I Became a Monster in a T*ash Game

“Just today… we’re going?”
“Yeah. Two days.”
“I haven’t even gone to the Gamna factory yet—too bad.”
“We’re not here to sightsee.”
Muhae replied curtly and fixed Joo-o’s hair. Once he brushed up those bangs, Joo-o looked ready for Central itself.
He suited that loose zip-jacket as well as the shirt underneath. Good bone structure and a lean build meant he looked sharp in anything.
“I could do it myself, you know.”
“I don’t have time to let you mess around making hair-horns.”
“Right. My bad.”
Joo-o, declaring it like a favor, was gently shoved out of the bathroom. Normally he’d have resisted or blinked at Muhae’s brusqueness, but today he simply glanced over, nodded, and walked out.
“Sit tight—I’m not ready yet.”
“Jin Muhae’s hair is short, too. Are you wearing your glasses?”
“No. If you want them, you can take them and perch them on your nose.”
Reluctantly, Muhae found himself enjoying the conversation more now that Joo-o was calmer. Solitude wasn’t bad, but Joo-o’s pleasant chatter made the day less dull.
“And don’t use weird honorifics like yesterday. Got it?”
“Of course. I’ll just follow you around, senpai.”
“No need for that from here on out.”
“But you liked it…”
That praise came from admiring his acting skills, Muhae thought, and let the flattery fade. Lately he felt drawn into Joo-o’s words—even when they weren’t especially clever, a casual retort could still sting him into engagement.
“We’re going out again tomorrow morning.”
“Where—to hunt beasts? To see crystals?”
“No. Somewhere else.”
“Sakdal?”
Slowly, Muhae’s gaze shifted to Joo-o standing at the bathroom door, smiling as if such deductions were obvious.

“…Right.”
Joo-o had overheard Muhae’s conversation with Cloud, every question and response. He’d even spotted that suspicious individual in Sakdal while hunting contraband. It was a conclusion anyone could reach—yet it felt strangely awkward hearing it from Joo-o. Now there were no more secrets in the ‘Return Flight’ plotline to hide from him.
‘He’s got an interesting companion.’
Cloud’s assessment drifted through Muhae’s mind. In hindsight, Cloud had eased up because of Joo-o, too.
Yet Muhae’s mistrust soon quieted. It was better to keep a helpful ally than to fret over it. Whether Joo-o trailed behind like a guard dog or face-planted into a gold bar, as long as he helped, Muhae had no reason to refuse.
“Any meat with insufficient gutting is forbidden.”
“Senpai said so.”
“We’re just returning the one bad batch—it seems extreme to send back the whole lot.”
“Any ingredient that touched contaminated meat can’t come in.”
“Senpai insisted.”
As Muhae attached images to the checklist, the watching staff sighed. It wasn’t spite toward orange labels—they were merely enforcing the rules they’d memorized. Already the third shipment had been rejected. Yet no friction arose, because Muhae was the unfamiliar inspector sent on short notice from Central. Rumor had it he was there to tighten discipline, so adjacent zones dared not meddle. Whatever the reason, it suited Muhae fine.
“Anything odd today?”
“Not really. Yesterday’s batch was the real issue.”
“I distinctly remember where I saw that person.”
“…Where?”
Preparing to leave, Muhae was followed by jittery Joo-o. Muhae reflexively asked, then clamped Joo-o’s mouth.
“Not here. Tell me on the way out.”
Joo-o’s red eyes curved in delight. Even after Muhae released his hand, Joo-o mimed zipping his lips. Only once they left the warehouse district did he start bouncing again.
“You know—I didn’t tell you, but more people saw us that night.”
“They probably just saw the two ruffians.”
“I had a different feeling.”
Had it been anyone else, Muhae would’ve brushed it off. But Joo-o’s ‘sense’ now felt like solid intel.
“They vanished quickly, but they were there.”
When they’d visited Sakdal, hired vagrants had hassled them—proof someone was watching ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) Muhae there. Many had trailed them without detection, even though Muhae never did anything flashy. It left a bad feeling.
“Instead of going tomorrow morning…”
“Hm?”
“Better to go at night than draw attention by walking in daytime.”
He’d misthought. Morning visitation would invite another tail. It was smarter to strike under cover of darkness, when crowds swelled and shadows hid you.
Unsure, Muhae flipped his jacket inside out as the hover train arrived. Clack—the glasses dropped. He stuffed the Central-emblazoned jacket into his bag, picked up the glasses, and slid them on.
“You wanted cake again.”
“…Yeah!”
“Let’s go. Eat until we’re stuffed—get that Kuru-Kuru Wich drink too.”
“It’s the Happy Coco Full-Moon and Joy Berry Wich.”
“Whatever.”
Siiing—the car door closed, and Muhae ushered the muttering Joo-o inside. After last time, he swore he’d never return to Sakdal. Yet here he was again. Muhae clicked his tongue and sat beside the still-chanting Joo-o.
Sakdal’s fame outside the formal residential zone owed to a layer-system known only to insiders.
It clearly separated permissible surface services from hidden underground ones. No matter if bloody fights raged in basement chambers, the glittering above-ground stores offered light amusements to passersby.
Gamblers who’d ruined homes with vice, junkies in haze-filled rooms—those dens required special clearance. To the average eye, Sakdal was merely a vibrant entertainment district. But behind the scenes, it pocketed fortunes—twenty-odd regular customers matched the spending of two thousand ordinary citizens.
With its light, carefree image, Sakdal welcomed upstanding patrons until they burst.
“There. There’s the café.”
“Don’t run. Walk in naturally and buy that damn Happy Coco Full-Moon set and Joy Berry Wich set.”
Joo-o’s heart pounded. Muhae’s soothing voice was the best thing he’d ever heard. Thinking of savoring soft, sweet, melt-away cake made his excitement skyrocket.
“Anyone following us today?”
“No… but some people seem to recognize you.”
“Damn… why me?”
Muhae furrowed his brow; the glasses made him look more intelligent than scary. The protagonist always drew attention—yet he still hadn’t realized that.
‘Progress feels faster all of a sudden.’
Joo-o counted days under his breath as they slipped into the café-bar at night. Its dual nature gave it an oddly alluring atmosphere.
‘Just one day? Exactly one day?’
In the game, revisiting Sakdal after completing the mini-game in the warehouse hinted at two days passing before boarding the train. He was here exactly one day early. Since Joo-o joined the narrative, tiny divergences had emerged. Fortunately, the main plot still ran smoothly.
‘Well… that’s a relief?’
Removing Crystal Blue was the game’s climactic, series-spanning final goal. Twisting that mission could raise the difficulty drastically. But knowing the whole game gave Joo-o a thrill more than a worry. He only wondered what new events would appear.
“From here to here—give them all.”
With the extra 300 dil Muhae had filled, he could taste three times as much as last time. Of course, Joo-o—now a thinking Joo-o—wouldn’t actually wolf it all down, but it felt great. After all, even if the amount you eat doesn’t change, “can’t eat it” and “choose not to” are two very different things.