Surviving Restructuring

Cheating, stealing, and smoking were the three things Eun-Ho had never done back in school.

Cheating in terms of academics didn’t apply to him much because grades weren’t really a priority for an athlete. As for stealing or smoking, neither ever tempted him, even out of curiosity.

Perhaps he simply enjoyed the feeling of following his own little rules—like stepping only on the white lines when crossing a street. Despite the odd comparison, the point remained. Until now, he’d lived with a quiet, steady pride, however subtle it may have appeared.

Flap!

“Hyungnim! What are you looking at?” asked Jae-Hyuk.

“A cheat sheet,” Eun-Ho replied.

“Oh, cheat sheet. Wait, what?!”

However, that pride was meaningless when his life was on the line. Eun-Ho continued to look through the Sector 13 Restructuring Efficiency Plan: Entrance Exam Project by District.

“... Therefore, based on the topographical features of the region, we propose the following trial.”

Flap!

“[Shadow Path]

- Summary: Move to a designated safe zone with limited visibility. Tests survival instincts, reflexes, and individual combat capability.

- Difficulty: Mid-High to Very High. Varies based on defensive setup.”

The proposal he had stolen from the low-tier ghosts was pure gold. Getting advanced intel on the entrance exam’s format and objectives wasn’t just cheating.

“It’s like leaking the test questions,” Eun-Ho muttered.

“Huh?” said Jae-Hyuk, who paused mid-shovel, glancing up.

“Ah, nothing.” Eun-Ho waved it off and grabbed a shovel too.

Thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk...

The only sound that echoed through the pitch-black summit of Namsan was the rhythmic digging of shovels.

“Aren’t you tired? We’ve been digging a lot today,” Eun-Ho said.

“I’m fine, Hyungnim!” Jae-Hyuk answered brightly.

Technically, they weren’t digging dirt, but a mound of rocks.

“But are you sure something’s actually buried here?” Jae-Hyuk asked.

“Well... That’s what the rumor says.”

“Rumor? Seriously?” Jae-Hyuk cluelessly tilted his head, but kept digging anyway.

It wasn’t surprising because the rumor hadn’t come from their world, but from inside the Company.

“... It’s said that artifacts with special powers are sometimes hidden inside these ancient relics. One example is the beacon tower restored on the peak of Sector ROK-105. Legend has it that buried beneath it lies an artifact that controls fire.”

Long ago, beacon fires were lit across regions to signal danger, all converging at Namsan—the final relay point. Most importantly, there was a possibility that an artifact capable of manipulating fire was buried underneath them.

Thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk...

“We really do look like grave robbers, don’t we?” Jae-Hyuk said with a cheerful grin as he tore into the stone base beneath the rebuilt tower.

He wasn’t wrong. From cheating to outright looting, it was kind of hilarious how far they had fallen.

Eun-Ho was just about to laugh when his shovel struck something solid.

Clack!

He hurriedly swept the dirt away, praying it was not just a tree root.

[You have acquired the Capital Beacon Torch!]

A long, angular wooden shaft, thicker than his arm, emerged from the ground. Despite being buried for who knows how many centuries, it appeared completely intact.

They had finally found the artifact of Namsan.

[Capital Beacon Torch]

- A torch buried for 500 years beneath the central beacon tower.

- Can emit either flame or smoke, lasting up to one hour.

- Note: Wide-area usage requires sufficient fuel. Use with caution.

So, we can choose between fire and smoke just like the old signal system of smoke for day, and fire for night, Eun-Ho thought.

That explained the torch’s dual function. Besides, now, it was theirs.

They’d come to find the torch for tomorrow’s trial, but honestly? Eun-Ho figured it could come in handy even beyond that. After all, even for something as basic as cooking, fire was essential.

“Hyungnim! Is this the item you were looking for?” Jae-Hyuk asked excitedly.

“Yeah. It’s a torch. Says we can light it up with either fire or smoke, whenever we want.”

Curious, Eun-Ho gripped the torch tightly to test it out, and system messages appeared in front of him.

[Would you like to activate the Capital Beacon Torch?]

[Choose between Beacon Fire and Beacon Smoke.]

“Let’s see... Smoke would be Beacon Smoke,” he muttered.

The moment he spoke the word, a thin stream of smoke rose from the bundle of straw tied around the torch’s head.

Fsshhhhh...

A long shaft and smoke without flame looked oddly familiar.

“This thing kind of looks like—”

“A wooden cigarette, Hyungnim!” Jae-Hyuk blurted out with a grin.

“Haa...”

For some reason, Eun-Ho felt like he had just done something he wasn’t supposed to. Sighing, he quickly stored the torch back into his inventory.

Jae-Hyuk’s face lit up with relief. “So, we’re done here, right, Hyungnim? Let’s head back!”

“Yeah. We’re done,” Eun-Ho said.

He glanced around the desolate, eerie mountain with satisfaction.

“Right? Whew, thank goodness! Honestly, when you asked me to come along, I thought we would have to hike deep into the forest or something!”

Jae-Hyuk let out a long sigh of relief and burst into a hearty laugh. However, Eun-Ho wasn’t laughing.

“I mean, seriously. Heading into the woods at this hour? No way, right?!”

“Well... actually, we kind of have to,” Eun-Ho said calmly.

“... I’m sorry, what?”

They weren’t finished yet because they still needed one more thing.

“We need firewood to use this properly.”

“F-firewood? Where the heck are we supposed to get that?”

Eun-Ho tilted his head toward the woods. “There’s tons of it. Over there.”

“You don’t mean... You’re not seriously saying we’re going into the forest at this time of night, are you?”

Eun-Ho remained silent.

“Hyungniiim...?”

Jae-Hyuk’s pupils started to tremble with panic as he waited for an answer. Eun-Ho looked away, feeling just a little bit guilty.

Tap. Tap.

He gave Jae-Hyuk a couple of sympathetic pats on the shoulder and started walking.

“Come on. Let’s go gather some wood.”

Thud!

Jae-Hyuk’s shovel slipped from his hands and hit the ground with a heavy clunk.

***

It was 8:40 AM.

“Eun-Ho, you look exhausted. Are you okay?” Ji-Eun asked.

“I’m fine. You all slept well, I hope?”

Last night, Eun-Ho had only brought Jae-Hyuk along. It had been physically taxing, sure, but he didn’t want to attract unnecessary attention.

“We did!”

“We slept great.”

Everyone had scattered throughout the tower, setting up camp in movie theaters or tucked-away corners of the food court. However, now, people were slowly gathering at the pavilion in front of Namsan Tower as if they’d planned it.

“They’re all here,” Eun-Ho commented.

“Yeah. Looks like it,” Ji-Eun replied.

Most likely, it was because of the arrow. Floating in front of everyone was a shimmering arrow, like the glowing wayfinders plastered across the ground at a college festival. It blinked, pointing right at the pavilion.

“Today’s start feels a little different, huh?”

“Yeah. Gives me the creeps,” said Sol-Ah, scrunching her brow in response to Yeo-Jin’s comment.

Just then, the clock struck 8:50 AM.

Instead of the usual calm, neutral system announcement, an annoyingly perky voice burst forth, bright and bouncy, like the sound of pigtails swishing with every chipper step.

“Long time no see!” The Administrator was back. “Everyone here’s got such cheerful little faces. Why’s that, I wonder?”

“The survival rate is unusually high, it seems.”

Beside her stood a tall man in a jet-black suit, completely unreadable.

“Eun-Ho, who’s that guy with her?” Ji-Eun whispered.

Eun-Ho didn’t answer right away as he had no clue. However, if he had to guess, the guy was probably a Bureau of Management’s employee, responsible for trials and Subjects for the restructuring process.

“Hmm. You’re right. The survival rate really is too high thanks to someone smart.”

Huh?

Her gaze seemed to linger directly on Eun-Ho.

Is she talking about me?

“Anyway! Let’s keep it short. We’re on a tight schedule, so listen up.”

Fifty-three people stood in silence. No one made a sound—just shallow breathing and the occasional nervous swallow. All that tension seemed to funnel toward the girl with the pigtails.

“We’re about to begin the company Entrance Exam.”

“An exam?” Yeo-Jin mumbled under her breath.

Sol-Ah frowned. Both of them were still in high school, so their reactions were automatic.

Of course, this Exam would be far more dangerous, intense and desperate than any school exam. After all, no one ever died for failing a test in high school.

It wasn’t just the teenage girls who looked unhappy.

“An entrance exam? Seriously?”

“How many people are you planning to cut this time...?”

Two men near the back, who seemed like regular employees, grumbled quietly. They were the same ones who had helped Jae-Hyuk dig during the Hunt trial.

“What’s that? You don’t like it?” The Administrator tilted her head cutely, like she genuinely didn’t understand the problem.

Emboldened, the two men raised their voices.

“Of course we don’t!”

“We’ve already done enough, haven’t we?!”

“All right, then. You two are exempt.”

“Wait. Really?!”

“T-thank you!”

These guys must’ve grown up in a bubble. They’re so naive that it’s almost impressive, Eun-Ho thought.

“I can just delete you.”

“Exactly! Just delete—Wait, what?”

The Administrator raised one thin finger and pointed it at them.

Shhhk.

Even without sharp intuition or a keen eye for people, Eun-Ho knew what would happen next. He had seen it before.

Back at MS Tower, the first time he had ever seen the Administrator in person, someone had tried talking back. It was the cleaning lady and she said one wrong thing.

“Who was the clever one?”

“Why are you interfering then? Huh?”

“I-I just thought...”

That woman’s head had been sliced off cleanly.

“Lady Harona,” Choi Seung called out.

“Well, that works. Too many people was a pain anyway.”

Eun-Ho couldn’t step forward back then, but this time was different. He was ready.

“Wait,” Eun-Ho said.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Eun-Ho walked forward with calm and deliberate steps, pretending to be unfazed. He positioned himself between the Administrator and the two clueless men, blocking her line of sight.

Then, as if making casual conversation, he said, “It’s already 9 o’clock.”

He said it plainly, almost cheerfully, like a polite morning remark.

“Subject Lee Eun-Ho?”

The Administrator, who had been just about to slice downward with a single finger, paused and looked his way instead. Her head tilted in curiosity.

He jumped in before that finger had a chance to redirect toward his neck.

“You two,” he said to the trembling men behind him. “You’re going to take the exam, right?”

“Y-yes!”

“We are! Absolutely!”

Maybe they weren’t completely hopeless. Maybe, just maybe, they realized instinctively that Eun-Ho was their only lifeline. They were nodding so fast, it looked like their necks could snap.

Good. Consent from the Subjects has been secured, Eun-Ho thought.

“Haaa...”

Harona stared at him with suspicion. However, there was no need for Eun-Ho to give a long explanation or plead.

“It’s ten seconds to nine,” Eun-Ho added.

If there was one thing this so-called “Company” valued above all else—whether it was a report, a proposal, or just a routine meeting—it was punctuality. If they didn’t start now, they were going to be late.

“Please begin the exam,” said Eun-Ho.

“Subject Lee Eun-Ho... You’re really something.”

She seemed ready to continue that thought, but the man beside her cut in before she could say more.

“Lady Harona. It’s time.”

It was 9:00 AM and as the minute hand clicked into place, the official start time, the trial began.

[A new project Aptitude Assessment has begun.]

[By the Administrator’s authority, the Eye is now open.]

It was time for the long-awaited Aptitude Assessment, the one that had been hyped up so thoroughly in all those internal reports.

[You have ten minutes.]

[All surviving participants, please proceed to your designated area.]

“Where is it?!”

“Wait!”

“The Namsan Tunnel! That’s it!”

It was the same place Eun-Ho had scouted out earlier, thanks to those creepy twin ghosts.

“Hyungnim! It’s really the tunn—”

“Shh. Let’s go, Jae-Hyuk.”

“Ah. Yes, sir!”

***

Thump. Thump.

The sound of fifty three people running down a mountain trail echoed through the early morning air.

Everyone moved quickly, some ahead, some behind, but no one was trying to push past the others. Not because they had suddenly rediscovered their faith in humanity, but simply because they had time.

“We have plenty of time left, huh?”

“Looks like this’ll be a breeze!”

“Daddy, put me down! I wanna walk!”

“No, Yul. See that road up there? I’ll put you down when we get there, okay? We’re almost there.”

The road ahead was littered with the remains of traffic accidents. Twisted cars lined the wide street but oddly, there were no injured drivers or bodies. There was no one at all.

“There it is!”

“There’s the tunnel! That’s the one, right?”

There was Namsan Tunnel No. 3, once connecting Itaewon and the Sogong District. No cars passed through it now but only a flickering sign of “Caution: Accident” at the entrance remained.

Beyond it, deep inside the tunnel, a faint green glow pulsed in the dark.

“Everyone get inside the tunnel!”

“Yes, Hyungnim!”

Clack!

As they crossed into the tunnel, the echo changed. The space swallowed their footsteps and threw them back, louder and harsher.

Clack! Clack-clack! Clack-clack!

With each person entering, the sound grew louder.

Clack-clack! Clack-clack! Clack-clack! Clack-clack! Clack-clack! Clack-clack!

There were so many overlapping steps that it was impossible to tell which one was their own.

“Huff... Huff...”

“You’re already out of breath?”

A woman, gasping and struggling, was the last to step into the tunnel. With that, all fifty three participants were inside.

[All survivors in the Namsan district have entered.]

[A safe zone has been generated.]

“What?!”

“A safe zone? Not this place?”

“Wait, it’s not over yet?!”

As whispers spread through the group, another announcement echoed overhead.

[By the Administrator’s authority, the Arena is now open.]

The real test was about to begin. Every light in the tunnel blinked out all at once.

Fwoosh!

In a second, everything went dark. There wasn’t a single beam of light, nor even a glimmer, as if the tunnel had never been lit at all.

[You have ten minutes.]

[The trial Shadow Path is starting.]

Now the real aptitude test, Shadow Path, begins.