Clack.
Clack.
The sound of two 500-won coins sliding one after the other into the coin slot.
At the same time, the alarm lights flicker on in the blue and red pistols hanging on the rack, each fitted with sensors.
Walkers.
The last remaining old-generation arcade shooter in this part of town.
Zombies pop up at random from the buildings on screen, and you have to shoot them with the sensor-equipped pistols. Miss, and you get attacked—lose a life. That kind of classic game.
Normally, it’s made for two players, two pistols mounted side by side on the rack, but…
I extend both hands and lift them one after another. I squeeze the grips, feeling that snug, hard plastic texture unique to reinforced polymer.
A little stiff, but just right for steady aim without shake.
The main screen flashes, shifts quickly. I hit two-player mode, then hammer the fastest, hardest difficulty in sequence. The game begins—zombies start popping out from between the buildings on screen.
I raise the pistols in both hands and open fire immediately.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Head shot!
Zombies barely stick their heads out the windows before bullets punch into their foreheads. They topple, collapse.
Hard mode. Zombies pouring in endlessly from the start. But every single one drops—bullets slamming into foreheads, no margin for error.
Graaahhh!
Head shot!
Reload!
I drop the pistol that’s run out of ammo, reload in one smooth motion. Meanwhile, the other pistol keeps pounding round after round into zombie skulls without pause. The reloaded gun comes back up instantly to cover the gap.
Like a machine—no matter how many dozens come at once, no matter how fast they rush, the instant a head pokes out, a bullet buries in the forehead. Out.
The scoreboard climbs without end.
How long has it been, reloading and firing nonstop?
At some point, spectators have gathered. One by one. Kids. Passersby. Everyone stops to watch.
“Wow… he’s doing two-player mode alone.”
“And on hard mode. That’s insane.”
“Look at his lives. Not even scratched. He’s already at the last stage…”
“Check it out. The instant they appear, he nails them in the head. You can’t even track it with your eyes, but he hits them all. Every single one. Unreal.”
“That’s not even human reflex anymore.”
Murmurs ripple through the crowd.
They’re amazed. But to me, these sprinting zombies look so slow it makes me want to yawn.
When I focus…
Everything moving…
Feels like it falls perfectly under my control. The sensation is almost intoxicating.
No matter how fast the zombies sprint, no matter if elite zombies leap across the screen by the dozens—every single one takes a bullet in the forehead.
Grrrraaaahhh~!
Tat-tat! Bang!
Head shot!
Reload!
The overlapping sounds—pistols hammering, zombies shrieking, the sharp head shot chime, the crisp reload call—all blend together, hitting my ears like heavy metal music.
Both hands cross and uncross endlessly—reload, fire, reload, fire. For a while, nothing else exists.
Then—focus deepens, deeper still, until it feels like I could swallow the entire world.
I slam the pistols back onto the rack.
No more… I can’t.
The nerves in my eyes ache like they’re on fire. My whole body surges, overheated, dizzy to the point of collapse.
“Huh? Why’d he stop? He was doing so well.”
The crowd’s voices buzz faintly.
I close my eyes, gripping the rack until the dizziness fades. Then, as if nothing happened, I yank the black ball cap low over my face and stride out of the arcade.
The moment I step outside, my breath comes free, like a weight lifted from my chest.
Sometimes…
It feels like my senses are trying to devour my body. That’s not something I can control.
Congenital Over-Immersion Syndrome
(excessive sensory amplification).
The world gave me overcharged senses, but if I focus them, my body burns out. A world of rampaging, uncontrollable perception.
A strange sensory condition found only in a tiny fraction of the world’s population.
And even among them, I’m exceptional.
Too exceptional. That’s the problem.
I force the overheated senses back down beneath consciousness. Glance up. The sky is filled with black clouds.
A moment later, heavy rain lashes down.
Even the falling raindrops seem slow to my overcharged senses. My body, wound tight and burning, cools as the rain soaks me through.
At the same time, the senses die back. The accelerated world eases into its original speed.
The world I really live in… returns.
And with that, I quietly close my eyes.