We sprinted toward the camping section—almost at full speed. The fact that we didn’t drop the candle was a miracle.
“Hahh… haah…”
And we were just in time.
The high schoolers were on the verge of fleeing.
“They’re not coming back! And something’s wrong right now!”
“T-That’s…”
‘Damn it.’
The agents hadn’t returned for over a day, and the store had been filled with the relentless sounds of moving employees.
Understandably, the students had panicked and were preparing to escape to another floor.
“Ahhh!”
“A-Agent…!”
This was a nightmare.
We led the high schoolers—who were simultaneously crying in relief and yelling at us for being so late—back toward the center of the camping section.
Meanwhile, Agent Bronze swiftly checked the barrier he had set up.
“How much time is left?”
“About an hour.”
Damn it.
“At least we’re guaranteed an hour of safety. Let’s use it to regroup quickly.”
Go Yeongeun immediately extinguished the candle, checked on the students’ condition, and started piecing together what had happened.
…She’s so reliable.
‘Phew.’
“I’ll keep watch. You should focus on getting changed.”
“…Understood.”
While Go Yeongeun was inside the tent, Agent Bronze took the chance to change into a spare agent uniform he had brought with him.
Meanwhile, I listened carefully to our surroundings, trying to figure out our next move.
‘The stairwell is too narrow.’
…I wanted to hope against hope that the store would open today, but counting on something that convenient was bad for my sanity.
I swallowed the sugary aftertaste of the Nostalgia Candy, then distracted myself with another concern.
“How are you holding up?”
“……I’m fine.”
Agent Bronze reached into the bloodstained pockets of his old uniform pants, quickly re-equipping some of his gear.
But, one item stood out.
He had been casually retrieving and organizing his belongings until he picked that one up and froze.
…A white popsocket.
A label was stuck to it—handwritten.
Must be delivered
It reminded me of the Memorial Popsocket.
It looked like something from the Disaster Management Bureau.
“Agent, that’s…”
“……”
Agent Bronze silently stared at it for a moment.
Then, without a word, he tucked it into his new uniform and muttered.
“It belonged to another agent. I found it… in the supply warehouse.”
And from his tone, I realized.
‘…There were other agents in the warehouse.’
Most likely, he had taken it from a fellow agent’s corpse, one that had been ‘stored’ in the supply warehouse for a long time.
Now fully dressed, Agent Bronze looked up and met my gaze.
Then, he asked in a low, quiet voice,
“Did you enter the supply warehouse?”
“……”
I shook my head.
For a brief moment, relief flickered across his face.
“You did well. From now on, avoid places that ‘feel wrong’. Human instinct is surprisingly useful in dealing with supernatural phenomena.”
“……”
What the hell was inside that warehouse?
I didn’t know the details, but the <Dark Exploration Records> had given me enough descriptions to guess.
‘…Dozens of dying people, processed into ‘supplies’, rotting and mutating inside.’
I forced myself not to imagine it and changed the subject.
“So, what does that item do?”
If it was useful, Agent Bronze would have mentioned it already.
And sure enough, his expression darkened slightly.
“…It ensures a guaranteed transmission of an emergency rescue request to the Disaster Management Bureau.”
“……”
Ah.
“It’s an attachment for a smartphone. I thought maybe I could send out a message from here, but… it seems like it only works if the user is designated as a rescue target.”
So it was specifically designed to function only for missing persons.
‘…That agent must have been carrying it to give to someone else.’
Under normal circumstances, it was an invaluable item.
But here—where it didn’t recognize us as ‘rescue targets’—it was useless.
I couldn’t even begin to imagine what Agent Bronze had gone through, enduring inside that warehouse.
“Um, are you done changing?”
“…! Yes.”
Go Yeongeun stepped out of the tent.
“Agent Bronze, I think you should talk to the students. They already know you’re the highest-ranking agent here.”
“……”
After a brief nod, Agent Bronze entered the tent.
With a deep sigh, Go Yeongeun sat down beside me.
“…How are the students holding up?”
“They’re alright. Now that all the agents have returned and even managed a rescue, their morale has skyrocketed.”
…Because they still didn’t realize we would have to flee this tent section right away.
Huu.
Both Go Yeongeun and I sighed at the same time.
“I really hope the store reopens today.”
“…Yeah.”
Please, please.
I agreed wholeheartedly, slumping down.
“I mean, it was running just fine when we first entered, but how many days has it been closed now…?”
Exactly.
Every word hit home.
‘It was open when we arrived…’
…
…
Wait a minute.
“G-Grapes?”
I shot up from my seat and sprinted toward the tent.
Then, I threw open the entrance.
“Agent!”
Agent Bronze and the high schoolers looked up at me in shock.
“That emergency request item—can we use it right now?”
“Huh?”
Agent Bronze stared at me, momentarily confused, but soon, with a surprising amount of patience, he answered,
“The item itself is functional, but agents can’t use it.”
“What if one of the students uses it?”
“Duplicate requests… are deprioritized compared to the first report.”
The high schoolers flinched.
Right. They had been the ones who sent out the initial request, which was why we entered this damn Looky Mart in the first place.
But.
“There’s one more student.”
“……!”
I thought of the student still lying blankly in the other tent.
The friend of these high schoolers, the one Agent Bronze had found.
The missing person who had never sent a rescue request to the Disaster Management Bureau.
“Calm yourself, Agent.”
Agent Bronze spoke gently, as if trying to steady me.
“This device only allows for a 33-character message, and detailed explanations are impossible.”
“That’s fine.”
I wasn’t planning to explain our situation with it.
“The student can request rescue however they see fit. …As long as they do that, then.”
If my theory was correct.
I swallowed hard.
“…The supermarket will open today.”
“…!!”
