I Became a Monster in a T*ash Game

The new lodgings in Jaegang District were pitch-black with the lights off.
In that small inner room, not even faint moonlight filtered in. At midnight it was so quiet you could hear a mouse die—truly a space cut off from the world.
Muhae called it a dorm rather than a home. As if merely passing through, he didn’t move many belongings.
After their first night in Jaegang, however, a small night-light appeared in the dorm. Without it, day or night, you couldn’t see an inch in front of you.
Of course, that didn’t apply ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) to Joo-o. He could distinguish objects even in total darkness.
He heard the old building’s creaks, detected every drip in the makeshift bathroom—took it all in and processed it.
So when Muhae turned off the night-light and fell asleep, Joo-o would stare at him unblinking for hours.
At other times, Muhae’s brow would twitch if Joo-o stared too long, but in the dark, he never realized someone was watching.
Odd as it seemed, Muhae—keenly perceptive—usually didn’t notice Joo-o’s gaze.
Joo-o found this immensely satisfying. For the first time in his human form, he could watch Muhae all night long.
It felt like a reward for advancing the story. At least, until he had the strange dream….
“……!”
Joo-o’s fingers twitched, and at dawn his eyes flew open. In the pitch black, his pupils swelled as if ready to swallow the irises whole.
His heart pounded wildly, his mind frozen. He did not breathe, hands trembling so violently he froze in place.
He’d dreamed—a most bizarre, unsettling dream. In it, he sat before a square monitor.
All around was darkness. Only the monitor glowed, flickering light. There was no other sound, no presence.
Just the machine’s low hum. Nothing but the screen.
An overwhelming emptiness hollowed his chest—air felt constricted, thirst pressing, and… resignation.
He could not tell if he was really breathing or merely hallucinating. In that darkness where even the senses betrayed him, he sat unmoving for what felt like ages.
Then he snapped awake—but the world was still dark. His vision gradually returned, though all remained shadowed.
“Ji­­n, Muhae….”
Unaware, Joo-o called Muhae and tried to move his stiff arm.
Then—thud—a warm weight met his hand.
That flesh against his arm beat slowly, thump-thump. Jin Muhae. It was Jin Muhae.
Realizing this, Joo-o’s rigid body melted away. His mind slowly kicked back in.
He lay in the Jaegang dorm, on the same bed as Muhae. He’d nestled up beside Muhae’s sleeping form and drifted off.
“Hmm….”
His trembling hand stilled. Joo-o shifted closer to Muhae.
He burrowed into Muhae’s chest, feeling human warmth, gentle breaths—and Muhae’s scent.
The emptiness that felt like an abyss receded. Joo-o stilled his still-quivering eyelids and focused on his senses.
He wanted with all his might to feel that Jin Muhae lay beside him.
[Quest]
Main Quest
Tutorial (Completed)
CHAPTER 1 (Completed)
CHAPTER 2
☞ The Fallen Reformers (In Progress)
– Scheduled Duty √

– DIY 777 √
– Blue not Vlue √
– Planned Heroes √
– Sewer Exploration
It was the first time he’d remembered a dream. He finally understood that nagging feeling he’d always avoided.
He didn’t know what was wrong with a glowing monitor in darkness—but it had been a nightmare. A terrifying, bone-chilling dream he never wanted to revisit….
“Go to sleep.”
A system window hovered in midair as Joo-o stared blankly—when suddenly a hand stroked his head.
Muhae, awakened by Joo-o’s movement, tapped him on the head without opening his eyes.
Whether it was a caress or a pat, it felt delightful. Even though Muhae couldn’t see him, Joo-o nodded and stretched out his arm again.
Muhae surely knew Joo-o was curled against him, yet said nothing. Satisfied, Joo-o closed his eyes and drew a deep breath.
He was so happy to be with Jin Muhae.
He wished they could stay together forever.
When your environment changes, so does your life. For the first time ever, Muhae planted roots in Jaegang District and faced opportunities he would once have welcomed wholeheartedly.
The well-intentioned—but clearly calculated—kindness toward a “pitiful young man” arrived in many forms: clothing donations from those who saw him as a beggar, and sweet-sounding offers of employment.
He refused them all. Factory work did not suit him.
Though one has little aptitude for mere survival, his mission was Return—he couldn’t give up mercenary work that let him roam freely.
Meanwhile, Muhae scoured the underground hideout, touching every panel and device he could find.
Perhaps from long neglect, or because someone had already tinkered, many functions were lost. It was regrettable.
Still, better than always peering at holos on his watch in secret, he could now study them on a huge screen.
He even unearthed fragments of deleted conversation logs hidden in a corner of the storage drive.
During spare moments, Muhae sat in the armchair, browsing the stray chatter of these people:
▒▨▒▒: I said I’d need it by this weekend
▒▨▒▒: So why does nobody even think about doing it?
▨▒: Objection—I was on a business trip and I’m tired
▒▨▒▒: Counter: I thought you’d already returned
▧▧▒: My take—both of you grow up
▒▨▒▒: So boring
…
▒▨▒▒: You always side with ▨▒
…
▨▒: See what I mean
…
▨▒: Things over there seem in bad shape
▨▒: Better to keep distance for now
▒▨▒▒: Not easy, on their side either
…
▒▨▒▒: All my bio-reaction research is there
▧▧▒: The update’s going to be delayed
…
▒▨▒▒: Better that way
…
▒▨▒▒: While I was fixing the AC
▒▨▒▒: Everyone else was at a café sipping iced drinks
▒▨▒▒: I was here, sweating, breathing stale underground air
▒▨▒▒: That’s just not right
▒▨▒▒: Seriously
▧▧▒: No need for all of us to be hot
…
▨▒: Update your report, please
▨▒: If you’re late again, I’ll lock you in a room without AC
▒▨▒▒: Trash
…
▨▒: ▒▒▒▒, please respond
…
▧▧▒: Looks like there was some progress this time
…
▧▧▒: Indeed. Moving faster than expected
…
▨▒: Could you verify that? You’re better at it than me
…
▨▒: Thanks
…
Bright, sharp-witted, confident exchanges—yet every name was blocked out. Muhae sensed one of these voices must be his father’s.
Pure speculation, but if so, the other speakers would be Teacher Jeong and Boss Gil.
Fitting their images that way felt both comforting and deeply awkward.
He’d never seen his father so vital and alive—he felt like he’d peeked into someone else’s diary.
“Jin Muhae. Not sleeping?”
“Not yet. You go up first.”
“Okay. Then I’ll stay here too.”
Remarkably, besides those voices there was an unknown presence—deleted so thoroughly even the dialogue itself vanished.
At first Muhae didn’t realize it was a deletion. Only that the conversation jumped oddly after a long blank, implying someone had once chimed in.
Muhae frowned, recalling who else in Starry Lane had befriended his father. Besides Teacher Jeong and Boss Gil, who else had vanished from Return?
Had they faced harsher punishment, been erased from existence…?
“But, Jin Muhae, I need to call Gureum early tomorrow.”
Joo-o’s melodious voice cut through his tangled thoughts.
Muhae raised an eyebrow in warning, then sighed and stood.
Right—he’d arranged to contact Gureum before dawn. If he delayed, he’d face her sleep-deprived.
To stay sharp before Gureum, he should rest now. Muhae cracked his neck, the bones clicking, and beckoned to the door.
“Let’s go. Stop eating jerky and get up.”
“I wasn’t eating any.”
Joo-o lied so blatantly that Muhae’s next words stuck in his throat.
He recalled the persistent meat skewers—and quickly banished the thought.
If any remained, they’d have spoiled by now. If they reappeared, he’d have to salt them and perform an exorcism.