I Activated Cheat Mode in a Bizarre Game

Ready, action!
No sooner had the words been spoken than a man began trudging toward us from the shadows at the end of the alley, his gait slow and lifeless.

But neither Shun nor the rest of us spared him a glance. We were focused entirely on scanning the area with sharp eyes, desperate to locate the monster responsible for this situation.
There was no time to pay attention to a character from the script.
His steps were slow, but he didn’t stop. With every stride that narrowed the distance between him and us, the air in the alley grew heavier.

“Let’s start with those cameras.”
At my suggestion, the rest of the team nodded.
Those cameras and lights, seemingly filming us without end.

They were likely the medium—or at least critical components—of this monster phenomenon.
If we could disable them, maybe the shooting would stop as well.
“Right. No cameras, no filming.”

“I’ll go.”
Bora pulled out a talisman, but Shun was a step faster.
Without another word, Shun charged toward the cameras.

He lunged at the nearest one without a hint of hesitation and delivered a lightning-fast, clean kick.
CRASH—!
With a loud shattering noise, the camera exploded and crashed to the ground in pieces.

“Ooh…”
“It broke.”
We were worried something might happen the moment we attacked the camera—but nothing happened.

It had been destroyed cleanly.
But our brief relief was immediately replaced with confusion.
The fragments of the broken camera disappeared from the ground—then, as if time had reversed, the same model of camera reappeared exactly where it had been.
“…What—?”

BOOM!
CRASH!
Same with the lights.

Even when Shun punched and smashed them, they immediately returned to their original form as if nothing had happened.
“…It’s useless.”
Shun spoke in a low voice.

His expression was laced with frustration.
Clearly, this wasn’t going to work.
Destroying the cameras and lights wouldn’t stop the filming.

“Look…”
“When did they get so close...?”
And then, just as the man reached us—

Shun reacted first.
He let out a short groan and clutched his arm.
“Urgh…!”

“Shun?!”
Park Sunja, quick to notice something was wrong, asked in a concerned voice.
Shun’s face was filled with confusion, his whole body trembling.

He looked down at his hands and arms in disbelief, muttering:
“My body… it’s moving on its own!”
His voice was clearly shaken.

His body was moving without his will, like a puppet pulled by invisible strings.
“It’s trying to move toward that man!”
The second scene of the script flashed through my mind.

Shun was supposed to beat the man mercilessly.
Because Shun had refused to do so, this monster phenomenon was now trying to control his physical body directly.
“Ugh… grrk…!”

Shun fought back desperately.
He resisted the invisible force trying to make his body move, but it wasn’t enough. His body began to turn toward the man.
And then, like a piece of metal drawn to a magnet, he started walking toward him, step by step.

If this continued, Scene #2 would play out exactly as written.
“Ghh!”
I moved instinctively, stepping in front of Shun and grabbing his shoulder with all my strength to stop him.

The force I felt was incredible—but still within what I could manage.
“Hold him!”
Bora, quickly understanding the situation, drew two talismans from her waistband.

“Binding talismans!”
“Hrrgh…”
With a sharp chant, she flung the talismans. They landed cleanly on both of Shun’s ankles and glowed briefly with a blue light, freezing his movement.

He stopped as if shackled by heavy weights.
Only his rough breathing echoed through the alley.
“Haa… it stopped…”

“Is it over…?”
It looked like we’d successfully stopped Shun.
Bora let out a sigh of relief, and Hanbit assumed the situation had stabilized.

But it wasn’t over.
What happened next defied all expectation—utterly absurd.
Tap-tap-tap!

“…Huh?”
Even though we had stopped Shun from moving, the man approaching from the distance suddenly ran forward and threw himself into Shun’s frozen arm with a dramatic “Ugh!”
THUD!

Then, clutching his nose like he’d taken a massive hit, the man collapsed to the ground.
Writhing in mock pain, he glared up at Shun and muttered revenge lines like he was reading straight from the script.
“Just you wait… I’ll… definitely get revenge…!”

“…What the hell?”
It was absurd.
He had clearly just staged an injury.

Shun hadn’t lifted a finger—but now the guy was swearing vengeance as if he’d been assaulted.
And sure enough, that voice echoed again.
Okay! Great performance! Moving on to the next scene!

No sooner had the voice finished speaking than the environment began to warp again.
We found ourselves transported into a small, dark room.
Messy objects were scattered around, and in one corner, a computer was turned on.

It was a tight space, and there were far fewer cameras and lights than before.
“What kind of forced nonsense…?”
“Wait—! The script… it changed.”

Just as Bora was about to explode in outrage, Park Sunja noticed that the second page of the script in her hands had changed—like someone had edited it in ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) real time.
Originally, it had read, “Shun mercilessly beats the man.”
Now it said:

“Though his teammates desperately tried to restrain him, they couldn’t stop his rampage completely. The man was injured and collapsed.”
Our actions—though not perfect—had influenced the script.
Realizing this, I saw a faint glimmer of possibility.

Maybe that was the key to escaping this monster phenomenon.
Not being dragged along, but interfering and rewriting the story ourselves.
Even as that thought settled, the script updated itself again—Scene #3 appearing as though writing itself.

SCENE #3.
The man, vowing revenge on Shun, begins investigating those close to him. His eyes burn with a cold, vengeful light…
Action!
The man had reappeared at some point and now sat at the computer, muttering as he stared at the screen.

He ignored us completely, as if we didn’t exist, and began speaking to himself.
“Shun… Encountered a monster in Japan… Abandoned his friend and ran alone. So that’s why he’s obsessed with strength…”
At the man’s murmuring, Shun’s face instantly went pale.

So that’s why he had such an abnormal obsession with strength—because of some terrible trauma from the past.
His shoulders trembled, a mix of rage and shame.
“…Shut up!”

Unable to take it anymore, Shun bolted forward and launched a fierce kick at the man’s ribs.
WHAM!
The man flew off his chair and collapsed to the floor with a groan.

Silence followed.
“Shun, you can’t just—”
“No, it’s better this way. It was worth trying.”

Just as Hanbit began to speak, Park Sunja cut in.
And then, once again, that eerie voice filled the room.
Cut! Cut! No good! NG! We’re starting from the top! Ready… Action!

What happened next was unbelievable.
The man who had been on the floor stood up slowly, like time had rewound, and sat back down at the computer as if nothing had happened.
Then, just as before, he calmly began reciting private information.

In the exact same voice.
“Shun… Encountered a monster in Japan… Abandoned his friend and ran alone. So that’s why he’s obsessed with strength…”
Shun stared at him, completely drained.

All of us were speechless in the face of this monster phenomenon.
“Attacking the man seems pointless…”
The man continued reading, unfazed.

“Hanbit… You joined the exploration team to escape the inheritance feud in your complicated family…”
Hanbit bit his lip and looked down.
Next was Bora.

“Bora… You joined the exploration team at your grandmother’s urging to find a suitable marriage partner…”
“W-Wait! Not a marriage partner! I was looking for someone to learn talisman arts from…!”
Bora flushed red as she protested.

So she had her own story too.
Then came Park Sunja.
“Park Sunja… An orphan. You haven’t changed your name because you still hold out a sliver of hope…”

Park Sunja glared at the man coldly, but deep in her eyes, there was a sorrow she couldn’t hide.
All our expressions darkened. The air in the room grew so tense, it felt like a needle could pop it.
And finally—it was my turn.

I swallowed dryly, anxious about what secret might be revealed.
Part of me thought I should stop the man, even though I knew it wouldn’t help.
Then the man clutched his head.

He groaned in pain.
He stared at the monitor for a long time, as if reading something.
And then, with great effort—like he had just discovered something enormous—he barely managed to mutter a single line.

“Ugh… Kim Minjun… hated by a dangerous monster… unable to fully use his power…”
Hated by a monster?
…

There were too many things that came to mind.
But the part about being unable to fully use my power—that made sense.
And then, before the man’s words had even finished echoing, the next page of the script materialized in Park Sunja’s hands—Scene #4.

SCENE #4.
The man, having sworn revenge, begins by targeting Shun’s associates one by one. His first destination is…
“Targeting the people around him…”
“Ahem… That means us, doesn’t it?”

I muttered, and Bora answered for me.
Her cheeks were still a little flushed after having her secret exposed.
The monster had marked us—Shun’s companions—as its next targets.

Once again, the environment around us began to shift.
In front of us appeared a grand mansion with a wide, well-maintained garden.