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Breathlessly, I sprinted through the dark corridor, darting forward with all my might.

The pitch-black hallway obscured everything just a step ahead.

The flickering light from my unsteady flashlight seemed to embody my anxious heart.

All my companions had been pulled in by something and burned alive.

What on earth was that? A ghost? An object?

Thud.

Was it the darkness of the corridor that caused it?

Or was it for another reason?

I tripped over something protruding from the floor and tumbled over.

“Gah, gag.”

I couldn’t catch my breath.

The flashlight in my hand had already vanished somewhere.

Desperately searching for the dropped flashlight, I found nothing.

Had it broken upon impact?

Searching in the darkness-filled corridor seemed impossible.

Clutching my trembling knees from stress and fear, I forcibly got back on my feet and pushed forward.

There were no windows, no flashlight.

In the dark corridor devoid of any light source, the uneven floor made it hard to navigate.

Sweat poured from my body due to extreme tension.

Feeling my soaked back, I slowly continued onward.

With my hand on the wall, I dragged my feet carefully, trying not to fall as I moved forward.

This corridor hadn’t seemed this far away!

Why, why was it so distant?

I can’t see the end of the corridor.

Huff huff, it’s hard to breathe.

I’m dizzy.

‘!’

Patter patter.

The sound of bare feet walking echoing rhythmically filled the silent corridor.

Barefoot in a place like this?

I held my breath and simply looked in the direction of the sound.

There appeared a flickering light, shaking like a ghost.

Something… something is approaching!

“Huff huff.”

Trying to suppress a breath so loud it didn’t even feel like mine, I covered my mouth with both hands, but the sound of my breathing kept rising.

Patter patter.

The footsteps drew nearer.

What should I do?

The end of the corridor shone with an ominous hue.

It looked like the fiery path to the afterlife.

Should I run away now?

Should I return to where my companions had been burned?

Or hide somewhere?

No matter how much I breathed, the air kept feeling tight.

Even understanding hyperventilation didn’t help me catch my breath.

My ears rang with tinnitus.

I was sweating so much that I could barely open my eyes.

I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe.

Huff. Hah. Huff.

*

As I passed a weeping female ghost scratching the wall, an incredibly long corridor appeared.

There were many spots that looked like they had been crushed and broken, and it was a messy corridor strewn with chairs and desks.

It was dark like a darkroom, with no windows, filled with obstacles making movement difficult.

If you didn’t shine a light from your eyes like I did, a flashlight was essential!

Had I come midway down the corridor when I spotted a man stark white lying down?

He was gasping for breath, but upon seeing my face enter the corridor, he fainted.

The man I thought was unconscious wasn’t breathing and seemed to have no heartbeat.

What’s this, did he have a heart attack just from seeing me?

I jumped and stepped right on the man.

I hopped and stomped on his chest with a thud.

Thud thud thud.

After several repetitions, he coughed and started breathing again.

I figured it wouldn’t feel great if he just died here, so I took basic measures to revive him.

Though he should have come to his senses, perhaps it was tough since he remained unconscious.

Having left the man, now breathing steadily behind me, I resumed my journey deeper into the corridor.

*

The walls were gradually becoming stained in blood, with letters mysteriously written.

[It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. Take me home. Send me home.]

[It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. Take me home. Send me home.]

[It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. Take me home. Send me home.]

If no ghost were visible, this writing would create quite the creepy ambiance.

The handwriting appeared to have been carefully crafted, radiating a ghostly essence.

Except, it was a small boy who was writing.

Thinking more deeply, shouldn’t seeing ghosts make one more frightened?

Now that I looked, that boy’s eyelids were sunken, dripping with blood.

Why wasn’t I scared? As I pondered, it dawned on me.

‘It’s a ghost!’ I had trivialized it, yet subconsciously sensed it.

These beings were also objects.

This boy and the crying woman at the entrance were indeed objects too.

In truth, it must be hard for an object to find another object frightening.

Noticing that I was still staring at the boy writing, he vanished through the wall.

The eerie letters scrawled on the wall disappeared with him.

From my perspective, this dilapidated building was practically a house of ghosts.

Next time, I hope they prepare an attraction focusing on those who can see ghosts.

Pat pat.

Inside the deserted building, the sound of something running echoed.

Searching for the source, I found a small girl ghost scuffling around in an empty room.

Upon spotting me, the girl ghost gasped in surprise and fled through the wall.

This abandoned building was quite the interesting attraction, but the lack of concealment was its problem.

As I continued, a man approached stealthily.

When he got closer, mumbled incomprehensible sounds came from him, but when I turned, he drifted away.

His mumbling stemmed from the scarf wrapped around his tongue.

Why was he wearing such a scarf?

As I continued digging deeper, I arrived at what seemed to be the main attraction.

The pungent, fresh odor of burning filled the air.

A subterranean staircase rejecting light.

Charred masses that had been completely burned, unrecognizable in form.

The ambiance was somewhat fitting.

I descended the stairs slowly, feeling a thrill of anticipation.

Just as I turned a corner, a flaming man suddenly leaped out.

The man, engulfed in flames, reached out as if to choke me by the neck.

He reached out…

Then, meeting my gaze, slowly lowered his hand again.

Though I couldn’t see his expression, he disappeared beyond the wall, exuding an awkward atmosphere.

Hearing a commotion behind me, I turned to see numerous burned men emerging from up the stairs.

Were they meant to scare me if I tried to escape the staircase?

Glancing at them, I noticed the men above quickly retreating.

Reaching the end of the staircase meant the ghost house attraction ended.

I felt a little disappointed.

*

Descending underground, I found a long corridor flanked by a multitude of isolation rooms.

A typical, serious laboratory setting.

Regrettably, the ghosts seen above had vanished.

As I moved ahead, suspicion grew that it was humans who crafted compound objects.

There were many scattered papers, like they had been purposely strewn, but not many were legible.

The tools left in isolation rooms mostly consisted of menacing items like drills and massive saws.

It seemed they mainly conducted experiments using those horrific tools to cut and excavate human limbs and implant objects into the hollow spaces.

A primary ingredient frequently mentioned in reports was.

Golden Horn.

An object that could be melted like gold to fabricate goods.

However, handling golden horns was illegal in Korea.

Due to the fact that they’re harvested from human heads.

Of course, despite being illegal, related incidents continued due to the unique characteristic allowing for easy processing and research.

There were ongoing crimes such as knocking someone out with bricks, then cleanly cutting their horns.

Upon arriving here, it clicked.

The zombie’s golden heart was made with a golden horn.

I continued on past the scattered papers.

Reaching the innermost chamber of the basement, familiar faces appeared everywhere.

The boy with sunken eyes writer.

The woman who had cried at the entrance.

The man mumbling incomprehensibly due to a scarf.

The blackened men.

The girl ghost shuffling her feet.

All hooked like slaughterhouse pigs onto hangers, trapped within mechanical devices.

Now I understood why the zombies’ expressions were all distorted.

The golden hearts kept them bound here.

And beyond the zombies hung on the hangers, a man was firmly tied to a chair.

A fat man dressed in a lab coat, who appeared affiliated with the research institute based on his attire.

He was dead, with wires sticking from his body, so I couldn’t be sure he was indeed from the institute.

I believed this man was the core of the zombies.

It was plain to see that his body was stuffed with golden hearts.

Essentially replacing all his innards with golden hearts.

The conditions for destruction were simple.

[Cut off the electricity supply.]

I stomped on the wires to sever them.

The moment the power ceased, the lab-coated man’s heart exploded, scattering everywhere.

Simultaneously, the zombies hanging there turned to ash and vanished.

What remained were the head of the lab-coated man, and the golden hearts scattered all around.

With this, the Steel Tower incident should be over.

Maybe others would handle the tracking of this wicked organization behind the lab.

Thinking this, I heard the myriad of footsteps and vehicles above.