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Chronosseum
HOUR IV: Premiere Game - II

HOUR IV: Premiere Game - II

What I'm feeling right now is much worse than the calf muscle cramps I suffered in the middle of a basketball game long ago. I even still can remember how that feels, but this just hit me differently. There's nothing I can do right now but scream and say inappropriate words.

I can clearly notice Mr. Wayne's wondering, surprised, and panicked behavior in my blurred vision from squinting because of pain. How he didn’t; not even five steps away from the first gate, I was already in a pitiful state.

I ask Mr. Wayne to continue the course without me. In a low, stuttering voice, I tell him that I'm in the worst condition right now and can't keep on. I also explained to him that if my condition improved, I would definitely be able to catch up before he got to the next checkpoint. At first, he was unsure and willing to carry me even to the finish line. But that would only slow us down. I don't know how long this thing attacking me will stop.

He seems to understand, and I'm sure with a heavy heart, he leaves me sprawled.

Okay, now about what happened to me. As the first gate behind me closed, a sound aired at me incessantly. Seeing Mr. Wayne, who didn't react and could still move his body effortlessly, there was only one conclusion: a high-frequency sound. Of course, Mr. Wayne's hearing capabilities were already desensitized to this sound due to his age. I couldn't explain this to Mr. Wayne earlier; I was so shocked myself that my head went blank, even though it’s clearly a high-frequency sound.

Five minutes had passed but the situation had not improved. Initially, I thought this sound was played to give one of the participants in the same tunnel a little upper hand. But that's just stupid because ultimately, don't the two participants have to press the button together to open the gate? Based on this, I come back to a crazy conclusion; that this is a violent way to obstruct the game. This is very likely to be done by whoever designed all of this as a 'challenge'. What's more, It's been too peaceful for this suspicious game I'm participating in.

I've probably spent ten minutes sitting helplessly on the train tracks by now—this time I don't know which part of my body to hold with my two precious hands. I'm already starting to feel the pain of my knees that have been pierced and scratched by pebbles, but the high-frequency sound forced me to use my hands for ear purpose. However, both are equally painful.

Yet, no matter how hard I try, my hands can't block all the sound. It's a high-frequency sound with a pretty high volume too. I’m reminded of the white sheet of fabric that was available at the checkpoint earlier. With its soft and thick material, I'm sure it will be beneficial to block out this sound. I still don't know if that was put there on purpose. But the existence of the white fabric with what I’m suffering doesn't seem like a coincidence.

I can't linger here. I don't want to be an obstacle for Mr. Wayne. I don't know how long I've been sitting stupidly. I lose track of time and it's tough for me to look at the TickBit because the sound will fiercely attack me the moment I remove my hand. So I have to run without knowing the time with my ears covered. And of course, I have to leave the two isotonic bottles behind. I regret I didn't gulp it all down at the checkpoint.

I try to stand up without being supported by my hands. It will be easy if my knee isn't hurt. Even though I'm wearing jeans that are quite thick, the sharp pebbles can still pierce and scratch my knee caps. Moreover, I fell hard earlier.

With much effort, I'm finally able to stand. It never occurred to me that doing a task as easy as standing could be so excruciating.

I slowly open my eyes. Of course nothing is different; it’s just that everything looks swaying. I feel very dizzy. Listening to high-frequency sounds for a long time is terrible for the body and ears. I've wasted my time, sitting so idiotic that my body exposed too much of the sound. Now I have to try even harder just to walk.

Before running, I want to feel my feet first. I stomp my feet and find that my left leg doesn’t hurt too much. My right leg, on the other hand (haha), was the source of my ache when I stood up. Well, I have to run a little slower. And limping.

I'm counting down in my mind. 3… 2… 1…

I limp-running carefully, leaving the two precious liquor bottles behind me, onto the second checkpoint, which God only knows how far away it is.

***

If running with an old man in a narrow tunnel I call a bad experience, then limping alone in a narrow tunnel with a high-frequency sound constantly bothering my ears is the worst. Moreover, seriously, I feel like this tunnel is narrower than usual. The longer my eyes looked, the bumpier the tunnel walls became. My eyes are a little blurry and I can see stars. Is this a symptom of high-frequency sound overdose?

I slightly reduce my speed (even though it's already like a snail) to look behind. I can no longer see the first gate. At least, I'm making progress. However, I feel I haven't run far. Only God knows how far I've run.

Sorry, I've been using the term “only God knows” lately because, well, only God knows. Only God knows how long I've been running and what number is showing on the watch now. Guess who is holding the race and where is this located? That's right; you couldn't have guessed it because only the goddamn God knows all about it. So I can only pray to God.

Don't blame me; I also want to know what God knows, at least how long I have been running and where I have reached. But I don't want to risk damaging my only sense of hearing to seek what God knows. This high-frequency sound is driving me nuts.

My current situation might have been much better if the running track was a small path beside the lake. Or a particular track in the middle of the woods? I won't complain. Even though I'm being tormented like this, at least there's a view I can see. I mean, I understand train tracks are a 'track', but they shouldn't use a train station setting to hold a running Olympics, right? It may be true that it can also be used for running, but it's for trains. Even a baby knows that humans running in the train station will only harm themselves. Let alone racing. It's strange why the organizers decided to hold a running race in a train tunnel.

I should be thankful though that no train hit me from behind. Or from the front? Where is this tunnel heading, actually? Well, no train at least.

This is quite chilly at least, even though it's not on the edge of a lake or in a shady forest. Especially now that it's raining. No, I don't hear the rain at all. There's no way I hear anything beyond high-frequency sound at this point. I could tell from the cloudy sky that I could see a bit from the air vent. Maybe not heavy because the sky is not too dark. Then I felt the coldness in the air. My eyes are blurry so I can't see for sure, but it's definitely raining, right?

I’m intensifying my running speed again. With this breeze atmosphere, I can 'enjoy' this competition more.

And that didn't age well. It wasn't long before I picked up my speed; I was already gasping for air. Actually, I feel like I still have a lot of stamina, but my body feels very heavy. Well, with me unable to swing my arms and limp-running, I expend more energy just to maintain my balance. I also think the shirt I'm wearing inside my sweater is soaking. Looks like I'm drenched in sweat.

Hahaha, I remember Mr. Wayne who was drenched in sweat even though he had only been jogging for three seconds. Is this karma?

Uh. Wait! Wait. T-shirt… Sweater… And Mr. Wayne…

Am I stupid?

I'm wearing two outfits! One of them I can use as a tool to cover my ears! I wouldn't be able to take off any of my clothes right now because if I left the slightest gap between my hand and ear, I would definitely pass out. There was Mr. Wayne before, we should be able to work together if I could think straight and not overreact right away! I can ask him to help bring the drinks too.

I let my guard down and panicked, and then, of course, I was an idiot too.

I stop in anger. The irony is that I can think more clearly. Now, I feel like I won't benefit from using one of my clothes as an earplug. If I used the sweater as an aid, how can I run stably in this cold temperature? If I used the t-shirt, I'm willing to bet that I wouldn't be as good as I am right now because it's uncomfortable to wear this sweater straight to the body. My nipps would be tickled.

Asking Mr. Wayne for bringing the drinks? Useless. Seeing how Mr. Wayne drank earlier, I couldn't entrust the drink supply to him. It would end up in his stomach.

Regardless, when I left the white fabric at the previous checkpoint, it was the beginning of my terrible position. Whatever I do after the first gate closes will be meaningless without the white fabric.

Well, it seems I'm not a fool, just a person out of luck. But maybe a bit of an idiot.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Accepting all the misfortunes and hardships (and a bit of stupidity) I'm going through right now, I'm back on the greatest limpy journey.

***

I don't know how much time and distance I have traveled until I finally run out of energy at this time. I feel like I'm dying. Maybe I've made a lot of progress, maybe not. I do not know.

Really, this race would be nothing without the noise. I've consumed too much of that sound. My vision is blurry from time to time. The tunnel walls are not even straight in my eyes anymore. I'm nauseous. It's the umpteenth time that undigested chocolate jam toast is pushed up into my mouth. I choose not to spit it out because my stomach will be empty and I'll suffer more from it for the rest of the race.

Is this hell?

I'm facing a tough choice right now. I feel like I can't go on with this anymore. But if I give up and stand still, I will suffer more because of this voice. Not to mention the punishment that might befall me because I didn't reach the finish line.

Is this some kind of punishment for me? Did I do something wrong in real life?

I decided to keep going slowly, even if it meant that I had to suffer longer.

***

I can't even stand up anymore. My whole body is like a jello. My energy is at absolute zero.

This is none other than the high-frequency sound fault, in which volume continued to increase as I walked.

I feel incredibly dizzy. Not for a second I can hold my head up. What I see through my eyes is wavy and distorted, just like before I passed out and was brought into this world. It's been a long time since I've seen this train track wavy up and down and sideways.

I finally vomited the undigested toast that had been struggling to come out of my mouth alongside my intestine’s contents. Now my stomach feels so empty.

I want to just faint.

I fall face down—my face side to side with the gut soup. My mouth sweetly kisses the wood that binds the train tracks. I remove my hands from my ears because I honestly don't care anymore, and everything sounds the same. What happens to me after this is up to God alone.

I really wanted to give up until Mr. Wayne's face popped into my mind. Not only that, the faces of his daughter and wife also appear even though I don't know how they looked. I'm sure my brain just drew the faces of the prettiest middle-aged women and the cutest little girls randomly from my memory.

By the way, I can't even remember the names of Mr. Wayne's wife and daughter. Looks like he forgot to tell me their name.

What is clear for me is that I remember how important the following Sunday is to Mr. Wayne. At least I'll help him by not slowing him down. I don't know what will happen to both of us if I can't finish the race, and I'm not going to take the risk of learning it. And honestly, I think that we will finish in the bottom two, hence I would volunteer to be the last to cross the finish line and receive the punishment. This is all my fault after all.

Mr. Wayne is not someone who deserves to be the reason for me to keep going. He's nothing to me, let alone someone who matters to me. But when I remember the story, I know that I shouldn't mess this all up. Besides, thanks to the story that just popped, I was also reminded of the people around me. My girlfriend, Mama, and Johann. What will they do if something horrible happens because I can't finish this race? At least I think it's better for me to accept whatever the punishment.

I have to keep going, even if that means I have to crawl.

To drown the noise out, I crawl using my right hand only. The fool I am; I don't realize that the gut soup is on my right side. Well, being a right-handed person, my instinct is to use the right hand. The right sleeve of my girlfriend's gift sweater ended up getting soiled with shapeless toast. But I don't care. I still have to finish this race. Nora, forgive me. I swear to clean this up.

I feel the power that Mr. Wayne felt when he got excited again before. The difference is that my strength springs out of my despair. It doesn't increase my stamina, but it's enough to raise my will to keep going.

Little by little, I get closer to the finish line. I'm sure I can work this out. However, when I turn my face forward and allow my eyes to see what lies ahead, I become desperate again. The darkness that I see through these blurry eyes slaps me with a harsh reality of the long journey I have to go through. The finish line is not as close as I thought.

Isn't this the same as crawling for 10 kilometers?

My spirit fell down to the lowest ground. How many years will it take to complete this? I chuckle without realizing it.

I grip a pebble I can reach with my right hand and throw it into the darkness that stretched far ahead for no reason at all. I was really desperate, hoping that little rock could replace me reaching the finish line. I watch closely as the pebble rolls further and further into the gloom before finally coming back towards me and stopping right before my very eyes.

Have I gone lunatic? How can this little rock roll back?

I see a figure running towards me from the darkness. I sharpened my vision by squinting, though it didn't help. A young man in a uniform comes up to me. Hmm... I think I've seen that uniform somewhere. He pinned a white fabric on his hat, covering his ears.

Wait, was I hallucinating from being overly exposed to high-frequency sounds? Or is it a grim reaper? No way.

No. The completely human-like hand pats my shoulder, giving off a real touch sensation. He crouches down in front of me and keeps shaking my shoulders. Perhaps he's trying to ensure if the poor guy lying in front of him is still alive. I try my best, but I can only lift my head slightly and find his groin. This is an uncomfortable view.

He then sits me down and helps me lean against the tunnel wall. He shoves a drink into my mouth. My vision is blurry and everything is so bumpy, but I'm sure this drink is the same brand as the drink I left behind. I can't help but suck the entire content. Then he hands me a white fabric.

With my weak hands, I receive the cloth and confusedly look at him. He gives a gesture to use this fabric as a way to cover my ears. Oh yeah, right. This is the exact same thing as the one I saw at the previous checkpoint.

Then I wrap the cloth around my head, and with the help of both hands, I pin it to cover my ear. This feels a lot more pleasant, although my ears are still buzzing.

Seeing that I had covered my ears well, the young man immediately extended his hand, helping me to stand up. I don't have the strength anymore, but I have to try to stand up. He also pulls me to my feet and helps maintain my balance. My legs hurt so bad, especially the injured one.

Just about I'm getting ready to walk again, the young man stops me. He's intent on carrying me. At first I refused, but my body was against my will. As soon as I step in, my body immediately loses its balance. The young man swiftly catches me and tries various ways so that I can be carried in a cozy spot on his back.

This young man actually does not have a good body shape. But he is strong enough to run by carrying me, who has more or less the same posture as him. He has probably been running with me on his back for a minute at an average speed, and there is no sign of slowing down.

Now back to my most important question. Who exactly is this man? With much effort and a low voice, I ask him. Even letting out the slightest voice was exhausting me. Though I whispered directly into his ear, I guess he couldn't hear anything with his cloth and hands covering his ears.

But he seems to notices that I said something. He turns a little towards me and seems to be muttering. Of course I can’t hear too; I barely hear anything he's saying because my ears are buzzing so loud.

I couldn't hear what you were saying, but don't worry. I'll take you to the finish line. Now sleep, let me do the work. By the way, you're very wet.

That's roughly what he tells me (assumption). That's why I close my eyes.

***

The young man lowers my left hand from my left ear. I woke up because of it. I'm a little paranoid about the sound, but it seems that the noise has disappeared. I'm proud of myself for being able to sleep with my hands covering my ears.

"Sorry to disturb your sound sleep, but we'll be there soon." He explained as he removed the white cloth from his hat.

The tunnel we went through revealed a wider and bigger tunnel. It turns out that this tunnel is a combination of the tunnel I went through with the tunnel next to it, so that here are four railroad tracks.

All of this makes sense. Since it was impossible for Mr. Wayne to turn around, he asked a player from another tunnel to pick me up and help me.

Now in front of me stands a much bigger and sturdier gate that fits the tunnel’s wider shape, written number 2 on its face. Yes, that is none other than the last gate before the finish line. Looks like I missed the second checkpoint. But, well, there must be nothing left there. At least I've had a drink.

Unlike the previous gate, which was a unified whole, this gate is more like four gates attached to each other and standing in front of each rail. Besides that, it looks more complicated. There is one monitor and one smaller monitor on its top, embedded in each of the four gates. There's also a small bulb next to the small monitor. And, of course, cables were strewn all over the place.

Sorted from left to right, my track is on the far left, Mr. Wayne's next, one empty track I assume is the young man's track, and the rail in the far right belongs to this young man's partner. Each of us is on our respective track, except obviously the young man who gave his body as my transportation.

I see Mr. Wayne sitting cross-legged in front of the gate of his track. He doesn't wear any clothes, only the undershirt on his body. Looks like he took off his coat and shirt because it was too wet and too uncomfortable to wear or something. He didn't forget his name label and put it on the middle of his undershirt. I'm surprised at how dry his body is, even though he was usually covered in sweat after running.

Meanwhile, the young man's partner stood and leaned against the tunnel wall in the far right. He's wearing a long brown coat and I'm sure he has a shirt under it, then suit pants, and his feet are covered in formal loafers. Looks very classy. As a complementary accessory, he wears black gloves and a black fedora. How can he run with that drip?

The man lowered his face down and closed his eyes. From the burning embers of the cigarette in his mouth, it was clear that his face was bored and annoyed. With a fairly thick stubble on his face, I can estimate his age, probably around 40. His appearance gives me the impression of being dangerous, but I am not sure. Wait, how can he have cigarettes?

Sigh… Judging by Mr. Wayne's dry body and the bored face of the bearded man, it looks like I wasted a lot of time. Moreover, Mr. Wayne cannot run fast so there is a long delay before asking for help. In this case, time has become unimportant.

Seeing my arrival, Mr. Wayne immediately stands up from where he's sitting. I was almost happy that he greeted me, but it wasn't a friendly face. He looked outraged.

"Hey!" He shouted while pointing at me. Hence the bearded man glared at me as well.

“Look at that brat who's holding back our group! I told you not to eat much earlier! How insolent, you'll have to bear the consequences if we happen to be the last four!”

Uh? What did he try to say?