FPIH Chapter 2 (Part 3)

Shin Jiho nodded.

“What was he like?”

Go Pyeonghwa asked. It was such a vague question that Jiho couldn’t immediately answer. Hwang Siwoon seemed to realize something and quickly said,

“Oh right, I’ve been too busy talking, we haven’t even heard Jiho’s story. What happened on the eighth floor of the girls’ dorm? Things must have been crazy there too.”

Sharing information was necessary to prevent her teammates from acting blindly, but she couldn’t share everything.
She roughly knew Hwang Siwoon’s character, but their relationship wasn’t close enough for her to reveal all her secrets. And Go Pyeonghwa, whom she’d met for the first time today, was certainly not someone she could trust completely.

‘Besides, there’s no way they’d believe something as absurd as a time loop. Even I wouldn’t believe it.’

If she spoke carelessly, she could be branded as insane. Or worse, labeled a liar, causing no one to trust anything she said from now on.
‘I’ll keep the weird details hidden for now, just say a little.’
Jiho decided to selectively edit the truth. Lies would only lead to confusion and suspicion, so she chose to avoid them as much as possible.

“I was in my room—Room 810—alone, writing a cover letter when the earthquake happened. After the shaking stopped, I heard the first announcement. It said we were all dead and floors eight, nine, and ten were sealed off… You guys heard that too, right?”

Hwang Siwoon nodded quickly, saying, “Yeah, yeah, exactly.” Go Pyeonghwa silently met Jiho’s eyes and gave a brief nod.

“While I was panicking, I suddenly heard screaming from the hallway. It wasn’t just one or two people; multiple people were begging and cursing… Then the announcement came again and told us there was a demon called Marbas on the eighth floor of the girls’ dorm. When I peeked into the hallway, a monster was guarding the center. I knew at once it was Marbas.”

“What did he look like?”

When Go Pyeonghwa asked, Jiho answered,

“He had a lion’s head with a human body. He wore something you’d see on an ancient Greek statue.”

After briefly checking the black note in Siwoon’s hand, Pyeonghwa asked again,

“A golden lion with a black mane?”

Shin Jiho nodded. Marbas had a black mane, while his body was golden.

“There was a girl in the opposite room—Room 810—who tried to escape using the emergency stairs. But the emergency exit door was locked tight, completely unresponsive even to our card keys. Marbas grabbed the girl’s head, and…in an instant, she transformed into an animal.”

Recalling that moment was so painful that Jiho’s speech slowed. Not wanting to vividly describe the horrific scene, she glossed over the transformation.

As Pyeonghwa listened, his expression hardened seriously. He awkwardly twitched the corner of his lips, rubbing his chin with his hand, his face contorted in discomfort. Jiho found his sudden change in expression slightly puzzling, but as Pyeonghwa remained silent, she continued.

“I hid in my room and tried to contact the outside, but nothing worked. My smartphone, the internal phone line, even my laptop—all completely dead.”

“Yeah, it was the same for us,” Siwoon interjected. “Neither of our smartphones worked, and the internal phone here was also completely useless—like it had just broken down entirely. It felt pretty suspicious at the time. Both smartphones dying simultaneously couldn’t have been a coincidence.”

Hwang Siwoon kept making exclamations. Then, he laughed sheepishly.

“Oh, sorry, I interrupted you. What happened next?”

“The only way to escape the eighth floor was through the elevator lobby. While watching the hallway, waiting for a chance, three girls from another room suddenly ran out, so I joined them. I figured it’d be safer to be in a group.”

Jiho decided to skip the chaos that occurred back then. She hadn’t exactly done well herself, so she didn’t feel like mentioning it.

“We just ran blindly toward the lobby, trying to escape Marbas. Two of us were caught at that time. Only me and one other girl managed to reach the stairs. But something was off—the structure had changed.”

“The structure changed? How?” asked Go Pyeonghwa, furrowing his brows.

“There were metal bars blocking the stairs between floors that hadn’t been there before. Even the fire shutters were placed closer to the stairs than usual. We couldn’t go any further down, so we had no choice but to enter the seventh floor. That’s when I ran into you guys.”

Having said everything she intended, Jiho closed her mouth. She felt satisfied, believing she’d shared enough information without revealing too much.

There was a brief silence, broken by Hwang Siwoon.

“You must’ve had a really hard time, Jiho. It must have been terrifying, especially alone… Even with the two of us together, we were scared to death.”

With a sincere look, Siwoon patted Jiho’s shoulder gently. It was the first real comfort and empathy she’d received since the chaos began. At that moment, an overwhelming sadness suddenly surged inside her, like a lock had just been released. Jiho clenched her jaw tightly to hold back tears. After quickly regaining control over her emotions, she shook her head.

Then, abruptly breaking the warm atmosphere, Go Pyeonghwa threw out a blunt question.

“Are you really in computer engineering? Which year?”

For a moment, Jiho stared blankly at Pyeonghwa, wondering what he was suddenly getting at. Go Pyeonghwa was staring directly at her. Only then did Jiho realize the question was directed at her. Still baffled by the unexpectedness, she answered obediently.

“Yeah, I’m really in Computer Engineering. Fourth year.” “You didn’t transfer departments, transfer schools, or take a long leave?” “No, I didn’t.”

Instead of Jiho, Hwang Siwoon asked, sounding confused.

“What’s with the sudden questions?” “Because of the note you’re holding.” “What about it…? Ah, huh?”

Hwang Siwoon checked the black note in his hand and let out a startled sound.

〈Marbas. Great President of Hell. Appears as a golden lion with a black mane. Turns humans he dislikes into animals. If asked about hidden things, he will answer only with the truth. He loves knowledge of machinery and craftsmanship and favors humans skilled in such matters.〉

“You said you were in room 810—the room farthest from the elevator lobby. Four of you ran, two got caught. Naturally, the one from room 810 should’ve had the greatest disadvantage, yet you survived. That’s proof that at least part of what’s written on this black note is true.”

Go Pyeonghwa took the black note from Siwoon’s hand and unfolded it in front of everyone.

“Great President of Hell—that part can’t be confirmed. Golden lion with a black mane, accurate. Turns humans he dislikes into animals—let’s assume that’s true since we’ve seen it. Answers only with truth if asked about hidden things—that one hasn’t been verified yet.”

Pyeonghwa quickly read through the note, commenting line by line. He paused briefly before continuing at the final sentence.

“And then there’s Shin Jiho, a fourth-year computer engineering major who is skilled with machines—computers. According to the black note, you’re the kind of human Marbas favors. That’s why he didn’t turn you into an animal. Because Marbas only transforms humans he dislikes.”

Jiho bit her lip, carefully replaying every detail of her escape from Marbas on the eighth floor. She had a vague feeling that Marbas hadn’t merely lost track of her but intentionally let her go. Maybe it wasn’t just her imagination.

“This is giving me chills…”

Hwang Siwoon muttered, covering his mouth with a hand.
Although one question had been resolved, another quickly emerged. Jiho stared uneasily at the black note.

‘If everything on the black note is true, what is it trying to convey? What’s the purpose?’

Jiho felt if she could decipher the note’s intention, she might also understand the message that appeared on the smartphone.

Go Pyeonghwa handed the black note back to Siwoon and casually shifted the subject.

“The fact that the stairway structure changed bothers me.”

Siwoon brightened up and raised his voice excitedly.

“Right? I really think Room 721 might exist. If the staircase structure changed, the dorm layout itself might have changed as well. It wouldn’t be weird if the number of rooms went from twenty to twenty-one. They could even put up a fake wall and call it Room 721 if they wanted.”

“More importantly, this might not be our real dorm at all.”

“What?”

“It only looks like our dorm. It might actually be an entirely different space.”

Hearing Pyeonghwa’s words, Siwoon’s eyes rolled around thoughtfully before asking,

“So, you’re saying it’s hell?”

Instead of answering, Go Pyeonghwa folded his arms with a grim expression. He looked deeply troubled. Siwoon studied Pyeonghwa carefully before cautiously asking,

“Are you worried about escaping? That we might not be able to?”

“If this were really our dormitory, we could escape just by leaving the building. But if this place is hell, simply stepping outside won’t solve anything.”

“So, does that mean our previous plan is useless?”

“Plan? What plan?” Jiho, who had been listening silently, interrupted their conversation. It was something she couldn’t ignore. Siwoon explained kindly,

“Oh, right. Before we met you, we had a brief meeting about how to escape from here. Actually, we didn’t have much time, so it was more of a quick exchange of ideas rather than a formal plan….”

Hwang Siwoon laughed awkwardly before continuing,

“Well, Pyeonghwa suggested escaping through the emergency stairs since Amon is guarding the elevator lobby. And I thought if the emergency stairs are blocked, we could escape through the windows.”

As soon as Jiho heard Siwoon’s words, negative thoughts immediately sprang to her mind.
‘No, at least not right now.’
But before Shin Jiho could voice her opposition, Go Pyeonghwa spoke first.

“The emergency stairs probably won’t work. The eighth-floor emergency stairs were locked.”

Jiho understood immediately because she’d had the same thought as Pyeonghwa. Only Siwoon didn’t follow, tilting his head in confusion.

“Huh? Why? The eighth floor is the eighth floor—couldn’t the seventh-floor emergency stairs still be open?”

“The emergency stairs have always been unlocked under normal circumstances. If they’re locked now, it means someone deliberately locked them—and it’s probably the demons who’ve taken over the dormitory. If the eighth floor stairs are locked, there’s a good chance the seventh floor stairs are too.”

Only then did Siwoon let out a sigh, finally getting it. After rolling his eyes thoughtfully a few times, he said,

“But…still, maybe there’s a chance? We should at least check! The demons might not have locked every single exit.”

His voice was filled with hopeful optimism.

But Jiho was skeptical. Even before floor-to-floor movement was officially banned, the emergency stairs had already been locked. Now that moving between floors was explicitly prohibited, she doubted the stairs would suddenly be open.

Go Pyeonghwa wore a similarly doubtful expression, though he still nodded.

“It’s still worth checking.”

Both Pyeonghwa and Siwoon looked ready to check the emergency stairs immediately. Jiho quickly intervened.

“I’m against it.”

Siwoon’s eyes widened. Pyeonghwa asked curtly,

“Why?”

Jiho swallowed dryly.

“Because we’ve been forbidden from moving between floors.”

『From now on, moving between floors is prohibited. All residents currently on the seventh floor of both the men’s and women’s dormitories, please gather in room 721 of the men’s dormitory. The demons on the seventh floor are Amon, Allocen, and Andromalius.』

The announcement had clearly instructed them not to move between floors and to gather in room 721 of the men’s dormitory.

Escape? Of course she wanted to.

But if complete escape wasn’t currently possible, then finding room 721 in the men’s dormitory had to come first.

‘I don’t want to die again because I ignored the announcements.’

With an openly incredulous expression, Go Pyeonghwa said,

“You sure follow the announcements obediently. Even though you have no idea who’s behind them.”

He looked at her like she was a child wandering cluelessly into danger. Jiho felt a flash of embarrassment but defended herself logically.

“Whether they’re real demons or not, what’s important is they have supernatural powers. They breathe fire, turn humans into animals, and cause earthquakes at will. Under these circumstances, ignoring their instructions seems dangerous. If you’re taken hostage by terrorists, the least you can do is pretend to follow their rules. Right now, we should head to room 721.”

“So you’ll follow nonsensical instructions without even knowing their intentions or the consequences?”

“By that logic, escaping would be the same. You have no idea what will happen, but you’re determined to just go outside blindly?”

“At least I wouldn’t be playing directly into their hands.”

“They have supernatural powers. There’s no need for them to control powerless people like us in such a complicated way.”

“They might have a reason for doing exactly that. Right now, we know nothing.”

Pyeonghwa stubbornly refused to budge. Jiho felt increasingly frustrated, wanting desperately to shout, ‘I’ve already died once, so believe me—I know we need to follow the announcements!’

She hadn’t exactly liked Pyeonghwa in the first place, and his constant rebuttals irritated her even more. She felt like smacking him just once to relieve her frustration.

As the two stood their ground, neither backing down, Siwoon, who had been anxiously watching from the side, cautiously interrupted.

Siwoon raised his voice enthusiastically.

“Right? I really think Room 721 might actually exist. If the stairs’ layout has changed, maybe the dorm’s layout itself changed too. It wouldn’t be strange for the rooms to go from twenty to twenty-one. They could even just put up a temporary wall and claim it’s room 721.”

“More importantly, this place might not even be our actual dorm.”

“What?”

“It might just look like our dorm—but it could actually be a completely different space.”

After hearing Pyeonghwa, Siwoon rolled his eyes thoughtfully before asking,

“So, you’re saying…hell?”

Pyeonghwa crossed his arms without responding, his expression growing grave. He appeared deeply unsettled. Siwoon looked carefully at him and cautiously asked,

“Are you worried we won’t be able to escape?”

“If this were our real dorm, escaping would mean leaving the building. But if it’s hell, simply leaving might not solve anything.”

“So does that mean our previous plan is scrapped?”

“Plan? What plan?” Jiho cut into their conversation, unable to let that pass by. Siwoon explained patiently.

“Oh, earlier, before we ran into you, we were discussing how to escape from here. Actually, we didn’t have much time, so it was less of a meeting and more of an exchange of ideas.”

Siwoon laughed awkwardly before continuing.

“Anyway, Pyeonghwa suggested using the emergency stairs since Amon is blocking the elevator lobby. My idea was that if the stairs are blocked, we should try escaping through the windows.”

As Pyeonghwa and Siwoon looked ready to immediately check the stairs, Jiho quickly interjected,

“I disagree.”

Both turned toward her.

“I’m against it,” Jiho repeated firmly.

Siwoon looked confused. Jiho swallowed, then explained clearly,

“The announcement explicitly said we can’t move between floors. It instructed everyone on the seventh floor to gather in room 721. Violating that seems risky.”

Pyeonghwa openly showed disbelief as he responded,

“You’re very obedient to that announcement, even though you don’t know who’s giving these orders.”

Jiho felt embarrassment rising but managed to stay composed.

“Whoever—or whatever—it is, they clearly have supernatural powers. Breathing fire, transforming people into animals, causing earthquakes at will… Disobeying their instructions seems dangerous right now. Finding room 721 should be our priority.”

“So you’ll blindly follow orders you can’t even understand, without knowing their intention or consequences?”

“By your logic, escaping is just as uncertain. You want to run outside without knowing what might happen?”

“At least then, I wouldn’t be dancing exactly to their tune.”

“They have powers beyond reason. Ignoring their commands seems more dangerous.”

Pyeonghwa’s resistance frustrated Jiho deeply. She desperately wanted to shout, ‘I’ve already died once—believe me, we have to follow the announcements!’

She was already irritated by Pyeonghwa, and his constant challenges only made her feel worse. She wanted nothing more than to smack him at least once.

Sensing rising tension, Siwoon intervened, gently waving his hands.

“Hey, calm down, both of you.”

Jiho and Pyeonghwa fell silent immediately. Jiho felt slightly embarrassed. Even though she’d had reason to get emotional, she regretted showing such raw frustration in front of Siwoon.

Siwoon cleared his throat and started mediating.

“Okay, so it’s one-to-one. Jiho wants to follow the announcement, and Pyeonghwa wants to prioritize escaping. Should I share my opinion now?”

Siwoon carefully continued,

“We can check the emergency stairs first, then the windows. If neither option works, we’ll follow the instructions. Sound good?”

After a short pause, Pyeonghwa nodded, seeing no reason to object. After all, they’d try escaping first. Jiho frowned slightly. At that moment, Pyeonghwa glanced at her, and she quickly looked away, hiding her displeasure.

‘Of course he wouldn’t object. He’s getting his way first, after all.’

Still, Jiho believed they would eventually end up looking for room 721 together.

“Then let’s first check the emergency stairs since we all agreed.”

Siwoon gestured and stepped into the hallway first, followed by Pyeonghwa and Jiho.

The hallway was eerily quiet. Tiles had cracked and warped from the earthquake, fluorescent lights dangled precariously from their wires, and the ceiling panels had shifted and buckled. Jiho felt intensely out of place, like she had stepped into a place she shouldn’t be.

Down the hallway, Amon lay casually stretched out on a white rug, yawning lazily, radiating an overwhelming power difference. Jiho felt a chill just looking at him.

‘No matter what, we can’t challenge him directly.’

“It’s fine. As long as we don’t go near the lobby, he won’t move,” Siwoon whispered reassuringly.

Siwoon stepped cautiously into the hallway first, followed by Jiho and Pyeonghwa. As they did, Amon suddenly lifted his body.

Startled, Jiho froze, her mind panicking, but Pyeonghwa immediately steadied her.

“He’s just standing up, nothing else.”

Jiho instinctively struggled briefly, then calmed down, realizing Pyeonghwa was right. Nothing else happened. Amon remained where he was.

Jiho quickly stepped away from Pyeonghwa, fixing her eyes firmly ahead at the emergency staircase, ignoring his gaze.

They arrived at the emergency stair door. Siwoon reached first and tried the handle, but the door didn’t budge at all.

“It’s really locked, huh?”

Siwoon muttered, sounding disappointed and surprised.

“Try your cards too. Maybe mine’s broken.”

Pyeonghwa and Jiho each took turns scanning their card keys, but neither card was recognized. Siwoon was the only one visibly surprised and disappointed by this outcome. Jiho and Pyeonghwa had expected as much.

Looking around, Siwoon spotted a fire extinguisher near the emergency stairwell door. Jiho recognized it immediately—there had been an identical one on the eighth floor. Without hesitation, Siwoon grabbed it with both hands and lifted it.

‘What’s he planning to do?’

Before Jiho could ask, Siwoon swung the extinguisher at the emergency door.

“Try your cards, too. Mine could be broken.”

Both Go Pyeonghwa and Shin Jiho took turns scanning their card keys, but neither worked. Only Siwoon appeared genuinely disappointed.

“It really doesn’t work…”

After their attempts failed, Siwoon suggested trying their card keys as well, just in case.

Both Jiho and Pyeonghwa took turns scanning their cards, but the door didn’t budge. The only one visibly disappointed was Siwoon. Then Siwoon abruptly grabbed the extinguisher again and raised it.

“What are you doing?” Jiho stopped him quickly.

“I’m just gonna try breaking it open. Maybe it’ll work.”

“No, that won’t open it. It’s a solid metal door. You won’t even dent it.”

“Well, we won’t know unless we try, right? Isn’t trying better than doing nothing?”

Jiho strongly discouraged Siwoon. Even if he succeeded in opening it, she feared the consequences of moving between floors could be disastrous.

Pyeonghwa observed the door closely and shook his head.

“It’ll never open like that.”

“Hmm… Fine.”

Siwoon reluctantly lowered the extinguisher, giving up.

“Now that that’s settled, shall we try the windows?”

Jiho turned toward the windows as she spoke.
All the glass panes were broken or cracked severely, and one window had been left partly open, likely by the room’s original occupant airing it out. The violet curtains swayed softly in the breeze.

Still optimistic, Siwoon brightened up immediately.

“Wait, wait—listen. It’s not completely impossible. We could use curtains and bedsheets tied together. The dorm is full of them, so we’ve got plenty of materials. I’m sure we could even find scissors somewhere to help.”

It didn’t seem entirely absurd, Jiho had to admit.

“…Ah! Jiho, can you handle climbing down a rope? It might take a bit of strength and technique.”

“I’ve never done it before, but I could probably manage.”

Jiho answered honestly. She might lack experience, but she was confident she had enough strength to support her own weight.

“Hmm, then either Pyeonghwa or I can go down first and help you out,” Siwoon said. “I’ll go down first,” replied Pyeonghwa, who was examining the window.

“Oh, you will? That’s probably better anyway since you’re stronger than me. Then I’ll stay up here and hold the rope steady.”

Siwoon jumped up energetically from his crouched position and began vigorously gathering blankets from the bed.

‘This is bad…’
As the plan quickly came together, Jiho felt increasingly anxious. When the first announcement warned about the closure of the eighth, ninth, and tenth floors, moving between floors hadn’t been prohibited. In fact, at that time, failing to move between floors meant certain death. But now, it was explicitly forbidden.

The idea of escaping through the window was tempting to Jiho too—but not now. Attempting it after the ban was lifted seemed wiser.

“It won’t work.”

At Pyeonghwa’s voice, Jiho turned around in surprise. Somehow, he’d found a 30 cm plastic ruler and was tapping it outside the open window. The ruler wouldn’t pass through, blocked by some invisible force.

“Something solid is blocking it,” he said seriously.

“That’s impossible!”

Siwoon jumped up, rushing over to the window. He tried extending his hand outside but was stopped short, as if hitting an invisible barrier. He kept cautiously feeling around the air outside the window, his motions resembling pantomime or touching a wall of fog. His hand couldn’t reach even one centimeter beyond the building’s edge.

After repeating this several times, Siwoon stepped back, looking dazed.

“This is impossible… We really can’t move between floors at all… It’s literally blocked…”

Siwoon murmured blankly. Next to him, Pyeonghwa clenched his teeth, jaw muscles visibly tense. His chiseled face darkened with frustration.

Although Jiho had opposed the escape attempt from the start, she felt no relief—only shock and confusion.

‘Just what kind of place is this?’

She felt overwhelmed by a transcendent barrier, as if she’d encountered a puzzle that no human strength could ever solve. Hopelessness washed over her.

‘Every puzzle should have a solution… It has to… but is there really an answer here?’