The wounds closed. Flesh knitted itself back together with an uncomfortable tingling sensation that made Dual-Sword Lunatic scratch at his arms.
"The hell?" He watched green light brightening over his torn sleeve, the fabric refusing to mend even as the gash and wound beneath sealed shut.
"Is this some kind of healing zone?"
Around him, the rest of the team stood in similar states of confused—bloodied, tattered in their torn clothes, but completely recovered from their injuries.
[ The Information Department Healing Zone is now Active. ]
[ Remaining Duration: 3 minutes ]
Conan pulled his hand away from the terminal, fingers still hovering over the keyboard as lines of text scrolled across the fractured screen.
He pushed his glasses up with one knuckle, leaving a smudge of blood across the bridge.
"It's from K-Corporation." His voice cut through the murmurs.
"According to the incomplete database I could access, they specialize in medical technology and food production."
The group turned to face him. Conan's expression remained interested, in deep thought while explaining to the group as if he wanted to see their reactions.
He gestured at the fading green glow suffusing the room.
"There's a term here called 'helapoiesis.' Most of the technical specifications are locked behind authorization protocols I can't crack."
He paused, ruminating the details on the screen. "But given the regenerative rate we just experienced? I'd estimate this is the most advanced healing technology available in the game's world."
"So max level healing potions?" Dual-Sword Lunatic chimed in.
"K-Corp?" Seol-ha's hand went to her pocket, drawing out the green ampule she'd looted earlier. The liquid inside caught the emerald light, swirling lazily.
"What about this 'Singularity' thing? Is it a black technology?" She asked, staring curiously at Conan.
Conan tilted his head, considering.
"The terminology suggests something beyond conventional science. From what I've pieced together, a Singularity represents a technological breakthrough so radical it defines an entire corporation's power structure in the City."
"Wait, wait." BallsDeep69 waved his Kurokumo katana for emphasis.
"So these mega-corps basically run on impossible tech? That's the whole thing of the lore?"
"Essentially." Conan's fingers touched his thigh looking for a wound.
"Though the social structure appears more complex than what it might appear.
"The terminal mentioned the Twelve Associations—specifically, Hana Association's Four Trigrams.
"They seem to function as a stabilizing force in the City's hierarchy."
Dual-Sword Lunatic grunted, testing the weight of his newly-acquired blades.
"Sounds like cultivation sects from those Chinese webnovels. Different organizations, various techniques, all competing for power."
"Not quite. Your thinking is too simplistic." BallsDeep69 shook his head.
"Sects care about lineage and tradition, right? These Associations take commissions—assassination, security, military contracts, intelligence gathering. In modern terms, they're hired guns. Mercenaries with fancy titles called 'Fixers'."
"Oh, so that's why..." One of the other players snapped his fingers.
"That's why the guy on the radio sounded like he didn't give a shit if we lived or died. We're just cheap contractors."
"Expendable labor," Kiana murmured, her usual brightness dimmed. "The City is so indifferent and cold."
"We're not even in the real City yet,"
BallsDeep69 reminded them. "The quest log says this is a simulation. We're probably experiencing some kind of historical memory, maybe a training scenario based on—"
"GUYS! GUYS!" Nora's shout echoed down the hallway as she jumped up when Seol-ha picked up a voucher, making everyone jump. "SEOL-HA GOT A LEGENDARY DROP!"
The conversation died as Nora's voice echoed.
Ten heads swiveled toward Seol-ha, who stood frozen with a voucher clutched in her hands.
The card shimmered with a faint purple light, text scrolling across its surface in an elegant style.
Someone whistled low. Another player checked his own inventory with visible disgust.
"You've got to be kidding me. I got a *tweezer*. A single fucking tweezer. The RNG in this game is brutal."
"I didn't get anything from the mobs at all! So what are you complaining about? Just accept the tweezers, you might use it later" Another player teasingly said.
"GET OUT—!" As they continued to argue. Seol-ha observed the voucher's system panel details.
"Is this seriously a 0.003% drop rate item?"
[ Simulated Identity 0: LCB Ryōshū ]
"It's Ryōshū. Shūre's nice to meet ya. …Pft."
• Sin Affinity: Gluttony
• Base Stats: HP +203 | SPD 3~6 | DEF +56
• Resistances: Slash (x0.5) | Pierce (x1.0) | Blunt (x2.0)
Skill 1 — Paint (Gluttony Resistance ×3)** [1 Light]
"A single horizontal slash releasing a crescent of emerald light, darkness gathering at its edges like ink bleeding through canvas."
• ATK Weight: 62
• Combat Passive: Indiscriminate Art — Deal and take +25% damage
• Support Passive: Hustle — 1 ally with lowest Max HP deals and takes +20% damage
Skill 2 — Splatter (Gluttony Resistance ×3) [2 Light]
"A full-body dash-strike, blade describing a perfect arc."
• ATK Weight: 62
• (I) If target took damage this turn: +30% damage
• (II) If target took damage this turn: +30% damage
• Combat Passive: Indiscriminate Art — Deal and take +25% damage
• Support Passive: Hustle — 1 ally with lowest Max HP deals and takes +20% damage
Skill 3 — Brushstroke [Passive]
"Iaijutsu stance. Two perpendicular cuts forming a cross."
• ATK Weight: 62
• [Combat Start] Gain +2 Slash DMG
• [On Hit] Gain +2 Poise next turn
• Combat Passive: Indiscriminate Art — Deal and take +25% damage
• Support Passive: Hustle — 1 ally with lowest Max HP deals and takes +20% damage
BallsDeep69 whistled again. "That's an SR-rank skill set. That's one hell of a pull."
Seol-ha's fingers trembled slightly. Between the K-Corp ampule and this… her survival rate had just skyrocketed.
'I can't believe my luck.'
She tore the voucher in half.
Light exploded across her vision—not blinding, but overwhelming, like being submerged in warm water.
Muscle memory flooded her limbs.
Her hands moved through forms she'd never learned, body remembering the chain of an odachi she'd never held.
It felt like watching someone else's life through her own eyes.
A woman with dark hair and an artist's obsession, finding beauty in violence, brushstrokes in bloodshed.
Then it faded, leaving only the techniques.
The fundamentals of the sword. As if she had seen a walking Killing Star from the Series of Water Margin.
Seol-ha blinked, flexing her fingers. They moved differently now—smoother, more unhesitating.
"Seol-ha, are you okay?" Kiana peered at her with concern.
"Yes, I am fine, Kiana." Seol-ha's voice came out steadier than she felt.
"Thanks for asking." Seolha smiled at her.
.
.
They looted the Information Department systematically, stripping the storage rooms of anything useful.
"Whoaaa. Loot goblins, assemble!" Most of the players began digging into the piles of trashes like racoons seeing a treasure trove.
Kiana found her prize in a secured weapons locker: a matched pair of pistols, black and white, yin-and-yang balanced as it should be.
[ Solemn Lament — Twin Pistols ]
She spun them with theatrical flair, guns describing perfect circles around her fingers before snapping into a two-handed grip aimed at the ceiling.
"You've been playing too much Metal Gear Solid," someone muttered.
Kiana grinned. "It's pretty good."
The rest of the group found their 'One Piece' and continued on with their dark hallway adventures, a few players hitting the walls a couple of times with their faces.
The next place, they were surrounded by sterile white walls and the fading green luminescence of K-Corp technology.
Once they took a step, the air dramatically thickened like syrup, heavy with the stench of rust and rotting sugar.
The green lights faded in sequence—pop, pop, pop—replaced by a pulsing crimson glow that seemed to move.
"You guys hear that weird sound?" Dual-Sword Lunatic stopped mid-stride, head cocked like an ostrich.
No one answered. They'd all heard it.
It was distant at first, then started growing louder. A carnival music. But horrifically wrong like a twisted psycho blasting grotesque music that violated the ears.
The melody twisted in on itself, notes bending sharp then flat as a board, played on instruments that sounded viscously wet.
It sounded like a calliope drowning in blood, and a soft distant sound of a meat grinder.
Goosebumps crawled up Seol-ha's arms despite the game's pain filters.
Her hand drifted to her katana's grip without conscious thought.
The blast doors shrieked open ahead of them, the sound of stressed metal echoing down the corridor.
Beyond, the Welfare Department waited in darkness broken only by that awful red pulse and the eerie carnival song.
Dual-Sword Lunatic's grip on his weapons had gone white-knuckled. "What the hell is that?"
Something moved in the shadows ahead of them—small, scuttling things that giggled like it was the murderous doll having a field day poking brains and organs with a knife and now they've found new victims.
"Eyes forward team," BallsDeep69's voice echoed.
He cleared his throat. "Ahem. Weapons ready. We don't know what we're—"
A vent cover crashed to the floor, the sound like a gunshot in the confined space.
Dual-Sword Lunatic yelped, jumping back.
From the vent, something dropped.
Squelch.
It landed in a crouch, porcelain face split by a smile too wide, dripping with saliva from its mawed porcelain lips and tongue sticking out.
A jester, no taller than a child, with a body that seemed to weep blood from invisible wounds.
Its twig-like arms ended in three-fingered claws that clicked against the metal floor.
Then two more dropped. Then next, five.
Their laughter filled the hallway—high, breathless, mindless with several more running in the vents which echoed throughout the hallways.
"Hahahahaha—!"
Seol-ha's stomach turned. The worms had been disgusting and alien.
These things were worse. They aped human form just enough to trigger revulsion, porcelain masks painted with joy while their bodies bled and twitched.
'What kind of sick mind designed these? Are the developers okay?'
One of the jesters tilted its head ninety degrees, studying them.
Its jaw unhinged, vomiting a spray of red mist that ate into the metal walls and wires with a hiss.
"Contact!" BallsDeep69 charged, katana raised.
The jester folded—literally folded like bellows, its spine bending backwards until its head touched its feet.
BallsDeep69's blade cut through empty air.
The jester unfolded like a spring, launching itself at his ankles with a wet giggle.
"Shit! Hold still, you—" He kicked it away, but it twisted mid-air, landing on the wall and scuttling toward the ceiling.
"Are you chucky or something—?!"
"They're too fast!" Dual-Sword Lunatic's blades whirled, forcing two jesters back.
One slipped through his guard, sinking teeth into his calf.
He screamed, not from the pain, but shock as a first timer, and smashed it against the floor.
The jester popped like a confetti cannon, red streamers exploding outward.
For three seconds, it became silent as everyone took down the jesters at the same time, however most had exploded into confetti.
Then it reformed from the shadows, giggling, fresh blood weeping from its joints.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" Dual-Sword Lunatic stared at the regenerated monster.
"These things respawn!?"
Conan fired methodically, each shot like a true marksman.
A jester's head snapped back, porcelain cracking. It fell into the ground.
It started to reform.
"They're not undying," Conan said, too calm.
"There has to be some weakness."
"Well, figure it out fast!" BallsDeep69 had three jesters on him now, their claws scraping against his makeshift
lightweight armor.
"Because we're getting jumped!"
While the others fought and cursed and died and respawned, Seol-ha stood still amidst the chaos.
Her hand rested on her katana's grip, thumb against the guard. Waiting for the right time.
"Seol-ha?" Kiana glanced over, worried.
"What are you—"
Suddenly a movement caused a sound from the vents.
A jester launched itself from a pipe overhead, aiming for Kiana's exposed back.
It had already been waiting for this moment.
Seol-ha's draw was faster than thought.
Skill 1: Paint
The blade emerged in a horizontal crescent, green light trailing its edge like brushstrokes on canvas. The air itself seemed to tear, darkness gathering at the cut's periphery.
The jester died before it realized it was dead.
Not killed—but completely turned into a red mist.
Its body had already bursted into a spray of gore that painted the wall in perfect symmetry, a cross of blood and viscera that looked almost artistic.
It didn't reform again.
Kiana stared, mouth open at the sight. The Seol-ha at this moment looked like a legendary samurai like in those movies and anime.
"Seol-ha! You've become a Lightning Samurai!"
"Pft," Seol-ha bit her lips in embarrassment, sheathing her blade with a soft click. As if she didn't want to talk to Kiana.
Understanding flashed through the group as they watched the amazing scene.
"Burst damage!" Conan grabbed a jester by its neck, slammed it to the floor to stun it, and put two bullets through its chest before it could recover.
It exploded into permanent death. "They can regenerate from normal damage, but overwhelming force in a single strike negates their resurrection! Great job, Lightning Samurai."
"Please stop." Seol-ha blushed and shut her eyes.
"Why didn't you just say 'kill them harder'!?"
Dual-Sword Lunatic roared, both blades coming down in a devastating cross-slash that obliterated two jesters at once.
"ORA ORA ORA!" BallsDeep69 hammered his katana down repeatedly, each strike faster than the last.
"That's not how a katana is supposed to be used, you hooligans!" One of the players chined in as they slammed the staff of their spear hilt.
"MUDA MUDA MUDA!" Another player followed suit, fists glowing with some kind of skill activation.
Of course, the players that hacked with their weapons didn't manage to kill them quickly in time so a few of the jesters reformed.
Frustrating them to the point, it led to the players who can't deal instant burst kill to go berserk as if grinding their weapons to the jesters' head even if it meant getting bitten back.
The jesters fell amidst the frenzy slaughter, their laughter cut short, blood painting abstract patterns across the walls and ceiling.
Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty passed.
The last jester died with a wet pop, and silence returned alongside the echoing sounds of the haunted carnival song.
The team stood panting. Seol-ha's hands shook slightly as she wiped the blood from her blade.
Then the corpses moved like there was a supernatural force calling them.
Now floating they began liquefying.
The blood and flesh melted into streams of crimson that flowed across the floor like living things, converging, pouring into the ventilation system.
"Oh, that's not good." Dual-Sword Lunatic watched the last of the liquid vanish into a grate. "That's definitely not good."
The carnival music grew louder, no longer distant. It thundered through the vents, through the walls, through their bodies.
"Boss fight," BallsDeep69 said flatly.
"Everyone ready up. Whatever's coming, it's going to be hell—"
Everyone became alerted as they turned their eyes to the door to the Welfare Department's main chamber, which had opened on its own, and the sound coming from within wasn't music anymore.
It was a loud breathing, giggling, and laughter. Massive, wet, rhythmic breathing from a single massive beast, like a calliope being played inside a slaughterhouse.
[ Welfare Department — Updated ]
[ Ordeal: Crimson Noon ]
[ Status: ACTIVE ]
[ Objective: Defeat the Chorus — Amalgamation of Jesters ]
No one looked at their quest panels. They were too busy staring at the thing in the doorway.
The light in the department was turned on. So they were all able to see what that thing was.
It was a massive, pulsating organ wrapped in translucent flesh, veins thick as cables pulsating across its surface.
Pipe-like structures jutted from its bulk, each one leaking steady streams of blood that pooled on the floor.
But horrifically so much worse were the faces.
Dozens of porcelain jester masks, stitched into the creature's flesh at random angles. Some upside-down.
It looked like a nauseating chimera with heads like hydras with sharp teeths.
Some sideways. All of them giggling, breathing, their teeth clicking in maddening synchronization.
The masks wept red mist. They drooled.
They sang in twisted voices, each voice slightly out of tune with the others, creating a dissonant chorus that felt like hooks dragging through Seol-ha's brain.
"What…" Kiana's voice was barely a whisper.
"What the fuck is that thing?" Dual-Sword Lunatic chimed in.
"Took the words out of my mouth. Is there a log out button here? Mom? Mommy?! I don't wanna fight that weird looking monster!" A player said.
Nobody knew if he was joking or not, but they were definitely all terrified. Even Nora wasn't saying a single word.
What the hell was wrong with this place? Was it possible to quit?
No one answered.
Because the Chorus was looking at them—every mask, every empty eye socket, all focused on the ten frozen players.
And then it started laughing, drowning the sounds of their heart beating rapidly.
The sensations were too realistic.
It wasn't the the high-pitched giggle of the small jesters.
A deep, wet, rumbling sound that shook the floor and made the lights flicker.
"So this is an abnormality…?" Conan muttered with an uncertain look, glancing at the monster with a disturbed look as if he was looking at an eldritch horror.
The only thoughts of the players were… where was the censorship?
The sound of something that had forgotten what laughter meant, but remembered that humans feared it.
BallsDeep69's katana slipped from his sweaty palms.
He caught the katana back with knuckles white from the strain making sure not to drop the weapon.
He gulped before inhaling and exhaling to calm his nerves.
"Alright," he said, voice carefully controlled.
"Okay. New plan. If you guys have played Resident Evil, you all know what to do."
The Chorus moved towards them with all of its hydra-like multiple heads staring at the players with a hungry look.
For something so massive, it was impossibly fast just from crawling by using its flesh-like legs, blood splurging to the ground as it surged forward, shrieking, masks laughing as if it was a clone of the crawling chaos.
"SCATTER!" BallsDeep69 screamed.
And hell began in the boss room.