BANG!
The once unblemished aluminum surface of the door welted, denting forward from an unseen force behind it.
BANG!
Elicited another loud bang.
BANG!
The unseen force struck again.
SREECH…~
After several relatively powerful consecutive attacks, the aluminum door—now dangerously dented forward—began to groan from its hinges.
With a final punch deliberately aimed toward the door's center, the aluminum door's hinges—no longer able to take the burden of the frontal assault—consequently shattered.
Clang!~ Clang!~
The door, with nothing left to hold it in place, flung forward into the ninth-floor hallway.
After skidding against the linoleum floor for several seconds, the door ceased movement.
From the eldritch darkness of the stairwell, Minho walked forward, passing through his newly formed entrance.
Giving a quick glance to the crumpled door, he sneered in annoyance.
His mood—already shitty because of Rue's childish antics and his grandfather's fox-like cunningness—had further worsened in temperament because of the fucking creature in the stairwell.
Even thinking about the entity involuntarily made him shiver to the bone.
That overwhelmingly eerie feeling of uncharacteristic hope he had felt when he heard the sweet, patient tone of his long since deceased childhood sweetheart almost made him crack under pressure.
Fortunately, he was armed with his grandfather's earlier statement of caution about the entity's omnipresence in all darkness of the Trial.
If his grandfather hadn't forewarned him, then well… Minho would have fallen under the entity's spell and spoken.
Resolving himself from the past few minutes of torment, Minho—now with a "clear" head—looked around the ninth floor.
It was the same as the rest, with the exception of the long window that provided a rather nice bird's-eye view of the city.
However, enjoying this pleasantry was not available at the current moment.
Not sparing any time to sightsee, Minho, spear in hand, began to trod down the long corridor at a practiced pace.
Walking for several seconds down the hall, he suddenly stopped.
Faced with the first of the many closed doors he would have to check behind in this hall, he sighed, glaring at the door.
Reaching for the door handle, Minho gave a few tugs to determine whether it was locked or not.
Unfortunately, it was locked—but on that breath of misfortune lay a silver lining—the door was luckily made of cheap wood.
Hence, it was weak.
Distancing himself a few paces from the door, Minho leaned his waist back, propped his pelvis up, lifted his foot, and kicked the door open.
Bang!
The door parted, allowing Minho entry.
It was an orderly-looking office.
There was an alright-looking wooden desk and a spinning office chair settled in the room's center.
That was all.
Briefly glancing over the office space, he turned his body right, heading toward the proceeding door down the hall.
Reaching the second door, he noticed that, as with the other, it was locked.
Not putting much thought into it, Minho— in sync with his current routine—kicked the door down.
With the annoying obstruction out of the way, he swept his gaze over the interior of the room.
He found nothing
It was the same as the last office.
Minimalistic and empty.
Departing from the area, Minho headed to the third door.
As he had with the past two, Minho kicked the door down before probing the room's innards for any sign of Rue.
Nothing.
Like this, Minho continued this normalized repetition.
It was a simple procedure.
Walk to a door.
Check if the door was locked.
If so, kick it down, then look over the room.
For the majority of the time, Minho's mind droned out into his impulsive thoughts due to his boredom.
After thirty minutes of this, he had only reached the midpoint of the ninth floor.
Looking over his shoulder, he sighed, exasperated.
This was going to take forever…
Already foreseeing the daunting task, he had ahead of him, Minho clicked his tongue.
Looking left and right out of hope—a hope that he might just get lucky and stumble upon his opponent.
This, of course, didn't happen—
"FUCK!"
He yelled, punching the wall.
Putting up negligible resistance, the drywall yielded, caving in.
With his anger still at a zenith, Minho snapped his head back, glaring at the window behind him.
Reflected across the glass's surface was a stunning emerald-haired man with gemstone crimson eyes whose pupils trembled. The man's once-white skin flushed red with anger.
Minho's eyes twitched at the sight of himself.
His expression was so feral…
How unbecoming.
"...It's all that bastard's fault…" he whispered under his breath.
A trace of clarity flashed through his crimson eyes.
However, this clarity was quickly dispelled under the weight of his irrational anger.
It was Rue's fault.
And yet, Minho could do nothing about it.
His anger had no target to vent on.
He was rendered powerless in this situation.
His expression turned solemn.
His grip on the spear's shaft increased.
Brandishing his polearm to his front, he charged.
The spear's pointed tip aimed at his reflection's face.
Both spear tips met reflection and not.
And reality won.
CRASH~!
Minho's spear effortlessly passed through the glass.
The glass cracked—spiderwebbing into countless fissures until it fell.
Glass shattered.
The window fell.
Shards of shattered glass fell from the ninth floor, barreling toward the ground like dangerous rain.
As this happened, Minho stood still amongst the littered glass at his feet.
His reflection was no more.
After several seconds of absentmindedness, Minho brought his spear back to his side.
Pivoting his body right, he was met with the liminal view of the hallway once more.
With a sigh he returned his stride back to normal.
He had already spent the last thirteen hours in this building—what did it matter if he spent an additional half hour?
~~~
~~~
~~~
At last…
Minho had reached the end of the ninth floor.
The final door of this level rested before him.
Unlike the other doors, this one had a special embroidery plastered at its front.
Bezeled on its front was a golden name plaque.
Minho, with his hand firmly on the door handle, pressed down.
Click!
The door crept ajar.
Reeling in surprise, Minho took a deep breath and pushed the final door open.