By Zephyria 
“It seems something has happened.”
“I’m not certain. That’s why I intend to check for myself.”
“I don’t know much either. We exchanged information often back then, but I only met them in person once or twice. It’s just that…”
A shadow fell over Shin Dae-su’s face. He moistened his throat with a few sips of alcohol, then pressed down and rubbed a droplet that had spilled onto the table.
“We don’t talk about the past. Not just for our own sake, but for the sake of the comrades we were with. It’s thanks to that that most participants were able to return quietly to their daily lives. I, too, have endured for decades without receiving a single tip-off.”
“It won’t harm Gu-reum. Once I’ve confirmed their safety, it will be information that is no longer needed.”
“Even with an excuse like that, people rarely touch upon lives outside the Return. It was never set as a formal rule, but it was a tacit rule that everyone followed.”
For someone who believed that, Teacher Jung had quite readily handed over everything from Shin Dae-su’s name to his address. Mu-hae still remembered how startled the man had looked that day.
“I was… a bit of a special case.”
As if noticing Mu-hae’s thoughts, Shin Dae-su added a footnote. Then again, he recalled Teacher Jung referring to him as ‘one of the safer options.’
He had also shared his ASCII Code and provided a contact network, but that was a number used strictly within the Return. For over twenty years, only those who had kept the Return’s Signaler had contacted him of their own volition.
…It was becoming difficult to force the information about Gu-reum. Just as he fell into a dilemma over whether to further persuade him or give up and withdraw.
“But Jin Mu-hae is the General Manager now, isn’t he?”
Joo-oh, who had been quiet since having his foot stepped on, chimed in again. His red eyes held a vivid light under the dim lights of the bar.
Shin Dae-su belatedly gave his attention to Joo-oh, who had been sitting there like a bystander. After staring at him for a long while, the man sighed and shook his hands.
“I suppose. New wine goes into new wineskins.”
“Right now, every single person is precious.”
“That’s also true.”
After agreeing with Joo-oh’s words, Shin Dae-su’s gaze was no longer troubled. He lowered his posture slightly and began to speak in a low voice.
“…The Company.”
“Pardon?”
“They’re likely someone belonging to the Company. Probably. I don’t know the details, though.”
Information delivered so faintly it almost drowned in the noisy clamor. It was something Mu-hae had expected to some extent. Since she had infiltrated the Company as a fake executive, he had long suspected she would have a connection to the place.
The problem was which affiliate she belonged to and what position she held. Finding a middle-aged woman in the Company was as difficult as narrowing down a target to find someone wearing shoes in central.
“Instead, there is a place that was used when delivering items to that side.”
“Ah.”
Now that was certainly worth pursuing. Mu-hae corrected his upright posture, leaning forward slightly to listen intently.
“They probably don’t use it anymore, but regardless, it was in the Jaegang District.”
“If you’re referring to a hideout…”
“A hideout? I don’t think it was that kind of place. It was a sewer.”
“A sewer…!”
He remembered the rainwater tunnel in the Jaegang District where he and Joo-oh had sneaked into previously. Mu-hae had collected the item instructed by Gu-reum there.
He had found it hard to understand why a clue to the Return was hidden in such a place. But if it was a location the Return had used since long ago, it made sense.
“You seem to know it?”
“A place comes to mind.”
“A Key Code was required for entry, but it was discarded long ago, so I don’t have one now.”
“That’s fine. I already have one.”
The Key Code received through Gu-reum lay dormant within the Link Watch. He thought he wouldn’t have a use for it again after that day, but here was a place to use it.
For some reason, it reminded him of the trash collection crew on Starlight Road. People who scraped up everything, from discarded furniture and devices to a single broken or smashed piece.
He felt as if he now understood why they gathered trash and piled it up at home. If you keep anything, a use for it eventually arises. Whether it’s a bed with a broken frame or a leftover Key Code.
“Thank you. You’ve been a great help again.”
“It’s nothing. I just lend a hand from a safe distance.”
“I mean it. It’s thanks to those who lent their strength that I’ve made it this far.”
Shin Dae-su, who had been acting very cautious, smacked his lips awkwardly. Watching Mu-hae empty the rest of his drink, the man rubbed the back of his neck and added one more thing.
“If you don’t need anything else, you may leave first.”
“Pardon?”
Shin Dae-su gestured toward Mu-hae’s empty glass, the appetizer plate that had been scraped clean, and the sight of Joo-oh, who had pulled his hood over his head at some point.
Oops. It had become a habit to move quickly, and without anyone saying a word, they had already finished preparing to leave.
They were truly in a hurry. Mu-hae bowed his head in thanks for the consideration and pulled Joo-oh up.
“I’m going to stay a bit longer.”
He gestured to the remaining alcohol sloshing in his glass. The fellow who had thoroughly hidden his face whispered into Mu-hae’s ear.
“Tomato-flavored juice tastes better than that.”
“Shut up.”
Still, this time he didn’t speak loudly enough for others to hear. Besides, it was better for everyone if this guy didn’t know the taste of alcohol.
* * *
The recent weather in Goryeo City has been clear, clear, clear, and clear.
Though somewhat strong winds were forecast, it didn’t rain for two days.
It was the perfect condition for exploring the rainwater tunnel, and at the same time, a schedule that made it difficult to delay any further.
Thanks to that, the day immediately after returning from the Taeul District, Jin Mu-hae rummaged through the cabinet in the Starlight Road study and found an orange jumpsuit.
“I’ll say it again: this time, do not touch anything recklessly or put your hands in the water.”
“I’m fine.”
“If you touch something weird, you can’t touch my clothes for three days.”
“…Hmph.”
The route they had taken before remained vivid in his memory. After moving without a single inch of error, he pressed the prepared Key Code against the entrance.
As the circular ceiling of the rainwater tunnel opened, Joo-oh put on his gas mask of his own accord, without even being told.
Beep. Clatter—.
“Follow me.”
Splash. Splash. Perhaps because there had been no news of rain for a while, the water that had risen to the tops of their feet previously only lightly touched the soles of their shoes today.
Smelling the scent of water, Mu-hae was grateful once again that this was not a sewer tunnel on Sakdal’s side. Then again, Gu-reum probably wouldn’t have wanted to go to such a place either.
“There wasn’t much here last time.”
“We’ll have to search the places we didn’t go.”
“You said there were surveillance devices.”
“I’ve already memorized everything visible via sensors.”
Was this tunnel always this long? After walking much further than he remembered, the passage widened.
It seemed he felt that way because he was walking while scrutinizing the surroundings. Mu-hae shone his flashlight here and there, enduring the stench that was slowly rising.
“We went that way.”
“It’s that way again. There are no other paths.”
The acrid stench grew stronger, and the color of the water pipe turned black. Past this point, a walkable path appeared beside the waterway.
Memories from several months ago surfaced as vividly as if they happened yesterday. Right. A crazy Joo-oh had dipped his hand into the sewage a few hundred meters ahead.
On the way there, he had seen some unpleasant-looking bugs…
Thwack!
No sooner had he thought it than he spotted a pair of bugs clinging to the wall. Mu-hae quickly crushed them with his foot before his damn companion could see.
If Joo-oh had seen them first, he would have rambled on about mating again. Since he still felt uneasy about certain things he had done, he disposed of them cleanly to prevent any such conversation.
“Don’t you hear anything?”
“I don’t. Only the sound of water.”
Without any significant discoveries, they slowly arrived at a familiar location. This was where Joo-oh had pulled out a robot with a camera.
Naturally, this time there were no strange ripples on the water’s surface. There was no sabotage from Cheong, nor any markings different from the past.
Instead, a tunnel in a direction they hadn’t gone before caught his eye. It was a path that was a bit dirtier, narrower, and emitted a musty smell.
He remembered that at the time, since they had already found the item, they had ignored this place and walked through the cleanest passage possible.
“Walk carefully so you don’t touch the walls.”
He gave the warning as soon as they entered the new path. Whether this outfit was worn more or left abandoned, the laundry was ultimately Mu-hae’s responsibility. At the warning that somehow carried weight, Joo-oh nodded vigorously.
As he walked, Mu-hae once again thought about the shapes. If he forced a connection, the rainwater pipe was a cylinder, and the locking mechanism at the entrance was a square…
But it seemed to have nothing to do with that. He had spent days digging into all sorts of meanings, but no plausible hypothesis came to mind.
It was more complicated because Gu-reum had disappeared at such a time. Mu-hae, walking silently through the tunnel, asked the fellow following him.
“Hey.”
“Yeah.”
“What comes to mind when you think of a square?”
“A monitor.”
That damn monitor. He didn’t know where he’d seen it, but he brought up monitors every single time.
“Then a circle.”
“Hmm, a candy?”
“Not that kind of thing.”
“Jin Mu-hae’s pupils.”
Not a particularly useful association. Thinking he had asked for nothing, he shut his mouth.
However, having gained momentum, Joo-oh diligently rambled on about the next shape without even being asked.
“A triangle is… a wire puzzle. The one Teacher Jung gave me has a triangle-bent shape.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And a sandwich. A signpost.”
“I guess so.”
Since he seemed to be trying, Mu-hae gave a soulless agreement. Then, he found a plausible meaning in the other’s words.
“I think the triangle is the most important.”
“Why.”
“It’s in the middle. Sandwiches have jam and eggs in the center, too.”
“…The center?”
The analogy was so trivial he could almost taste crushed eggs on the tip of his tongue, yet somewhere in his mind, he felt a ticklish sensation, as if he were almost grasping a clue.
But no specific clue sprang to mind. Despite agonizing over the subject countless times, it was frustrating.
“You said the circle was your pupils.”
“Yeah.”
“I guess a sandwich is more important than my perfectly fine eyes.”
“It’s not like that.”
Perhaps because he was being needlessly spiteful, Joo-oh, who had been following closely, suddenly flinched.
Before Mu-hae could ask why, Joo-oh snapped his head up.
“Did you see that just now?”
Then, insolently, he snatched the flashlight from Mu-hae’s hand and moved it as he pleased.
Joo-oh avoided Mu-hae’s grasp with an amazing posture and dashed forward.
“Give it back.”
“Ta-da.”
He shone the stolen flashlight down the long passage. The artificial light, angled slightly downward, revealed the calmly flowing black water.
“Look at this. Looking at the water from above, it looks like a square.”
…Was it an illusion? Hearing that, the waterway extending to the end of the tunnel suddenly looked like a very long rectangle.
Feeling tempted, he forgot to take back the flashlight and pressed for more.
“If you cut the tunnel horizontally, wouldn’t it look like one big square?”
“Then what about the circle?”
“What’s in front of our eyes is a circle.”
Joo-oh drew a large circle with his index finger. The tunnel seen from the inside was indeed a plausible circle, but for all that, there was no triangle to come last.
Unless he suddenly pulled a sandwich out of his bag and started stuffing his face, no other shapes were visible.
Hmm. After pondering for quite a while this time, Joo-oh continued in an uncertain voice.
“The triangle is the most important thing, so… Jin Mu-hae. How about that?”
“That’s a stretch.”
“Then I don’t know.”
As Mu-hae snatched the flashlight back with a scolding, Joo-oh agreed gloomily.
He thought he was the only one, but it seemed the other was also trying to fit everything together.
“At this rate, everything would be a square, a triangle, or a circle.”
Muttering, Mu-hae suddenly realized that he had had a similar thought recently.
‘Maybe they just borrow the meaning they need at the time.’
A thought that occurred while pondering the Sigil of Return. Just as he had grumbled, the three shapes appeared in various records and documents of the Return, each embodying different meanings.
Although it was a result of Mu-hae’s forced interpretation, the square became a certain frame, a boundary, a law, or the land. The circle became a smaller standard frame, a theoretical assumption, a cycle, or a flow.
The triangle was a human, a direction, a goal or energy, or, as Joo-oh said, a certain important object.
It could truly be expressed as anything. It was as if they had been fitted into every logic that could be analogized.
‘Everything…’
While he was pondering, the sewer pipe narrowed, and the path beside the waterway disappeared.
Splash. Mu-hae looked down at his pants, which had been splashed with water, with a disgusted look, and then discovered a device installed inside the sewer pipe.
234 – I Became an Anomaly in a Dead Game