Story Reader / Event Story / Summer Anecdotes / Story
Despite its battered, crumbling exterior, the inside of the abandoned apartment is surprisingly intact. Cracks run everywhere, but none of them go all the way through.
A warning sign made from concrete walls and boarded-up windows blocks every bit of light. Now that the interior lamps are broken, darkness is all that remains.
The flashlight is the only source of light, barely pushing back the shadows in a small circle around you.
Maybe it's just your survival instincts kicking in, but you can't shake the feeling that something is about to jump out from the pitch-black void at any moment.
In the faint light, you see the floor is old and worn, with chairs and stools knocked over. Everything's scattered, but it's surprisingly not dirty.
Hmm...
Looks like someone's really into this.
It's strange—you feel that, rather than noticing what's around it, Teddy is more wrapped up in you.
(Cough...)
A gentle cough interrupts your thoughts.
Anyway, we should listen closely to see if there's anything odd going on.
！
It sounds like it's coming from upstairs.
Teddy says this and looks your way. Now, even if you try to refuse, she's definitely dragging you along...
You follow the sound up to the fourth floor of the apartment, coming to a halt outside Room 404.
Those digits feel eerily appropriate for this place.
You press your ear to the door and confirm the odd noise is coming from within. Beyond that, everything is silent.
You twist the doorknob and hear the lock click open. Sharing a quick look with Teddy, you ease the door open.
Inside, there's no frantic commotion—only a minimalist room, with Constellia's light streaming in through the window.
The bed and table are in full view, with nothing concealed. An iron wardrobe stands flush against the wall, and a faint noise hums from inside.
There's no reply—just that same trembling sound pulsing away.
Should we open it?
You hook your fingers around the cabinet's groove and pull, but it barely budges.
You push with both hands, the grating squeak making your teeth ache, as you barely force open a gap that's only slightly bigger than a fist.
You slip your arm through the narrow gap, feeling around for the item at the bottom, and finally pull it out.
It's a terminal...
You press the pause button, and the eerie noise instantly stops.
The tension in your head loosens right away.
You turn around, and the room looks the same as ever, except there's no sign of Teddy.
There's nothing but silence.
You shout for Teddy a few times, letting your voice echo through the open corridors. The sound quickly fades away, leaving nothing but silence behind.
The light scans every corner of the room, but it reveals nothing out of the ordinary.
The corridor is empty. The door is still ajar, exactly as you left it, so nobody has passed through it since.
Has she really vanished?
There are no Corrupted or Hetero-Creature in this abandoned apartment—no real threats at all. With Teddy's level of skill, almost nothing here can pose a danger to her.
Even so, you still feel uneasy not knowing where Teddy is...
You remember Teddy standing right beside you as you opened the wardrobe. It only took you about ten seconds from turning the knob to retrieving what's inside, but in that brief moment, she vanished...
How did she vanish?
No, what really matters now is why she vanished.
But how is that even possible...?
Looking back at the terminal in your hand, it suddenly hits you—if the answer was this simple, the previous investigators would have definitely noticed it.
Which means... it's probably a trap!
Clang!
The door behind you, left half-open, suddenly slams shut.
Tap tap tap tap—
That eerie sound is back.
But this time, it isn't coming from the device in your hand—it's coming from that metal wardrobe.
The wardrobe door, which was stuck tight a moment ago, now swings outward with a sharp, creaking protest.
A shadow shaped like an arm is slowly stretching out from within.
The terminal lights up on its own in your hand. Flickering moire patterns shimmer on the screen as line after line of gibberish floods the interface.
WARNING: Memory overflow at TE%06B3.009
!FAULT@#009 - *Undefined_sequence D- 93%&
DY CRASH REPORT >> $Panic_overflow - log#58.331
The wardrobe door is swinging open, and the terminal keeps spitting out garbled code. You glance at the wardrobe, then at the device in your hand, shifting your focus back and forth.
Then you freeze in place.
You're so absorbed in the wardrobe and the terminal that you only now realize there's something right behind you, inches away.
Teddy—
A cold breeze grazes the back of your neck.
Over here!
A sudden voice echoes, making your heart lurch. You almost cry out as you leap back, arms raised in defense, ready for any surprise attack.
But the sound that follows is a familiar burst of laughter.
Ahahaha...
The pink-haired Construct doubles over, clutching her stomach as she nearly sinks to the floor.
You just... ha... almost... launched yourself into the air... hahaha!
Meanwhile, the wardrobe door opens smoothly, and a familiar mechanoid emerges.
Success! Success! High five!
With the startled you still staring in confusion, the Construct doubles over in laughter, and the mechanoid flails around in excitement. They lightly slap their palms together.
Just like music and painting, urban legends are a distinctive form of art.
So I'm going to be the ultimate urban-legend artist! This abandoned apartment is my masterpiece!
Woohoo! The great art maestro! The free-spirited crafter of urban legends!
You give up on prying anything out of Kiske, who's totally wrapped up in his own hype, and turn your gaze to Teddy, who's finally managed to stop laughing.
Even though she's holding it together now, the way her lips keep curving up tells you she's only a second away from cracking up again.
We charge for this, you know.
You point at Kiske, then indicate the apartment building underfoot.
Yeah, these awakened machines are definitely running malware again. First, they're Picasso wannabes, then vinyl hoarders, then garage band rejects—now they're all "ooh, we're urban legend artists!"
Honestly, this whole "urban legend artist" business is just a fancy way to spook people with flashy tricks.
Take this abandoned apartment, for example. They renovated it with hidden corridors and secret doors. Right here in this room, the hidden passage is inside the wardrobe...
The most dangerous spot is actually the safest. I stay right behind you the entire time, and for a Construct like me, it's no big deal.
After they finished designing hidden passages and secret doors, they went online and spread creepy stories that played out like a twisted game of hide-and-seek.
When someone comes to check, odd sounds start up in the room. The instant anyone gets close, they duck through the hidden door, leaving no sign they were ever there.
All the bizarre rumors in other areas follow this same pattern.
I can't help but envy how they get to spend their days doing absolutely nothing.
I hired an assistant for the price of a cherry-flavored electrolyte drink, and she shared everything she uncovered with me.
It's totally worth it—I really don't see why anyone would pass on such a deal.
That being said, you are still really curious.
Until now, every check has only focused on the abandoned apartment itself. Kiske and his team cover their tracks so thoroughly that they leave no trace behind.
But I took a different route. I dived into the network and tried to figure out where the rumors about the abandoned apartment first appeared.
I was just giving it a shot at first, but it turned out they were so careless that I tracked down Kiske's account right away. Once I questioned him, everything came to light.
Not at all, Gray Raven Commandant.
Just then, Kiske, the one who keeps calling himself an "urban-legend artist," runs over suddenly.
We're artists, and this abandoned apartment is our creation. Whether it's the physical world or cyberspace, we never let our guard down.
Regarding our online presence, we installed multiple layers of anti-tracking measures. But this Construct lady cracked them all—she clearly went through quite a struggle to do it.
You set up anti-tracking programs?
Sorry. They were so easy to bypass that I barely noticed.
E-even if our online security still needs work, our real-world defenses are rock-solid!
After all, you had already pinpointed me, but it still took you a full day to find me!
Yes. That's why I was willing to tell her the truth. Part of me was afraid she would plant a virus in me, but I was also moved by her persistence.
From Teddy's laid-back tone, you assumed she locked onto Kiske in Babylonia, then landed and immediately found out the truth, all in one smooth, effortless move.
But it turns out that after marking Kiske, she actually spent a whole day searching for him—burning through one of her rare, hard-won vacation days...
Uh-hum.
Catching Teddy's scowl—a silent "Cut the monologue, genius"—Kiske bolts away from the scene, his retreat punctuated by a final, grandiose cry: "Behold the Urban Legend Artist!"
Honestly, Kiske and his crew mean no harm. They just want to spice up the vacation, never expecting to dump extra work onto SOME UNLUCKY PERSON.
I've reported everything, and by dusk, Babylonia has sent an email to the staff on duty, setting them free.
I specifically told them to skip you. Otherwise, everything would be out in the open, right?
☆!
Teddy blinks and mouths, "You're welcome."
She hums a cheerful tune as she pushes the window open, letting the sound of the waves fill the room.
It's pretty close to the beach here, and you happen to be off-duty, too...
She turns around, giving you a soft smile.
How about we step outside and catch some fresh air?
You walk along the shore, your footprints forming two parallel trails in the sand behind.
Hmm...
Teddy stretches contentedly in the ocean breeze, feeling utterly relaxed.
Suddenly, half the distant sky lights up in a burst of color, painting dazzling scenes across the horizon.
Fireworks...
Must be the concert's closing ceremony. It's putting on quite a show.
Teddy raises her head, looking up at the sky. The fireworks sparkle in her eyes, reflecting a rainbow of colors.
Hmm?
She turns to meet your eyes and then nods with a warm smile.
Yeah, I was.
It's not just the concert—the seaside villa, Sunset Rock, and the undersea boardwalk... Everything on my list was carefully chosen, and I was really excited about all of them.
But I ended up missing every single one and spent the whole day racing around Constellia, trying to figure out what was causing those weird noises late at night in that abandoned apartment.
And it was all because of you! So I was totally going to scare the living daylights out of you—otherwise, I'd never get a decent night's sleep.
I know, and that's exactly what bothered me the most.
It's my vacation, so shouldn't I decide if it's ruined or not?
Just look at me now: I'm missing the concert, not visiting a single attraction, and I'm basically using my vacation time to work...
But I'm not saying I'm unhappy today.
Although if I didn't manage to scare you—or if you were too dull about it—I'd probably end up upset.
And you still dare to talk back?
You know how much you owe me this time? Let me break it down for you.
First, you used the data your assistant gathered outside her usual responsibilities, so now you owe extra—and I'm billing you at a new rate.
Second, you owe me a can of ice-cold drink.
Third, I made it clear already when you asked for an explanation: I charge a fee for that.
Anyway, I'm adding all three together.
She doesn't give you a second to argue. With her hands tucked behind her back, she strides closer in a heartbeat, closing the gap between you.
In an instant, she's standing intimately close.
Commandant, you owe me so much already, so asking you to promise me just one thing isn't too much, is it?
From now on, if something like this happens again, you're not allowed to pull the same stunt you did today.
And don't even think about holding back because you're worried about inconveniencing me.
Don't worry. If I really hate doing something, I will turn it down without hesitation.
Anyway, that's the deal. I may say no, but you must come and ask for my help.
What's wrong with that? This is your special treatment. Others would kill for it.
The pink-haired Construct leans in, rising onto her tiptoes to whisper in your ear.
So go on, lean on me a little more, okay?
Then, as if she's gauging your reaction, she steps back again.
After all, I'm the smarter one here, aren't I?
The pink-haired Construct walks across the waves toward the open sea. She turns around, and moonlight blends with the shoreline's glow, lighting up her annoying yet endearing smile.
It's a deal then. No backing out!
Annoying? Perhaps.
Endearing? Definitely.
