I Became a Monster in a T*ash Game

As soon as dawn broke, an email arrived from an unknown address.
Seeing only a time and place scribbled in the body, Muhae realized this was the “arrangement” Kang had mentioned.
“Get up. We’re going out.”
“I’m already up.”
“Then move your head. Why lie on someone else’s body when you’ve got a perfectly good pillow?”
Joo-o clung to him sticky as glue—Muhae didn’t dislike it, exactly, but first thing in the morning it was a bit much. Muhae braced himself and gently pushed away Joo-o’s protesting weight.
Of all times, Joo-o happened to be extra warm and soft just as he woke up, and every touch was so pleasant Muhae’s mind threatened to wander.
His tousled hair looked almost deliberately messy in an endearing way. Joo-o inhaled sharply, sniffed Muhae, and let out a little laugh.
“We’re getting breakfast. If we’re late, there won’t even be any broth left.”
At the mention of food, Joo-o sprang up. He’d gone without eating all night, so his appetite was raging. Normally people don’t feel hunger while they sleep—that’s for ordinary stomachs. Joo-o, however, usually ate first thing upon waking.
“You want noodles?”
“What kind of noodles?”
“There’s a place nearby that sells janchi-guksu.”
“How do you even know that?”
Joo-o mumbled that he’d seen it yesterday on the way in. Muhae gave him a suspicious look, then picked up his backpack and handed it over.
“Why is this so light? Did you already finish off that insane kebab?”
“…That’s my bag! Don’t touch it!”
“Then I’ll take it.”
“It— I haven’t finished it. And I’ll buy more.”
Joo-o dropped his pointless protest and obediently straightened up. Hunger made him irritable over the smallest things.
In any case, noodles were a good choice: cheap, plenty of it, and no one notices when you eat a lot. Order a large portion and three bowls, and he’d be quietly trailing along until afternoon.
“Hot food should be cooled down first.”
“It wasn’t hot.”
That optimism was misplaced. Joo-o wiped out five bowls of perfectly ordinary noodles in record time, steam still rising from the broth as he downed it to the last drop.

Some madman even applauded at the sight. Not wanting to draw more attention, Muhae hurried him out of the restaurant. After years as a mercenary, Muhae’s speed kept pace—otherwise he might never have finished his own share.
Only then did they enter the proper residential district and visit every clothing shop they passed. Researchers lived off their own airs; dressed like a mercenary, Muhae wouldn’t have a normal conversation with any of them.
Fortunately, the mail from Kang included a one-day key code, so they passed the gate without issue.
“Th…thank you… I heard you arrived.”
To Muhae’s surprise, the researcher they met was overly deferential from the start, eyes flickering with anxiety as though terrified he’d misunderstood something major. Muhae stayed silent to assess, but suddenly Joo-o cut in.
“Who told you that?”
He wore a cheap casual suit and a solemn expression, speaking in a strangely unfamiliar tone. The rhythm of each syllable was a variation Muhae recognized—it was Kang. When Muhae had contacted Kang at dawn, Kang had used that exact inflection through the link-watch.
“He wasn’t asleep, was he?”
He must’ve feigned sleep perfectly to eavesdrop on Kang’s conversation. That twitch in his legs at dawn hadn’t been imagined. Muhae stifled the urge to smack him on the back of the head. If he’d said “Hello, it’s me, Joo-o,” he’d have been shoved aside.
Yet somehow Joo-o judged it better to stay silent. The researcher, still half dozing, shook his head vigorously.
“Ah—nobody said anything… It’s just that there’ve been some unfortunate accidents in our department lately. But as we reported, it’s neither due to lack of training nor safety negligence.”
From the way things looked, some researcher from a Company branch had been called in. Muhae didn’t know the details, but corporate audits weren’t usually this sloppy. Clearly the Company had quietly covered it up with a perfunctory procedure. In Goryeo City, if a mercenary subcontractor caused trouble, they’d handle just enough to avoid scandal, then hush it up.
Kang had the nerve to send Muhae here with no prior explanation. Once Muhae grasped that, he spoke.
“Those in charge are aware. Please cooperate fully with the investigation.”
The questions that followed were so trivial the researcher visibly relaxed: name, age, local restaurants, the time of sunrise around here… He even asked a few off-limits questions and made the researcher flinch, but Muhae showed no change in expression when the answers were obviously lies.
“Let’s keep things moderate. If it’s too obvious, it’ll be a problem.”
At that light warning, the researcher’s lies began to mix with truths, so Muhae moved to real questioning.
“Do you have any acquaintances from Solar City?”
“There’s only one in Seogyeong City.”
“He’s probably an upstanding citizen. How about outside the city?”
“Well… there is someone I lost contact with a long time ago. I only know they’re alive— I’ve received messages.”
True or false, ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) Muhae thought, it didn’t matter—he needed information. What he learned was that this person used to be a Solar City researcher, that it’d been over ten years since they’d been seen, and that they’d gone feral, riding anomalies. They’d settled in a shelter hundreds of kilometers from Seogyeong City, unaffiliated with any human settlement.
The bit about riding anomalies was obviously a lie, but the rest was worth probing.
‘Couldn’t he have arranged something a bit more normal?’
Muhae reflected on Kang’s mischievous tone and glanced at Joo-o, who had stayed silent since opening the conversation, diligently sipping through a straw. His fourth colorful fructose drink had disappeared into his stomach, and he clenched his fist over an empty cup as if resisting the urge to chew ice.
They left, turned down a distant alley, and Muhae paused to think. It was the first time Joo-o had entered a conversation so smoothly. Normally he deserved praise, but if this became a habit, he’d butt in at every opportunity.
“I wanted melon soda too, but I held back. Good job, right?”
Muhae wasn’t sure—that remained to be seen. He smoothed his neatly combed hair. Joo-o beamed so wide his eyes narrowed into crescents.
“What shall we do now?”
“Well… first we should check every shelter within, say, a few dozen to a few hundred kilometers.”
“Do you believe that?”
“If I don’t, what choice do I have?”
“I believe it.”
Joo-o looked at Muhae unwaveringly. That strange mood made Muhae recall everything they’d been through. Whenever Joo-o acted like this, things usually went well.
“That fellow—when he lied, he looked right; when he told the truth, he hesitated a bit.”
Was that so? Muhae had watched but hadn’t noticed any sideways glance. Seeing his puzzled look, Joo-o added:
“About 0.2, 0.3 seconds.”
At that speed it wasn’t a glance but a micro-twitch of the pupils. Muhae knew Joo-o’s senses were sharp, but not quite to that degree.
“Shall we head straight to the shelter?”
“No. Since we’re here, let’s look around first.”
Opportunities to roam another city’s Central district aren’t common. And if they planned to visit at least ten shelters, even survival-specialist Muhae needed thorough preparation. He checked the key code—surely accommodation was covered—and thought of a hotel in Central.
“Looks like we’ll get to use a bathtub tonight.”
“Really?”
Joo-o’s smile lit up his face. Having never lived somewhere with a tub, he didn’t know how much he liked splashing around.
They grabbed street food for dinner. Since they were staying in a hotel anyway, they could have found a nicer restaurant, but Joo-o refused first.
“Too expensive.”
“How do you even know it’s expensive?”
“You could buy ten more plates of stir-fried meat and apple waffles with that.”
He hadn’t actually eaten ten portions of meat stir-fry— instead, he darted around tasting a single serving of various dishes, quick and neat. If Muhae hadn’t dragged him away, he’d have kept it up until dawn. Joo-o seemed more focused on sampling every dish than finding the best one.
When his stomach finally filled, he slumped tiredly on the hotel bed, staring at nothing. Muhae, having finished his own wash, nudged him like rebooting a robot—and Joo-o snapped fully awake.
“I’m going out.”
“You’re going to shower. This isn’t playtime.”
“Of course. I’m not an idiot, Jin Muhae.”
Once again he entered the bathroom without bothering to put on underwear under his gown. True to form, Muhae soon heard the splashes of water play. He could only laugh at the thought—when had Joo-o ever underestimated him? He called him an idiot and dared him to be arrogant, yet here he was.