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B-Flat
-Clack
-Clack clack
The lock didn't open. To be completely honest, I hadn't expected it to.
Figures.
If I'd thought it would open this easily, I wouldn't have died like a dog earlier.
'Then why is this even here?'
I stared intently at the slip of paper. What on earth did the scrawled code '0134' mean? I was nothing but baffled.
Unable to reach a satisfactory answer, I set aside my thoughts. I'd find a use for it sooner or later.
I surveyed the classroom again. Just as I'd found the note moments ago, there had to be more items hidden somewhere in the classroom.
'How many minutes are left?'
[7:37]
Before I knew it, only about 7 minutes remained. I hadn't really done anything, yet time had flown by.
All I'd found so far was a measly slip of paper.
At this rate, I wouldn't escape this time either, and I'd face the exact same ending as before.
I grew needlessly impatient. I scoured the classroom thoroughly to find items.
[Junk is scattered about.]
[Junk is scattered about.]
[Junk is scattered about.]
[Junk is scattered about.]
[Junk is scattered about.]
I opened every locker that looked completely pointless as well,
[It's empty.]
[It's empty.]
[It's empty.]
[It's empty.]
[It's empty.]
[It's empty.]
and rifled through every single empty desk. If I could interact with a spot, I blindly checked it.
Because in games, if you scour every inch like this, something pops up once in a while.
I brushed aside the windows that popped up in droves. Even after overturning more than half the desks, not a single item showed the tip of its nose.
'It should be showing up by now.'
As I was checking the last desk, something gleamed in the drawer gap. I peered inside on the off chance.
[Something is inside.]
"!"
I knew it.
I reached my hand under the desk.
Something caught at my fingertips.
By the feel of it, it was a long rod.
[Acquired Recorder.]
'A recorder?'
Baffled by its bizarre appearance, I brought up its message, wondering if there was something more to it.
[Recorder]
【An ordinary soprano recorder.】
Seeing the detailed description, my head grew even more complicated. An ordinary recorder commonly seen at school. Nothing more, nothing less.
'What am I supposed to do with this?'
Are they telling me to play Edelweiss or something?
I swung the recorder around wildly as a weapon. It didn't look threatening at all.
I'd wondered if I could use it for self-defense if a guard rushed in, but that was completely out of the question.
'The fact that it's marked as an item means there's a way to use it.'
I rummaged through the remaining desks.
All of them came up empty.
The only items obtainable in this classroom were the note and the recorder.
With my thick skull, I couldn't find even the slightest connection between the two.
'Is there a hidden code in the note?'
I took the note out of my pocket.
It looked no different from trash on the outside, but since it was marked as an item, it was my only hope.
I held it up to the light, examined the back carefully, and drew lines along the creases.
Of course, all of them were meaningless.
By now, doubts sprouted that it might just be garbage.
'...That's enough with the note.'
I took out the second item. By process of elimination, only one thing remained.
[Recorder]
【An ordinary soprano recorder.】
The answer I wanted was definitely hidden inside this instrument.
I wasn't saying that as empty words.
I had a plausible basis for it too.
The recorder was an instrument like a childhood friend that any Korean encounters from elementary school.
After all, isn't a friend someone who becomes your shade when you're struggling?
It was more than capable of holding at least one clue for me, cornered as I was.
'Does it come apart?'
I pulled hard on the recorder's head.
It didn't budge. It was stuck fast, as if glued in place.
After repeatedly grunting and tugging at the recorder, I eventually collapsed from exhaustion.
Using too much strength at once made my head spin. This so-called friend was completely useless.
'Let's rest a bit.'
I set the recorder down and plopped into a seat. The front of the classroom came into full view.
The front door was locked tight with a padlock. Beside it sat the class bulletin board.
[Class Bulletin Board]
The schedule, school-home newsletters, school events, and notices were plastered all over it.
It was chaotic at a glance.
It had gotten to the point where the class president or the student on duty should have organized it, yet no one had touched it at all.
There were easily several dozen notices, and I couldn't even bear the thought of reading them.
But something shining amidst them caught my eye.
'What's that?'
The note and the recorder from earlier—things that could serve as clues had glowed on their own. As if telling me to notice the clues myself.
I pulled out a notice buried under a mountain of school-home newsletters.
The moment I grasped it, the gleam faded as if its mission was complete.
[Recorder Performance Assessment Notice]
A recorder performance assessment will take place during next Thursday's music class.
Students, please come to the music room at the designated time.
[Thursday, 4th Period Start]
[11:20]
*Late arrivals will receive the lowest score immediately. Please adhere to class time and do not be late.
It was a common notice for a music performance assessment.
The fact that it was the recorder of all things, rather than another instrument, was suspicious.
'...That's it?'
I read the notice several times. It was far too ordinary to be a clue for escaping the classroom.
With a clutching-at-straws mindset, I turned it over. Then I discovered new information.
It was a recorder instruction manual.
Perhaps written on scrap paper, the back of the notice contained the recorder's basic usage instructions.
It kindly explained everything from how to hold it to the recorder's basic principles and scale.
The fingering method in particular was needlessly detailed.
[Recorder Fingering]
A recorder produces various sounds depending on which holes you cover. Let's see what notes the recorder can produce by looking at the table below.
Do 7 ●
Re 6 ●
Mi 5 ●
Fa 4 ●
Sol 3 ●
La 2 ●
Si 1 ●
-----
Do 0 ●
Open hole: ○
Closed hole: ●
I couldn't tell if this was a high school classroom or an elementary school classroom.
It was a passage that revealed how much the music teacher looked down on these fresh-faced adolescent high schoolers.
To that extent, this notice was suspiciously kind. Like a person teaching sign language to a monkey, or a mother teaching a child to speak, it explained everything step by step.
Reading it several times gave me an ominous sense of déjà vu. I couldn't imagine a school teacher having written this notice.
No, at this point, I couldn't believe a human had written it.
'Could this also be part of the game?'
Game.
My head spun at the word, familiar yet foreign.
The dreamlike situation unfolding since earlier was strikingly similar to the RPG Maker games I'd consistently enjoyed.
The messages that popped up with every interaction, the items—all of it.
...And dying, then coming back to life, too.
I fell deep into thought. In RPG Maker games, progression is extremely linear.
Moreover, unless it was an RPG, story progression generally consisted of puzzles.
RPG Maker puzzles involve gathering scattered clues in a limited space, piecing them together, and solving problems.
They are commonly used when opening locked doors or locks. It vaguely resembled my current classroom situation.
If this entire classroom followed an RPG Maker game to a tee, then the escape method was undoubtedly a puzzle.
I gathered and organized the clues I'd found so far. Though there were only three.
The note. The recorder. The notice.
Due to the nature of RPG Maker puzzles, a single item alone couldn't do anything.
A chain reaction of clues.
You had to flexibly combine clues scattered in every direction to produce an answer. I slowly reasoned through based on the clues gathered so far.
'First, the note.'
0134.
The four-digit number on the note was meaningless. As a passcode, it didn't fit the back door lock. The other clues were the same.
The recorder was merely an ordinary instrument, and the notice was simply detailed for no apparent reason.
'But if I connect these three?'
I unfolded the back of the notice.
The instruction manual containing the recorder's basic principles appeared.
I didn't need anything else.
The most important thing was the table at the bottom.
[Recorder Fingering]
A recorder produces various sounds depending on which holes you cover. Let's see what notes the recorder can produce by looking at the table below.
Do 7 ●
Re 6 ●
Mi 5 ●
Fa 4 ●
Sol 3 ●
La 2 ●
Si 1 ●
-----
Do 0 ●
Open hole: ○
Closed hole: ●
This notice alone formed an intersection with the code on the note.
0134—the numbers matched too.
They aligned perfectly with the holes and evoked notes on the recorder.
Covering the holes according to the numbers written on the table and playing the recorder was the puzzle's answer.
I was sure. My years of RPG Maker experience told me so on a gut level.
Now only playing the recorder remained.
Just as I was covering the recorder holes in order and bringing it to my mouth,
I suddenly caught a glimpse of a name tag attached to the exterior.
[10319 Jin Da-yeon]
...It was a girl's name no matter who looked at it.
My fingers stopped on their own. My gaze naturally shifted to the recorder.
A hard, long, cylindrical plastic stick found anywhere.
But this trivial piece of newly added knowledge flipped my perception upside down.
Without realizing it, I glanced around the hallway area, checking my surroundings.
There wasn't any saliva on it or anything, but somehow it felt strange.
I hadn't noticed earlier, but it seemed to give off a faint scent.
'...This makes me look like some kind of pervert bastard.'
A male student sneaking into a classroom in the middle of the night to blow a classmate's recorder.
From an objective third party's point of view, he was indeed a pervert bastard.
Realizing this fact made me hesitate to readily play the recorder. But I still had to do it.
'I have no choice if I want to live.'
Because this wasn't an act based simply on my pleasure.
When you thought about it, it was closer to a struggle to survive. If doing something perverted once meant not dying, that was quite a cheap price to pay.
I was just borrowing a classmate's recorder covered in saliva for a moment.
It was similar in principle to lending a gym uniform or a textbook to a friend.
I just had to blow it once and put it back. Anyway, by the next day it would all be dry and nobody would notice.
'Yeah, that's how it is.'
I nodded repeatedly in agreement.
With this level of logic, I'd receive extenuating circumstances even in court.
If the person involved heard this story, they would understand the circumstances and forgive me.
Even though I'd never exchanged a single word with this kid named Jin Da-yeon.
Once I finished my mind control, the lingering discomfort coiled deep in my chest completely vanished.
I immediately brought the recorder to my mouth.
Impure thoughts flashed through my mind for a moment, but I shook them off at once.
Clasping the same female classmate's recorder between my lips, I slowly blew my breath into it.
"Huu~"
-Squeeeak!
A shuddering, spine-chilling, screeching noise filled the classroom. And shortly after,
-Clack.
the back door of the classroom opened.
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