I Couldn't Tell You Who It Was

The third rule: the ceiling lights in the hallways could also be turned on, but we needed to find the hidden switch. The light switches for the hallways were on every floor and were hidden in places that were “out of the ordinary.”

Hints were marked with a blue four-leaf clover symbol.

Act 6

“Open the door! C’mon open up!”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Seogeung’s fist banged on the door several times, yet there was no sign of any people inside. He must have gotten pissed off because Seogeung’s voice grew louder. “Your goddamn set killed a person!”

However, there still was no answer. The poor door only rattled severely from his punches.

Room 306 was clearly that of the production director b*stard, the guy with the ball cap who explained the rules to us, Seogeung explained. He was sure of it because they drank a few cans of beer together in his room.

There was no way for us to know why Seogeung went to the producer’s room in the middle of the night for a few beers. But then again, it was useless to question it at this point. The room was silent.

“D-do you think there’s no one in there?” Raehee mumbled quietly behind Seogeung. Seogeung shot a glare at Raehee as if telling her not to say something so foreboding. Raehee flinched and looked around. By then, the people who went to the other rooms were returning. They were Woorim, Seohang, and Hyehyun.

Hyehyun said with all the blood drained from his face, “The other rooms are the same. They’re all locked and nobody is responding no matter how hard we knock.”

“Is there really nobody here?” Raehee asked, trembling.

“…” Nobody knew who she was directing that question to, so nobody answered. Goyeon’s stylist was weeping against the wall. As silence fell upon the hallway, her sorrowful sobbing filled the old hallway. A strong gust of wind must have shaken the building because there was a creaking sound coming from somewhere in the building even though nobody moved.

One person died and the ones who should be held responsible all vanished with their rooms locked. How should we accept this situation? I could feel the devastation and anxiety in everyone’s lips, eyes, and breaths.

“Move aside.” Unable to sit still any longer, the host, Seoyoon, came back with a chair from the hall in his hands. The metal-framed chair with armrests was in the shape of a coffin and the backrest and seat were laid with leather. Seogeung stepped back, and Seoyoon brought the chair down on the door handle.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

I don’t know how many times he brought the chair down. The metal door handle eventually bent from the pressure. The wood around the handle cracked. Seoyoon put down the chair with the now bent frame and kicked the place that was cracked.

Thwack! Thwack!

The more he kicked, the fissure in the wooden door grew wider. Finally, it split open with a crack, similar to how a ripened watermelon split open, and the door handle fell off. A door with no handle was easy to open. Seoyoon pushed the door and stepped into the room.

Despite the door finally opening after such difficulty, the faces of the people were filled with more despair than hope. Not only were there no staff in sight despite the clamor, but the room was also so quiet one could hear a pin drop. The door opened after much difficulty, but there was only one new piece of information we could earn.

As everyone had expected, the room was… completely empty.

“These goddamn b*stards.” The furious Seogeung looked around wildly, searching every corner. However, the room that looked identical to our own rooms had no traces of even having a person in it since yesterday. The only thing left was the square table with the empty cans of beer from drinking with Seogeung last night. The room was filled with the smell of dry concrete.

“How… How could this be?” Hawoo, who hadn’t said a word since before, stuttered. 

Seogeung kicked over the table for no reason and snapped irritably, “What do you think? These b*stards all scampered off! Is that so hard for you to understand?”

Clang, clang, clang. The empty aluminum cans bounced and rolled off to the wall. There must have been a drop of beer left in the cans because the room was filled with the hoppy smell of beer. Nobody said another word. Nobody suggested that we open the other doors. We only opened one door, but everyone knew deep inside that the rest of the rooms were the same.