I Activated Cheat Mode in a Bizarre Game

In the end, I carried Han Sora’s cat, Dusty, in her carrier and returned home.
My heart was already pounding before I even opened the front door.

Would the two residents of my house accept this new guest peacefully?
“Leo, Daeho. Come here.”
“Grrr…”

As soon as I stepped inside, I called Leo and Daeho first.
Not knowing why I was calling them, they wandered over lazily—until they spotted the unfamiliar cat carrier in my hand. Then both of them fixed their gaze on it with curious intensity.
I held Daeho back as he sniffed toward it and spoke in the most serious voice I could muster.

“Look here. We’re temporarily looking after a teammate’s cat for a few days. Her name is Dusty. You two—don’t growl at her or try to start a fight. If you do, both of you are getting punished. Got it?”
At my words, Leo and Daeho—my two housemates—let out a simultaneous low growl, “Grrr…”
Whether that meant they understood, or just that they were annoyed, who could say.

In any case, it was a proper answer.
Then, from inside the carrier, a very soft and timid “meow…” came out.
Why are you answering too?

Come to think of it, hearing a cat meow in my house felt strange.
Leo made some pretty unique sounds, after all.
“…Okay. Dusty, come on out.”

In any case, I figured it was time to see how the three of them would adapt to each other—and more importantly, Han Sora had said Dusty hated being kept in her carrier. So I quickly opened the door.
She was supposed to have a feisty temperament, so I thought she might leap out and start hissing right away.
But something was off.

Even with the door wide open, she didn’t come out.
“Dusty, it’s okay. You can come out now.”
I looked inside and called to her, but she didn’t budge.
Wondering what was going on, I leaned closer—and saw her pressed tightly into the farthest corner of the carrier, curled up, refusing to come out.

And she was supposed to hate the carrier most of all.
Maybe she felt so intimidated by the two creatures in my house that the hated carrier now felt like the safest place in the world.
Or maybe it was just the stress of being in an unfamiliar place.

“This won’t do.”
Seeing Dusty still refusing to leave the carrier, I formed a hypothesis.
Gesturing toward the most likely suspect, I said:

“Daeho, go sit behind the sofa for a bit. I think you’re the reason she’s not coming out.”
Daeho gave me the most unfairly accused expression in the world, letting out a soft “grrr…” of protest—but reluctantly slunk off behind the sofa, tail drooping.
Sorry, Daeho.

But you're a tiger. It’s a different category.
Even so, Dusty still didn’t show any sign of wanting to come out.
Eventually, even after I sent Leo up to perch on the living room cabinet, it was only then that she very slowly peeked her head out of the carrier.

After a long hesitation, Dusty finally managed to get all four paws outside.
“Dusty… you’re scared of cats now?”
So much for the ‘strong personality’ I was told about.

The fierce hissing from earlier was nowhere to be seen—now that she was outside the carrier, Dusty clung to my leg, trembling violently.
Like she’d just discovered the safest shelter in the world.
Speechless, I let out a helpless laugh and gently stroked her back.

“Animals usually get close by eating together…”
To help the three of them bond, I decided to prepare a meal.
For Leo and Daeho, I filled their bowls with the fresh raw meat I’d bought yesterday.

For Dusty, I poured out the premium dry food I’d once splurged on for Leo.
But when the meal started, Dusty didn’t even touch her food. Instead, she watched nervously from my leg as Leo and Daeho chomped down on their meat with wild enthusiasm.
With a sigh, I picked up a single kibble and gently brought it toward Dusty’s mouth.

“Meow…”
She sniffed it, then cautiously took it into her mouth.
Apparently it suited her taste—because she finally started crunching away at the food.

Seriously… something’s wrong with my Leo.
He leaves this delicious food untouched and insists on meat every time.
Watching my two cats devour raw meat, and Dusty carefully nibbling on kibble beside them, I got the feeling the next three days weren’t going to be easy.

The next morning, I immediately hit a wall.
I had to leave for work—and Dusty, who was stuck to me like glue, would be left home alone.
Since dinner the night before, Dusty hadn’t left my side for a second.

If I went to the living room, she followed. If I went to my room, she followed. Even when I slept, she clung to my arm.
Anyone would’ve thought I was her real owner.
“What am I supposed to do with you…”

The reason was obvious.
Leo still reigned supreme over the apartment like a king, and Daeho now took up the whole couch with his bulk.
To Dusty, clearly, I was the only # Nоvеlight # safe haven.

Looking again, both Leo and Daeho had gotten pretty big.
After getting ready for work, I gently lowered Dusty—who was still clinging to my leg—down to the floor.
“Dusty, I’m going to work now. Stay home for a bit, okay? I’ll be back soon.”

Dusty looked up at me, trembling all over, like she was about to cry.
Meanwhile, the supposed threats—Leo and Daeho—didn’t even spare her a glance.
They were too busy with their new toy.

They were growling and tugging at a paper talisman I’d thrown to amuse them—chewing, biting, tearing it apart.
For reference, I’d been steadily practicing my talisman-throwing ever since Bora gave me advice, and I could now launch them a decent distance.
I still didn’t really grasp how to imbue them with energy, but as cat toys, they were more than enough.

Only after confirming the two of them were more obsessed with the talisman than Dusty could I finally leave the house with a little peace of mind.
As soon as I arrived at HQ, Team 10 was assigned a new rescue mission.
But this one was a bit different—it was a joint operation with the police.

According to Team Leader Park’s briefing, the suspect in a major criminal case had escaped a police perimeter by running into an ongoing monster phenomenon near the area.
“The objective is to secure the suspect and assess the interior situation.”
A suspect who fled into a monster event to escape the police.

Riding in Baekho’s exploration vehicle on our way to the scene, Bora looked incredulous.
“No, seriously, how does that make sense? Just to avoid the police, he runs into a place that’s basically a shortcut to the afterlife? What was he thinking?”
Park Sunja, driving up front, glanced at us in the rearview mirror and added:

“According to the support team’s intel, the suspect’s primary charges are drug trafficking and habitual use. It’s possible he really wasn’t in his right mind.”
A drug offender. That did make a certain kind of sense.
If he was high or suffering withdrawal-induced psychosis, maybe he would make a move like that.

Incidentally, Han Sora was currently on vacation, so Park Sunja had been staying in contact with Rahee instead.
When we reached the site, several police vehicles were already parked around the narrow alley entrance, yellow police tape strung across it.
A police officer in charge approached us, and after a brief conversation with Park Sunja, we were allowed past the line.

The tension in the air was thick, the officers all grim-faced.
“This way.”
“This alley?”

“Yes.”
And then—we saw it.
The monster phenomenon we’d heard about.

It was an incredibly narrow and dark alley, wedged between run-down villa buildings.
But the strange part was what lay at the far end of that narrow space.
Where there should have been a blank wall, something else entirely shimmered into view—a vast, unnatural interior.

Like peeking through a tiny door crack into the inside of a massive cathedral. A warped spatial distortion.
“Support team, any data on this phenomenon?”
Park Sunja asked through the radio.

Rahee’s voice came through.
“Sorry, but there’s too little information. If we had more data, we might be able to compare it to other known cases…”
In other words, we wouldn’t know until we went in.

We exchanged looks, nodded in silent agreement.
There was no other choice.
Whether to gather data—or catch the suspect—we had to go into that grotesquely twisted space ourselves.

What I didn’t know then…
Was what was happening back at home.