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Surviving in an RPG Maker Horror Game Chapter 13: Symmetrical Adjustment

Chapter 13: Symmetrical Adjustment

A book that kills‌ you if you‍​ read it?

Just⁠‌ hearing the name‍⁠‌ was already suspicious.‌ I had no‌ idea how absurd‍​​ it could actually​⁠⁠ be.

The‌‌​ message popped up⁠⁠ immediately:

[Book⁠‌ That Kills You⁠⁠⁠ If You Read​ It]

【Red-covered⁠​‌ book. If you‍ read it, you‍ die.】

‘What‌‍⁠ kind of ridiculous‍‌ item is this?’‌‌

It​ was even more‌ baffling than the‌‍‌ “Jin Dayeon’s Prize”‌ I had received​‍⁠ earlier.

“This​ says it kills‍​ you if you‌ read it.”

“Seriously?”‍‍

Dayeon⁠‍‌ looked at the⁠​⁠ book with interest.⁠⁠ She seemed curious‌ to see what​ would happen if​⁠ someone like her,​ who couldn’t die,‌ read it.

“Wanna‌⁠ read it?”

I offered the book​‍ through the hole,‍ but Dayeon crossed‌⁠‌ her arms in⁠⁠ an X and‍‍​ refused.

“It​ wouldn’t affect me,⁠ but if I end up dead,⁠​ you won’t be‌ able to escape.”⁠‌

“I‍⁠​ guess that’s true.”​

Though,​​ honestly, I didn’t‌ really care. Even⁠⁠​ if I died‍​​ from reading it,​‌ I’d just return‌​​ to my last​‌ save point. But‌ I had no‍‍‌ intention of telling⁠‍ Dayeon that.

‘There’s⁠ no advantage in‌​ revealing I can​‌‌ go back in⁠‍​ time.’

It⁠‌ could easily be‌ used against me.‌‍​ So I put⁠‌⁠ the book away⁠‍ without saying anything‌​​ more.

“So,‍ do you know​‌ how to escape​​‌ yet?”

Dayeon​‌‍ asked, lounging in⁠ her chair rather‌ than sitting. She‍ showed no sign​⁠ of wanting to‌‌‍ escape at all.‍

“And‌‌⁠ what do you‍ think?”

“I​‍‌ don’t know… Maybe⁠ the fact that‍ there are two‌⁠ separate libraries is⁠⁠ a key clue.⁠‍ Or not.”

Despite⁠ everything, it seemed‍‌ her promise to​‌ help me escape⁠‍ wasn’t completely empty.‍⁠‌

“A‌‍ clue, huh…?”

I recalled the situation.‌‍​

Two‌‍ libraries separated by‍ a glass wall.⁠‍ One was clean‌‍​ and organized. The‌⁠⁠ other, messy and‍‍‍ chaotic.

And‌‌ a vague message:‌‍‌

[Face‌ each other.]

What​ did it all‍‌ mean?

The‍⁠ answer came quickly.⁠

“Symmetry.”⁠

“Symmetry?”​

Dayeon‍ tilted her head,​‌ waiting for an‍ explanation. I considered‍⁠​ not telling her,‍ but she probably‍‍ wouldn’t help otherwise.‍‌⁠

“It​‍‌ means we have‍ to make both‍‍‍ libraries look the⁠ same.”

Puzzles‌⁠ in RPG Maker‌⁠‌ games tend to‍‌‌ follow similar patterns.​⁠⁠ It’s due to​ limitations in the​‍ game engine and‍​ camera angle.

I’d⁠ seen this kind​⁠ of puzzle before‍⁠ in horror games⁠​ like The Witch’s‍‍ House and Mad‍ Father.

I carefully examined the‌​ secret library. The‍​​ glass wall stood⁠‌​ in the center,‌ dividing the space‍ into two.

The​ furniture was arranged​‌‌ similarly—only my side⁠​ was a complete‌‌⁠ mess.

It⁠‌⁠ was designed so‍‍‌ you wouldn’t notice‍‍ the symmetry unless‌⁠⁠ you looked closely.‍​‍

“So⁠ this was…”

And‍ if that was‌‌​ the case, then‍​‌ the solution was​ also obvious. I needed to organize⁠​ my side of‍‍‌ the library to‌‌⁠ mirror Dayeon’s.

Symmetrically.‍​​

“Come⁠‌ over here. Let’s‍⁠​ clean this up​​​ together.”

I motioned to Dayeon,⁠‌​ who looked fused​‍​ to her chair.⁠‍ My side was⁠‍ a total disaster.‍‍‍

Just⁠‍ cleaning it would⁠‍‍ take forever. But​‍ if we worked​ together, it’d go⁠ much faster.

Dayeon‌‍ reluctantly got up.⁠

“What​​ a pain… How​‌ long will it‌ take?”

“No‌‌‌ idea. Depends on​‌ how much you​ help.”

She‍ walked toward the⁠‍ door to the‌ secret library… but‌ didn’t enter.

“What⁠‍ are you doing?‍‍ Aren’t you coming‌‍ in?”

“The⁠⁠​ door’s locked.”

“…What?”‌​

I ran to the⁠‌ door in disbelief.​

Clack⁠⁠‌ clack.

It‍ wouldn’t open. I never locked it,​⁠​ but it was‍​⁠ completely sealed.

“Looks‌​ like it closed‌⁠‍ by itself when‌​ we entered.”

The⁠​ moment I stepped‍‌​ in, the exit​‍⁠ had sealed shut.​​⁠ We were trapped.⁠​‌

It‍​ seemed the only⁠⁠ way to open‍ it was by‌‍‍ solving the puzzle.‌

‘Wait…⁠ it only opens​ if we solve‌​ it?’

Dayeon‍‌ slowly returned to‌‍ her chair and⁠⁠ looked at me​‍ blankly. Then she​ murmured with a smile:

“Good⁠​‌ luck. Call me⁠‌‍ when you’re done.”‌

“…”‌⁠⁠

I couldn’t blame her.⁠ I was the⁠​ one who came​‌ in here on‍‌‍ my own.

Swallowing‌⁠ my frustration, I started organizing the‌​‍ library.

“Done​ yet?”

“No.”​‍​

“Done⁠‍‌ now?”

“…No.”‌‍

Dayeon⁠‌ swung her legs‍⁠‌ from the chair.​ Instead of staying‌⁠‌ quiet, she kept‍⁠ talking to me.‍

“If⁠ you’re tired, you​​ should take a break.”

“No⁠​‌ time. I want‍‌ to get out⁠‍ of here as‌‍⁠ soon as possible.”‌

“Do‌ you hate this​‍‌ school that much?”⁠‍⁠

“What‌‌‌ do you think?‍​ If I stay‌ here any longer,‍‌ I’ll go insane‍⁠ like you.”

I continued stacking scattered⁠​ books. Dayeon walked‍‍ over to the​ glass wall.

“What‍ are you doing‌ now?”

“I⁠‌ was bored. Just‌ watching.”

“You’re⁠‌ in the way.‌ Go back.”

“Nope.”‍

Dayeon⁠​‍ wasn’t someone you‌‍ could reason with.⁠‌‍ Talking to her⁠‌‌ was just draining.⁠​⁠

I ignored her and⁠‌‌ kept working.

“When​⁠‌ you escape this‌​ school, what’s the‍ first thing you​⁠ want to do?”⁠‌

“I​ don’t know… lock‌⁠​ myself in my⁠‌‍ room and sleep‌ as much as‌ I can. Why​⁠⁠ do you ask?”‌‍

“I⁠ see. I’ll remember‌‌​ that. By the⁠‌‌ way, aren’t you​ going to ask​ me what I want to do?”​

“…You’re‍‍ bold.”

She‍⁠‌ hadn’t even answered‌⁠‌ my question, yet‍​ now she demanded‍⁠‍ I ask her⁠​​ one.

I knew if I ignored her, she’d⁠​​ just keep nagging​ me, so I sighed and reluctantly‌‌ asked:

“What‌‍⁠ do you want‍ to do when⁠‍‍ we get out‍ of here?”

A forced question, but⁠‍ even I felt​⁠ a bit curious.‌‌‌ After all, this‍​ girl had been​ trapped in this‌‍ school for ten‌​ years, unable to‍ die.

I wondered what she’d‍⁠ say. Dayeon touched⁠ a finger to‍​ her lips and‌⁠ closed one eye.‍‌

“It’s​⁠​ a secret.”

“Oh,‍‍‍ come on…”

I was speechless, completely⁠ dumbfounded. I seriously‌⁠ wanted to crack⁠‌ her head open​ and see what⁠​⁠ the hell was‌ inside.

“I’m⁠ almost done tidying‍⁠ up, so get‌‍ ready to start​‌ matching everything.”

“Alright.”‌

Cleaning‌​‌ the library had​⁠⁠ taken longer than‍⁠ expected. Thanks to⁠​​ Dayeon’s constant interruptions,​‌ the task dragged​ on even more.⁠​​

Now,‍ we had to⁠‌‍ solve the puzzle‍ as soon as‍ possible.

“What‌​ items are on​ your side? Take​ a look.”

“Chairs,‍ shelves… a desk,‌​ a flowerpot, a painting, and other‌ stuff. Lots of‍‍ it.”

My​​ side looked the​ same. The room’s‌‌⁠ layout was practically‍‌‌ symmetrical compared to‌‍⁠ Dayeon’s side.

“Then⁠⁠⁠ we just have​⁠⁠ to match everything‌‌ one by one.‌‍ How about we‌​ start with the⁠​ books?”

Dayeon⁠ chatted away without‌ lifting a finger.​​ Normally, that would’ve⁠ driven me crazy,⁠ but I was‌ used to it⁠⁠ by now.

I checked the shelf​‌⁠ on Dayeon’s side‌​⁠ and began placing​​ books in the​​‌ same order. I also put the⁠‍ vase on the​ desk and hung‍⁠ the painting to⁠‌​ match the other‍‍ side.

Both⁠⁠ sides were starting⁠ to look identical.⁠​​ But then, a difference appeared.

[You’ve‍⁠‌ obtained a bouquet⁠ of roses.]

It‍​ was the bouquet‍⁠​ of roses. Dayeon’s‍​⁠ vase only had‌ a single rose,‌‍‍ while mine had‌ a full, lush​​ bouquet.

‘Should​​⁠ I divide it⁠​ equally?’

I counted the roses​ in the bouquet—nineteen.​‍ Adding the single​‌ rose from the⁠ other side made​ twenty. Perfect.

Careful​ not to prick‌‌‍ myself on the‍ thorns, I split⁠‍​ the bouquet in‍‌‌ two: ten and‍⁠ nine.

[You’ve‌⁠‌ obtained a bouquet​‍​ of 10 roses.]‌‍‌

[You’ve​‌ obtained a bouquet​ of 9 roses.]‌​

Then​⁠‍ I placed the​ 10 roses into⁠‌ the empty vase⁠ on my desk.​ The rest were​ for Dayeon.

“Here,​ this is for⁠‌⁠ you.”

“What’s⁠‍ this?”

“What‌⁠‍ do you think?‍⁠‍ It’s a bouquet.”⁠⁠‌

I handed it to​⁠ her through the‍​ hole. Dayeon stared‌​‌ at the bouquet⁠‌⁠ intently.

“Is⁠ this… a proposal?”⁠​‍

“What‌ nonsense are you‍‌ on about now?”‌‌

“Isn’t​​​ it a bit⁠⁠⁠ soon? We barely‍‌‌ know each other.”⁠

“I’m​‍ telling you—”

Before‌ I could finish,​ Dayeon had already‍‍⁠ accepted the bouquet.‌‌⁠

“Well,‍​ I’ll accept it‍‍ for the sentiment.”​

“Don’t⁠⁠‌ be ridiculous. Just‍‍ put it in‍ the vase.”

“Yes,⁠ I wouldn’t want⁠⁠ our memories to‍‍‌ wither.”

“…”‍

Dayeon​ walked cheerfully over⁠⁠ to the vase⁠‍ and placed the‌ bouquet inside. Including​​ the rose that‌​‌ was already there,​ it now held​⁠‍ ten.

‘That’s​‍​ it for the⁠⁠ vase.’

I checked for any​ remaining differences. Looking‌ closely, I noticed​ the desk wasn’t‍​​ in the same‌​​ position. I carefully⁠ moved it so‍⁠ the vase wouldn’t‌​​ tip over.

“Looks​​‍ like that’s everything.”‌⁠

I compared both sides,‍‌​ shifting my gaze‌‌​ back and forth.⁠‍⁠ The book arrangement,‍⁠​ desk placement, shelves,‍‍ vases… everything matched.‍

But‍‍​ the door was​‌‌ still shut.

“What’s⁠​ wrong now?”

I asked Dayeon. But⁠‌ she was still⁠​ staring at the‍⁠⁠ bouquet, almost entranced.‍‍

“Is​ there something weird‌ about the flower?⁠‍ Why are you​‍ looking at it‍‍ like that?”

“I⁠⁠‌ don’t know… it’s‍ beautiful.”

She‍‍ brought the bouquet​⁠ close to her‌ nose to sniff.⁠​‌

“…Just⁠ as I thought,‌‍⁠ no scent.”

“Then‍​⁠ why’d you smell‌‌ it?”

“I‍ was curious. It’s‌‍ been a long‍‍ time since I’ve⁠​ seen real flowers.”​‌⁠

Dayeon⁠‍⁠ said something unexpected.⁠⁠ Her expression was‌‍⁠ as indifferent as⁠‌ always, but her‍‍‍ tone was a little softer.

“In​​‍ these ten years,⁠‍‌ I’ve only seen‍​‌ flowers in pictures.”⁠​

“…I‍​⁠ see.”

“Thanks,⁠‍‌ for letting me​‍‌ experience this too.”⁠​‍

She​‍‌ quickly returned to​​‍ her usual tone.‍ Maybe she hadn’t‌‍‌ completely lost her⁠ emotions after all.‌‍ Something was still‌ there.

“Anyway,‍⁠⁠ do you know‌ why the door‌⁠⁠ isn’t opening?”

“Because⁠ it’s not symmetrical.”‌‌

“I​ know that. I mean the exact​‌ positioning.”

“You‌ really didn’t notice?”​

Dayeon‍ raised her hand‍​​ to her mouth‌⁠​ and opened her​​ eyes wide in‌‌ exaggerated surprise. She‌‌‌ was trying to‌⁠‍ act shocked, but‍‌‌ without emotion, it‌⁠ looked like a broken doll.

“…So‌​ where is it?”​​​

Swallowing​‌ my pride, I asked. Dayeon tapped⁠‍⁠ the wall lazily.‌

“The⁠ wall?”

“That’s‍​⁠ as much of‌​​ a hint as​⁠ I’ll give. Look‍​ carefully.”

I ran my hand​⁠ along the wall.​‍‌ The only thing‌​ there was a large painting hung‌ right in the‍ center.

“You‌​ mean this?”

“Don’t‍‍‌ ask me. Think‍​‍ for yourself.”

It​‍‍ was as big‍​‌ as a person’s⁠​ torso. Inside was‍ a painting that‌​⁠ looked like it‌‍​ came straight from​ the art room.‍⁠

A landscape. A vast⁠ field with a red sunset in‍​ the background.

‘A⁠‍​ field…?’

I got a bad​​‍ feeling. I rushed‌⁠‌ to check the​⁠⁠ painting on the‍ other side of‌‌​ the library.

It‌ also had a red sunset, but​ in one corner‌​⁠ of the field⁠​ stood a lone​ tree.

“Found‍⁠ it.”

“Took‍ you long enough.‍⁠ You must have‍ tunnel vision. Broaden‌‍ your perspective.”

“Shut⁠ up.”

The​⁠ difference between the‌​​ two paintings was​‍​ that single tree.⁠‌

“The‌⁠ question is: how⁠⁠‌ do I make‍‌‌ them match?”

Drawing‌‍‍ a tree onto‍ the field was‍​‌ nearly impossible. No‌​⁠ brushes, no paint,‍​​ no crayons—nothing. And‌ I couldn’t erase‍⁠‌ the tree on​‍⁠ the other one‍ either. I didn’t‍​ even have an‍ eraser.

‘Is​‍ there another way?’‍

As⁠⁠ I racked my‍​ brain trying to​ think of how‍‌ to make the‌‍ paintings match, Dayeon​ spoke quietly.

“What​‌‍ if you don’t‌​⁠ have to make‍‍‌ them match?”

“Of⁠ course you do.​ It has to⁠‍​ be symmetrical.”

When‍‍⁠ she heard my⁠⁠​ response, Dayeon tilted⁠ her head at‍‍⁠ a 45-degree angle.‍⁠

“But‌‌ for both rooms‍​ to be symmetrical,‍⁠ do they really‍​‍ need to have‌​‍ the same painting?”‌

“Well…”‌‌

My‍ tongue stopped just⁠‌ before replying.

‘Wait‌‍ a minute.’

The‍ essence of the‌‍ library wasn’t the‌ painting—it was the‍ room itself. The​ painting was just​ a means to‍⁠⁠ achieve symmetry.

So​ all that was‍​ needed was to​‍ change that means‌​‍ appropriately.

“Now‌‌‌ you get it?”⁠‌

“…More‌⁠​ or less.”

I took down the⁠⁠‌ painting, holding it‍​​ carefully so it⁠‌‍ wouldn’t fall. I turned it over‍‍‌ gently.

“If​⁠‌ the painting prevents​ symmetry, then we⁠⁠​ just get rid​ of it. A change in perspective,‌ right?”

“You⁠‍ could’ve just said‌‌ that earlier.”

“If‌ I had, it​‌ wouldn’t be any​ fun.”

I flipped the painting‌​‌ over. This time,‍​ something new appeared.⁠⁠

“…It’s‍⁠ a mirror.”

The‌⁠‍ back of the​‍ painting clearly reflected‌⁠⁠ my face. And‌‍​ with that, the‌​​ solution to the‌‌‌ puzzle began to⁠ reveal itself.

‘So‌ that was it.’‌​

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