corners and along the sidewalks, and in the distance, looming industrial buildings stood beneath a noticeably thicker, heavier air.
’It’s a shithole.’
I didn’t want to linger here any longer than I had to, and fortunately, it didn’t take long to reach my destination. The compass in my hand began to spin erratically, signaling that I’d arrived.
Craining my neck, I looked up.
Before me stood a tall brick wall, its front gate bearing a weathered, rust-stained sign that read:
[Millwall Steel Production]
The factory beyond the gate was in no better shape. It was clearly abandoned, with shattered windows, crumbling bricks, and wild weeds creeping through the cracks. Graffiti covered its faded walls, a common sight in these areas.
I didn’t rush to enter.
Instead, I sat down on the ground and set my bag aside.
"He should be here in about ten minutes."
Jamie, that was.
I arrived a little earlier on purpose.
There were a few things that I needed to take care of before the stream started.
Like—
"Help me look to see if there are any cameras set up. There’s no need to disable them. Just let me know their general location if they’re there, and see if they are connected to anything."
My screen flickered for a moment as the clown appeared.
A moment later, the screen flickered again, and the clown disappeared.
’It doesn’t really matter if the clown disables the cameras or not. Ultimately, I’ll be livestreaming all of this. There’s no way they wouldn’t be able to know about my movements.’
Still, I had yet to reveal the location of my stream.
The moment I did, I’d probably catch them off guard.
That’d be the perfect chance for me to get a better idea of where they were hidden within the abandoned factory.
’...I sure hope it works.’
Opening my Ranobe page, I looked at my profile.
─────
[Seth Thorne ]
Posts: 5 Followers: 151k Following: 0
─────
While my following wasn’t anything absurd like Zoey’s, it was still pretty decent.
I checked my latest post.
[I’ll be streaming soon]
It was just a simple black background with the stream announcement.
However, it garnered considerable attention.
─────
Likes : 72k Shares
─────
What was particularly interesting were the comments.
There were quite a lot of them.
—Woooo! You’re streaming? I’m really interested!
—Are you finally going to address this entire situation? I must say, I am sorry for doubting you before. Who would’ve thought that they’d screw you over like that?
—As someone who also works for a black company, you have my sympathies. I’ll make sure to tune in to the stream.
—Count me in, too.
—Ehh.. I wonder if he’ll start cursing everyone out again lol. I’d actually be pumped if that were the case.
There were plenty of supportive comments, people expressing how they shared my frustration over the whole Nightmare Forge Studio incident. Many said they’d join the stream to show their support and hear me talk about what really happened.
Of course, there were also not-so-pleasing comments.
Conspiracies started to churn among some people. However, those comments would usually be drowned out by the other comments.
Thinking for a moment, I pressed like on a particular comment.
—...What do you guys think are the chances that he’s the one who actually made the entire mess with the game? I mean... He does work for a Guild, and he also has a grudge against them. I’m not saying he did it, but... I’m sure everyone can figure it out.
’That should do it.’
And sure enough, it didn’t take long for replies to appear beneath the post.
—He liked it!?
—It’s true!!
—He actually is the one responsible for the chaos? Holy shit!
—Wait, relax. It might’ve been a mistake from his side. There’s no need to jump to conclusions so quickly.
Needless to say, that single like started a chain reaction.
Threads started to appear on the more popular forums, [The conspiracy beneath the Night of Terror! A hidden player?], [What really happened on the Night of Terror?].
It was chaotic, and as I stared at it, I couldn’t help but smile.
’That’s more like it.’
I liked how a single action of mine had created all of this chaos.
It felt... nice.
Trr Trrr—!
Eventually, my phone rang.
I picked it up to hear Jamie’s voice on the other side.
—I’m almost there. Where are you...?
"I’m here already."
—That quick?
"The bus came early."
—Oh, if that’s the case, I’m going to hurry up.
Du. Du. The line fell a moment later, and not even a minute after the phone call ended, a familiar figure appeared in the distance.
"Hey!"
Jamie waved at me, his short brown hair slightly messy, barely covering his sharp green eyes. A large bag was slung over his back, the straps digging slightly into his shoulders as he approached.
"Huff! Huff!"
He looked out of breath as he tossed the bag to the ground and sat down.
"That... Haa... That felt like an entire workout."
I glanced at his back, and when I noticed the bits of metal jutting out from his bag, I looked away and leaned against the wall. My phone flickered at the same time as a certain clown appeared.
I looked at it for a moment before turning off my screen.
"That’s what you get for carrying so much stuff with you."
"All... haa... for the stream."
Jamie replied, his breath still heavy.
Reaching for the bag, he began unpacking the equipment, his movements quick and his experience evident. As he started setting everything up, he glanced up at me, a conflicted expression flickering across his face.
"I saw... what you did... online. You... are really crazy."
"You only found out now?"
"Right, you’re not exactly right in the head. I... should’ve known from the moment you did what you did several months back. How could I forget?"
Jamie shook his head and returned to setting up the equipment.
I watched his actions for a brief moment, and thought about helping, until—
Ding!
My phone rang.
Looking down, my hands paused.
Soon, a smile marred my features.
[1,081,941$ has been deposited to your balance]
’Took you long enough.’