Morning arrived, but the unease hadn't gone.
Ji-hoon emerged into the drab dawn, his gaze sweeping across the camp. A few of the early risers were already on the move—cooks lighting fires, guards changing shifts, traders complaining about lost rest. But something about it seemed. slower. Off.
He made his way to the north fence first. Nobody said anything to him. Nobody even glanced in his direction. As if everybody was just a bit too busy keeping their heads down.
When he arrived at the location from last night, the chain had vanished.
Ji-hoon knelt and scoured the ground. No prints. No drag marks. Just dust and leaves. The lantern still dangled on the post, freshly replaced. Fresh oil. Lit.
It was as if nothing had occurred at all.
He rose up and looked around.
Then he spotted her.
A girl—young, possibly sixteen—standing just beyond the stables, gazing into the trees. Her arms were hanging loose at her sides. Her clothes were clean but crumpled, as if she hadn't left her bed all night.
Ji-hoon walked towards her slowly.
"Hey," he said, "you okay?"
She didn't answer. Just continued staring.
He stepped alongside her, gazing into the same spot of woods.
"See something out there?"
Still nothing.
Ji-hoon moved to stand in front of her, waving his hand.
Nothing.
Then she blinked. Once. Slow. Like coming awake from a dream.
Her lips parted. She whispered something too quiet to hear.
He bent closer. "What?"
"It was watching."
Ji-hoon's skin crawled.
"Who was?"
The girl's lips quivered. She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes.
Then she fell.
Ji-hoon caught her just in time, lowering her to the dirt. Her skin was clammy. Her eyes unfocused. He shouted for help, and within seconds, a pair of medics rushed over.
"She just dropped," he said. "Like she was in a trance."
The medics exchanged worried glances. "You're not the first."
"What?"
"Three others," one of them said quietly. "Same symptoms. Pale. Unresponsive. Whispering nonsense before they go under."
They picked up the girl and took her toward the medical tent.
Ji-hoon just stood there, disturbed. That wasn't what was in the original game design. This wasn't a scripted illness or a zone debuff. This was something different.
He went up to the watchtower next, ascending the rickety ladder two steps at a time.
From the top, he had an unobstructed view of the perimeter—and the woods beyond.
It all seemed okay.
But he recalled the guard.
Gone without a trace.
He looked over at the other sentry, a middle-aged man named Pike, chewing jerky and watching the horizon.
"You hear anything strange last night?" Ji-hoon asked.
Pike shrugged. "Wind. Possibly some wolves. One of the lanterns went out, but that's nothing new."
"What about the north patrol?"
Another shrug. "Frank took that watch. Likely sleeping it off."
Ji-hoon frowned. "You seen him?"
"Not since yesterday." Pike hesitated, frowning for the first time. "He ain't checked in neither. That ain't like him."
Ji-hoon descended without speaking. He went directly to Ada's tent.
She was there, honing a combat knife.
"You again," she said, not glancing up. "Don't tell me you lost another delivery."
"There's something amiss in the camp."
Ada stopped. "Go on."
He told her everything. The guard at the wall. The whispers. The missing man. The girl by the stables.
When he finished, Ada finally set the knife down.
"You're not the first to notice," she said. "But the others… they're too scared to talk. I've had four people go missing this week. Thought it was just desertion. Now I'm not sure."
"Then why keep this quiet?"
"Panic spreads faster than bullets."
She stood up and walked over to a map on the wall.
"Don't leave this place for one minute. Not alone, not with anyone. Just keep watch. Mingle. Ask questions. Listen. If this is contagious, we have to know how—and soon."
Ji-hoon nodded slowly.
"Interview the ill ones," she said. "See what they witnessed."
That evening, Ji-hoon went to the medical tent.
Only two lanterns lit up indoors, and their light created dark, elongated shadows on canvas walls. He moved between aisles of beds, catching a glimpse of the girl from before. Her breathing labored. Her face drawn. A nurse leaned next to her, dabbing sweat on her forehead.
"She said anything?" Ji-hoon asked.
The nurse nodded no. "Just mumbles. Same as the others."
Ji-hoon hunched forward.
Her mouth moved.
He listened.
"It's still in the wind. it wears a face…
His gut curled.
This wasn't a glitch. It wasn't a new horror mob or a secret enemy class.
Something was present.
Something the system couldn't detect.
And now, it was within the camp.