Transmigrated as the Side Top used as an Emotional Trash Can

As expected, Kim Jihwan really was the protagonist.

My proud friend, my baby.

You grew up so well. Seriously.

“Jihwan-ah, I trust you. You know that, right?”

“…Yeah.”

―Has bloomed.

Another period of complete stillness arrived. Kim Jihwan was in the upper 160-centimeter range, while I was in the lower 180s. Since there was a considerable difference in our builds, calling someone for help was wiser than trying to carry me. But would a Death Game like this really let someone escape the building so easily?

I moved only my eyes and checked outside the window. There were no students running across the field. That meant not a single person had managed to escape the school building yet. Was it structured so that we had to fulfill some condition before we could leave?

―The mugunghwa.

“Jihwan-ah, if things don’t work out, meet me in the classroom where we had career class.”

In case Kim Jihwan failed, I designated a place for us to meet later. Kim Jihwan nodded and continued quickly down the stairs. Perhaps because he had the protagonist buff, or perhaps it was simply his nature, he played the game calmly.

If it were me, I would’ve already died eight times here.

“When I get married someday, I’m definitely having a son like our Jihwan-ie.”

With a grunt, I grabbed the stair railing and pulled myself up. Through the speakers, a child’s cheerful voice continued repeating that the mugunghwa flower had bloomed at regular intervals.

“Ugh, my ankle seriously….”

My ankle hurt so badly whenever I moved that I considered simply dying. Whether I lived or died, I still needed to reach either the broadcasting room or the classroom in the next building where we had taken career class, so I stopped thinking and moved my body.

“Hnnng… Mommm….”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Can anyone make a call? Is there no one who can contact someone outside?!”

As I limped down the hallway while supporting myself against the wall, I saw all kinds of students. Some stood completely still and hid themselves, some desperately tried to move somewhere, and some had fallen behind after being injured like me.

“Does anyone have the key to the broadcasting room?!”

“Fuck, how would anyone have thought to bring that?! Just break it down!”

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who had thought of it. Several students were already making a commotion in front of the broadcasting room.

―The mugunghwa flower.

“Try opening it faster…!”

“It won’t open! It won’t budge!”

―Has bloomed.

Freeze.

The students hurriedly stopped and moved again and again as they tried to open the door, but the broadcasting room door didn’t budge.

―The mugunghwa.

Clang! Claaang!

A student holding a fire extinguisher struck the broadcasting room’s metal door handle hard enough to send sparks flying. It didn’t leave a single scratch, so it seemed the door wasn’t designed to open through physical force. Or perhaps the room couldn’t be entered through the door at all.

“Guys, what about going through the window?”

After watching from behind, I offered a suggestion. Several of the students who were drenched in sweat from trying only to break down the door agreed. They entered the classroom directly beside the broadcasting room and opened the window.

“Hey! I think we can get across! The window’s open!”

“Move, I’ll go! Hold on to me!”

Korean high schoolers were truly experts at climbing over walls and through windows. These guys had probably played around like this even outside a Death Game, so they acted as though being on the fourth floor while wearing slippery three-striped slippers posed no danger whatsoever.

They’re seriously dependable.

I feel so much more at ease….

“Hey, there’s no one inside?!”

―The mugunghwa flower has bloomed.

“…….”

No?! Then is this a ghost story?

It isn’t some mysterious force of darkness?

Ah, please. I’d rather just die. I’m scared of ghosts….

“…But there is a teddy bear sitting in front of the microphone!”

The student peering into the broadcasting room while clinging to the window finished what he had been saying. Ah, a teddy bear? It had a physical form? Then it wasn’t scary.

I had no room to complain about how shamelessly my brain changed its mind based solely on whether something had a physical form. If I wasn’t scared anymore, that was good enough.

“Wouldn’t it end if you touched the teddy bear and shouted, ‘Got you!’?”

I acted like the clever character in a Death Game who lacked physical ability but was essential for overcoming the situation.

“What? How would that make any sense?”

“Ah! Fuck, I don’t know! I’ll go try it!”

The students questioned my suggestion, but the guy who had climbed through the window acted faster.