Surviving in an RPG Maker Horror Game — Chapter 3: B-flat

Chapter 3: B-flat

Clack.‌

Clack⁠ clack.

The⁠ padlock didn’t open. To be honest, I hadn’t had⁠ much hope anyway.⁠

Just‌‌‌ as expected.

If it could open⁠‌ that easily, I wouldn’t have died⁠‌ so miserably a while ago.

‘Then‍ what is this‍ for?’

I stared at the‌ note, deep in‍‍ thought. What did‍‍ those scribbled numbers,⁠‍⁠ “0134,” really mean?‌ They only confused⁠‌ me more.

Finding‌ no answer, I let it be.‌⁠⁠ Maybe it would‍⁠ be useful later.⁠‍

I went back to‌ inspecting the classroom.‌⁠ If I had‍‌⁠ just found a note, it meant⁠ there might still‌ be more hidden‍ items around.

‘How⁠⁠ much time is‌ left?’

[7:37]

Only about 7 minutes‌ remained. And the‌ time had flown⁠ by without me⁠‌⁠ doing much of⁠ anything.

So‍ far, the only‌‍ thing I’d found was that note.⁠‌

At‍ this rate, I wouldn’t manage to⁠ escape this time‌ either and would‍ end up just‌⁠⁠ like before.

Anxiety⁠‍‌ kicked in. I frantically searched the‌⁠ classroom from top‌ to bottom, looking⁠ for any item.‌‌

[It’s‌‌ full of scattered⁠ junk.]

[It’s‌ full of scattered junk.]

[It’s⁠ full of scattered‍ junk.]

[It’s‌‌ full of scattered⁠ junk.]

[It’s‌‌ full of scattered‌⁠ junk.]

I opened every single‍ locker that looked useless.

[Empty.]‌‌‌

[Empty.]‌‍

[Empty.]‌

[Empty.]

[Empty.]⁠

I also checked all the empty desks.⁠ If a place⁠ could be interacted with, I didn’t‍ hesitate to inspect⁠ it.

In⁠ games, sometimes when⁠⁠ you press everything‌ at random, something⁠ eventually pops up.‌

A pile of pop-up⁠ windows stacked on‌⁠ the side as‍⁠‍ I kept searching.‍ Even after flipping⁠ over more than‌ half the desks,‍ there was no‌⁠ trace of any⁠‌ useful object.

‘Something⁠‌ should’ve shown up‌ by now…’

When‌ I reached the⁠⁠ last desk, something⁠ shined between the‌‍ drawer gaps. I leaned in, intrigued.‍

[There’s‌‍ something inside.]

“!”⁠‍

I knew it. I reached under the‌‍ desk. My fingers‌⁠ touched something.

It‌‍‍ felt like a long rod.

[You‌‍‌ have obtained a recorder.]

‘A recorder?’

I stared, puzzled by‌⁠ the randomness of‍‍‌ the item. I opened the item‍⁠ description window hoping‍‍‍ to find a clue.

[Recorder]‌

【A⁠‍ normal soprano recorder.】‍‌

Reading⁠ the description only‍ confused me more.⁠‌ It was a typical school recorder,‍‌ just like any‍⁠ you’d see in a classroom. Nothing‍ more.

‘And‍ what am I supposed to do‍‌ with this?’

Was‌⁠ I supposed to⁠⁠ play “Edelweiss”?

I waved the recorder like a weapon.‍⁠‌ It didn’t seem‌‍⁠ threatening at all.‍⁠ I considered using‍ it to defend‍⁠ myself if the guard showed up,⁠ but it wasn’t‌ even good for‌⁠ that.

‘If⁠ it shows up‍ as an item,⁠⁠ it must have⁠ a use.’

I checked the remaining‍ desks.

All empty. In this‍⁠ classroom, there were‌ only two items to be found:‍‌⁠ the note and‍ the recorder.

But⁠‍ no matter how‍ hard I thought‍‍⁠ about it, I couldn’t find the‍⁠ slightest connection between‌‍⁠ the two.

‘What‍ if the note has a hidden⁠‌‌ code?’

I took the note out of my‍‌‍ pocket.

At⁠⁠ a glance, it‍⁠ looked like garbage,‌ but since it‌ was listed as‌⁠ an item, it⁠‍‍ was still my‌‌ only hope. I held it up⁠ to the light,‌ checked the back,‍ even tried tracing‌‍‌ lines along the‌⁠⁠ folds.

Nothing made sense.

I began to think‍⁠‍ maybe it really⁠ was just trash.‍

‘…Alright,‍ forget the note.’⁠⁠

I moved on to⁠⁠ the second item. By process of‌‌ elimination, it was all I had‌ left.

[Recorder]⁠‍

【A‍⁠ normal soprano recorder.】

I was convinced the‌ answer lay in‌⁠‍ this instrument.

And‌ not just for‌ any reason. I had a good‌ one.

In‍ South Korea, everyone‍‍ plays the recorder starting in elementary‍ school. It’s practically⁠‌ a childhood friend.‌⁠

And⁠‍ a friend is‍ always there to⁠‌ help when you’re⁠ in trouble, right?‌‍‌ In this desperate⁠‍ situation, it was‌‍ only logical to⁠ think it hid‌‌ some useful clue.⁠‍

‘Can‌ it be taken apart?’

I grabbed the mouthpiece⁠⁠‍ of the recorder‍ and tried pulling. It didn’t budge.⁠‍⁠ Felt like it‌ was glued on.‌ I kept yanking‍ with all my‍ strength, again and⁠‍⁠ again, until I was exhausted.

I used so much⁠⁠ force all at‌‌ once I got⁠‍‌ dizzy. This “inseparable‍ friend” was absolutely‍ useless.

‘I‍ need a break…’⁠‍‌

I set the recorder‍⁠ aside and slumped‌⁠ into my seat.⁠ From there, I had a clear⁠ view of the‌ front of the classroom.

The‌ front door was‌⁠ still firmly padlocked.‌‌ Next to it⁠ was the class⁠‍⁠ bulletin board.

[Class Bulletin Board]

It‌ was plastered with⁠‌ papers—schedules, parent notices,‍⁠ school calendars, various⁠ announcements.

A total mess.

Logically,‍ the class rep or the person‌‌‍ on duty should’ve⁠ organized it already,‍ but clearly no‌ one had touched it.

There⁠ had to be dozens of sheets.‌ I had no‍ desire to read⁠‌⁠ them.

Then,‌ something shining among all those notices‌⁠ caught my eye.⁠‌

‘What’s‍‌ that…?’

Just‌ like the note⁠⁠ and the recorder,‌ important items glowed‍⁠‍ on their own. As if they‍‍ wanted to be⁠‌ found.

I dug through the mountain of papers⁠‍ and pulled out‌‌‍ the glowing one.‍ As soon as‌ I held it,⁠‍⁠ the light faded,⁠ as if its‍‌ purpose had been‌ fulfilled.

[Announcement‍ for Recorder Evaluation]‍‌

Next‍ week, during Thursday’s⁠ music class, there⁠⁠ will be a practical recorder evaluation.‍

All⁠‍ students are to⁠‌ report to the‍ music room at⁠‍ the designated time.‌

[Thursday,‌⁠‌ 4th period – 11:20 a.m.]

Any‍⁠ tardiness will be‌‌ graded as the⁠ lowest score. Punctuality‌ is requested.

A typical musical evaluation⁠‍ notice.

But‌⁠ of course, it just had to‍⁠‍ be for the⁠ recorder. What a strange coincidence.

‘…Is that it?’

I read the notice‌⁠ several times. As‌‍ an escape clue,‍ it was too‍‌ ordinary.

Out⁠⁠ of desperation, I flipped the paper‍ over. And there⁠ I found something⁠‌‌ new. It was⁠‌ a recorder instruction‌‌ manual.

Apparently,‌ they’d reused recycled‍ paper, and on the back of‌ the notice was⁠ an explanation of‌‍ the instrument’s basic‌ structure. It not‍‌ only explained how‌‍ to hold it,‌⁠‍ but also described‌ the playing principles‍⁠ and musical notes.

And especially, it was‍ absurdly detailed about⁠⁠ fingering.

[Recorder‌ Fingering Chart]

Depending⁠ on which holes⁠‍ are covered, the‌‌ recorder produces different‌⁠ sounds. Let’s examine‌‍‌ the following chart to understand what⁠ notes it can play:

Do‍ 7 ●
Re 6 ●
Mi 5 ●
Fa 4 ●
Sol 3 ●
La 2 ●
Si 1 ●
–––––
Do 0 ●

Open⁠ hole: ○
Covered hole: ●

At‍‌‌ this point, I didn’t know if‌⁠ I was in⁠ a middle school⁠ classroom or an‍‌ elementary one.

It‌⁠ was obvious how⁠ little the music⁠‍ teacher trusted their⁠⁠ teenage students. It‍ was like teaching‍ a monkey sign⁠‍ language. Or like‍‍ a mother teaching‌⁠ her child to⁠ speak. Everything explained⁠ step-by-step with excessive‌‌ kindness.

After‍ reading it several‍‌ times, I felt‍⁠ a strange sensation.‍⁠ It didn’t seem‍‌ like something a real teacher would write.

In‍ fact, it didn’t‌ even feel like⁠‌ it had been‌ written by a person.

‘What‌⁠ if this is‌‌⁠ part of the‌ game too?’

Game.⁠⁠‌

That‌ word, so familiar⁠ yet foreign at‌‍ the same time,‍‍ started spinning around‍‍ in my head.‍

From⁠ the beginning, this‌ whole thing felt⁠ like it came‌ straight out of⁠ one of those⁠‌ RPG Maker games‌ I used to⁠⁠⁠ play so much.‍

The‍⁠ pop-up messages upon‍ interaction, the items,‌ even…

…The‍⁠ fact that I revived after dying.‌

I began to think⁠‌ calmly. In RPG⁠‌ Maker games, the‍ progression is usually‍ quite linear. And‍ if it’s not‍⁠ a true RPG,‌⁠ then it’s typically⁠ driven by solving‍‍ puzzles.

The‌⁠ puzzles in RPG⁠ Maker games involve‍ collecting scattered clues⁠‌‍ within a confined‍⁠ space to deduce⁠ the solution.

They’re⁠ used, for example,‌‌ to open locked‌‌ doors or disable⁠ padlocks. Just like⁠ the current classroom⁠ situation. If this⁠ entire classroom was‍‍ mimicking an RPG‍ Maker game, then⁠ the way to‍ escape had to be through a puzzle.

I gathered all the⁠‍ clues I had⁠‍ found so far.‌‌ There were only‍‍ three.

The‌ note, the recorder,⁠ and the announcement.‌‍‌ In puzzles like‍‍ these, no item⁠⁠ works by itself.

It’s‌⁠‍ the combination of‍ clues that produces⁠ results.

You‌ have to combine‍‌ clues flexibly and‌‌⁠ creatively. With that⁠⁠⁠ in mind, I began to deduce‍‌ step by step.⁠

‘Let’s‍‌‌ start with the‌ note.’

134.⁠‍

It‌‌ was a four-digit‍⁠‍ number with no‍ apparent meaning. As⁠⁠‌ a password, it‌ didn’t work on‍ the back door.⁠‌⁠ Same for the‌⁠ other clues.

The‍ recorder was a common instrument. The‌ announcement was just‌ a sheet of‌‌ paper with excessively‌‌‌ detailed information.

‘But⁠‍‍ what if I connect them together…?’‌

I turned over the‍ back of the‌‍ announcement. There was‍‍ the manual with‌‌ the basics of‌⁠ the recorder.

Nothing‍ else mattered. The‍ key was the‌‍‌ chart at the⁠ end.

[Recorder‍ Fingering Chart]

Depending⁠‍⁠ on which holes⁠ are covered, the‍ recorder produces different‍‍ sounds.

Let’s‍‌ look at the‌ following chart to⁠‌‍ understand what notes‍ it can generate.‌

Do‌‌‍ 7 ●
Re 6 ●
Mi 5 ●
Fa 4 ●
Sol 3 ●
La 2 ●
Si 1 ●
–––––
Do 0 ●

Open‌‍ hole: ○
Covered hole: ●

This‍‌ announcement was the⁠⁠ only thing that⁠⁠ had something in⁠ common with the‍ note.

134. The numbers matched.

They‌ aligned perfectly with⁠ the indicated holes,⁠⁠ and directly evoked a musical note⁠ on the recorder.‌

The‌ solution to the‍ puzzle was to⁠ cover the corresponding holes based on‌‌ those numbers and⁠⁠ blow into the‌ recorder. It was‌ clear. My years‌⁠‍ of playing RPG Maker told me‍‌ this without a doubt.

All‍‌⁠ that was left⁠‌ was to play‍⁠ the recorder. I got ready to‍ cover the holes⁠‌‌ in order and bring it to‍⁠⁠ my mouth when‌‌ I suddenly noticed⁠ something on the outside of the‍‍ instrument.

A small sticker barely‍ visible:

[10319⁠‍⁠ Jin Dayeon]

…Definitely‍‌⁠ a girl’s name.‍‍‌

My finger froze mid-air.⁠‍ I immediately looked‍‌ at the recorder.

A long, hard plastic⁠ tube, just like⁠ the ones you‍‌ see in any‍‍⁠ school. But that⁠ one small new‌ detail completely changed⁠ how I perceived the object.

Unintentionally, I glanced toward⁠ the hallway. It didn’t look dirty‍ or have any‍‌ spit, but something‌ felt off. I even thought I caught a faint‍ scent.

‘…This makes me feel‍ like a damn‍‌ pervert.’

A guy, alone in⁠‍ a classroom at‍ night, secretly playing⁠ a classmate’s recorder.‌ From a third-party‌‍ perspective, no doubt⁠ about it—this was‌⁠ the behavior of‍‍ a degenerate.

And once I became‍ aware of that,‌ I couldn’t blow‍‌ into it so‍ easily. Still, I had to.

‘If⁠ I want to‍‌ live, I have‌ no choice.’

This‍⁠ wasn’t an act⁠‍ of pleasure.

It⁠‌⁠ was a matter‌⁠ of survival, a desperate struggle to‍‌‌ stay alive. If⁠‍ all I had⁠ to do was‍‍ act like a pervert to not‌ die, it wasn’t‌ such a bad‌‍ deal.

After‌‌ all, it was‍⁠‌ just borrowing a recorder soaked in‍ a classmate’s saliva.⁠‌ No different than‍⁠ borrowing her gym‍ uniform or a book.

I just had to⁠⁠ play it once⁠⁠‌ and put it‍ back. By the‍‍‍ next day, it’d‌‍⁠ be dry and⁠‌ no one would‌⁠ know.

‘Yeah,‌‌ exactly.’

I nodded to convince‌ myself. With this‍⁠ logic, even a court might consider it a mitigating‌‌ circumstance.

Even⁠‍‍ the owner of‌ the instrument, if⁠ she heard the‌ whole story, would‌ understand and forgive‌ me.

Even‌ though I had⁠ never spoken a word to this‌ “Jin Dayeon” in‍ my life.

Once‍⁠ I completed my⁠⁠‌ self-justification, the unease‍ inside me disappeared.‍‌ I brought the recorder straight to⁠⁠ my mouth.

For⁠ a second, an⁠ indecent thought crossed‌⁠ my mind—but I immediately shook it⁠‌ off.

With‍ my classmate’s recorder‌ on my lips,‍ I blew gently.‍‌

“Fuu~”‍‌‍

Beeeeeep!⁠

A high-pitched, trembling, screeching⁠‌ sound filled the⁠⁠ classroom.