Home Got Dropped in a Ghost Story, Still gotta Work Chapter 77: Ch 77: Facing the Demons

Got Dropped in a Ghost Story, Still gotta Work

Chapter 77: Ch 77: Facing the Demons
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Chapter 77: Ch 77: Facing the Demons

I am walking up the stairs of a nightmare school with an agent from the

Disaster Management Bureau.

...While dragging him along like a prisoner after restraining him.

For context, I used an item he handed me to betray and restrain him.

"..."

This is a mess.

’This can’t go on.’

This definitely feels like I’ve crossed the line. By tomorrow, I might find

myself on the Disaster Management Bureau’s blacklist, conscripted for

whatever sinister purposes they have in mind.

Sure, the company might protect me, but I really don’t want to owe

Daydream Inc. anything—it would be utterly insane...!

’I-I need to fix my image somehow.’

The cold sweat on my back never seems to dry.

I spoke carefully.

"If you promise not to yell, I’ll remove the gag. Please just nod your head."

The agent’s murderous glare softened slightly. He gave the faintest of nods.

’...What a lie.’

If he’s going to deceive me, he could at least try to hide it better!

With a sigh, I continued.

"I have no intention of harming you, stealing Disaster Management Bureau

intel, or reporting anything back to the company."

"..."

"And... as I just said that, I felt no pain whatsoever."

"...!"

"I know the caramel you gave me is a truth-inducing interrogation aid."

The agent’s pupils trembled.

"Of course, I don’t think you gave it to me with malicious intent. It’s

just..."

I gazed at the air with a melancholic look.

"I wanted to convey that even though I work for Daydream Inc., I wasn’t

planning to lie to you."

Strictly speaking, I was lying.

If it came to it, I fully intended to use express-delivered alien painkillers to

bypass the effects and lie my way to survival.

Unsurprisingly, a sharp discomfort began to rise from within.

’Ugh.’

It felt like my insides were twisting, like the onset of an ulcer.

But now wasn’t the time to let it show.

’I can endure this without flinching.’

The more malicious or deliberate the lie, the greater the pain. What I’d just

said was evasive at most, barely a level one discomfort.

Endure it.

’Next step...’

Building trust.

I discreetly loosened a small silver badge in my pocket while keeping my

face composed. Then, I openly showed the item—the Silver Heart—to the

agent.

"I’m telling you this without relying on tools like these."

"..."

"I’ll repeat myself. ...If you promise not to yell, I’ll remove the gag. Just

nod your head."

Conflict flickered in the agent’s gaze.

When we stopped on the landing, he gave another faint nod.

"..."

Without a word, I removed the gag.

The agent kept his promise and didn’t cause a commotion.

’Hmm.’

Good. Next step.

I returned the flashlight and pistol I had confiscated from the agent. Then, I

loosened the restraints on his arms.

"This is..."

"You’ll need them to defend yourself in this kind of urgent situation."

’Not that the pistol works on anything but ghosts or supernatural entities.’

Though it could theoretically harm bad actors depending on the

ammunition, I didn’t think either Jang Heo-un or I fit the criteria for such

targets.

’Jang Heo-un hasn’t caused any significant trouble in the past three

months.’

Still, I didn’t completely remove the restraints. If the agent escaped before I

finished winning him over, it could spell disaster.

I offered a plausible excuse.

"It’s too dangerous to wander off alone here. I’ll keep the restraints on until

your judgment fully returns."

"..."

We cautiously ascended the stairs, keeping watch in all directions.

Suddenly, the agent asked,

"Is ’Roe Deer’ your alias?"

"..."

"Your group operates in units and uses aliases derived from your masks,

correct?"

"...That’s correct."

"Are you a squad leader?"

"No, just a new hire. This one here... is a fellow new hire."

With a faintly bitter smile, I pulled a half-mask from my pocket and placed

it over my face.

The familiar texture of bark with horns sprouted settled over my skin.

The agent looked at me, visibly shaken.

Then, I heard Jang Heo-un’s subdued voice.

"...I’m sorry, Mr. Roe Deer. I know you were trying to help me..."

"No, it’s fine. You must be very flustered."

Honestly, compared to Baek Saheon, who was determined to get me fucked

up, this was something I had already braced myself for when I decided to

act as a temporary agent...

Moreover, Jang Heo-un even went as far as to vouch for me to the agent.

"Mr. Roe Deer is truly a kind and dependable person. Even when we first

met, he risked his life to save me from the Darkness..."

"That’s, uh, an exaggeration."

Nice shot!

"We just... helped each other. To survive the Darkness together."

"Mr. Roe Deer..."

"..."

The agent fell silent, a complicated expression on his face.

At least he didn’t try to smack me with the grip of that small pistol, and I’ll

take that as progress.

"...Entering the fourth floor."

We ascended the final stretch of stairs.

[4F]

"..."

We made it, but...

’I feel uneasy.’

From the fourth floor onward, this ghost story starts getting even more

warped.

For one, when students die, there’s no announcement over the speakers

anymore.

The floor is eerily dark.

Bzzt, bzzt...

Most of the lights were already shattered or burnt out, and the few

remaining ones flickered sporadically, except for a handful that stayed on.

And the bigger issue...

"...!!"

"Huhp—"

Dozens of students were standing in the hallway.

And they were already staring directly at us.

’Hah.’

In the dimly lit school hallway, they lined up like mannequins along either

side.

The fourth-floor student entities were all third-years, with more than a

hundred confirmed in every exploration log of this floor.

Hearing that alone would make you think, ’Well, guess we’re all doomed.’

But.

"...It’s fine."

The agent spoke in a firm voice, offering critical information.

"They cannot leave their positions."

That’s right.

The fourth floor is truly strange. While we’ve never witnessed those

’students’ move, we’ve seen their locations change.

But the students on the fourth floor? They don’t move at all.

It’s like their feet are glued to the classroom floor.

—Excerpt from Exploration Record #09

As long as they’re not lunging at us and stay rooted in place, we can avoid

danger by staying out of their territory.

If we have to approach, we can stop them by maintaining eye contact to

freeze their movements.

’The problem is how easy it is to lose track of them in the dark.’

And they’re very... very cunning.

They often exploit psychological tactics to catch you off guard.

’...Hmm.’

So that’s how it is.

I confirmed that Jang Heo-un had pinned the nametag he had retrieved from

one of the school’s students onto his blazer, then spoke firmly.

"Let’s proceed cautiously and thoroughly investigate the fourth floor."

There were no objections.

We entered the gaps between the students.

* * *

’Huu.’

Jang Heo-un swallowed nervously.

It felt incredibly unsettling.

To brush past the sleeves of those ’students’ while trembling with fear.

But he gritted his teeth.

’I have to be useful.’

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had somehow ruined his kind

colleague Kim Soleum’s exploration.

What was he planning to accomplish by accompanying the agent?

’He was probably aiming for a high score... a clean clear.’

According to the manual, the longer you survive here and the more

nametags you collect, the higher the concentration of Dream Essence in the

collector.

But it was too dangerous. Kim Soleum hadn’t even glanced at the nametags

on the fourth-floor students.

’...I don’t get it.’

Jang Heo-un decided not to overthink it.

Relying on his own judgment wasn’t exactly a strong suit.

Instead, he focused on diligently watching the approaching students.

Especially when entering areas where the lights were shattered or flickering

—he aimed the flashlight obsessively.

Step, step.

"Mr. Bison, watch the rear."

"Yes."

His voice trembled slightly.

Jang Heo-un turned to look behind them, walking backward.

From where they had passed, dozens of students were now turning their

heads and stretching out their hands toward them...

"There’s the music room up ahead. Let’s hang in there just until we reach

it."

They moved forward.

Soon, they reached a section entirely devoid of lights.

’Huu.’

In the suffocating darkness, the students stood eerily still, staring silently at

them.

They advanced cautiously, illuminating the gaps between them with their

flashlights.

Then—

Flicker.

A light blinked somewhere. It felt like a power outage had occurred...

’Huh?’

Wait.

Something felt wrong.

’There aren’t any lights here, so how could one flicker?’

Jang Heo-un realized it a step too late.

It wasn’t a power outage.

The flickering light...

...was someone’s flashlight up ahead.

Just now, someone had lost sight of their surroundings.

"...!"

Jang Heo-un almost turned around in panic. But a calm voice from behind

him stopped him.

"Don’t look back."

"You...!"

"We... have to keep moving."

Kim Soleum’s voice was strained, mixed with heavy breaths.

And then—

The metallic scent of blood.

Drip, drip...

As Jang Heo-un backed away, he noticed red liquid dripping onto the floor.

Focused on the students, he hadn’t been able to see clearly, but the ground

beneath his shoes was slippery.

And then...

He spotted the hand of a student reaching out from the middle of the

hallway, close enough to brush against his waist.

It was drenched in crimson, blood dripping from its fingertips.

Jang Heo-un fought the urge to retch.

"M-Mr. Roe Deer...!"

When they finally made it out of the crowd of students and turned around,

Kim Soleum stood clutching his abdomen, his face pale as a sheet.

The flashlight in his hand flickered once more.

With a faint smile on his ashen face, he said,

"...The battery—"

– Effective illumination time: 60 minutes

Of course.

Emergency flashlights weren’t meant to last long.

’Ah...!’

Though they had prepared supplies, the two of them had failed to account

for the time left on the flashlight the other was carrying...

"W-Wait... Ugh."

"P-Please don’t speak!"

Jang Heo-un struggled to suppress his nausea and tried to support Kim

Soleum. The agent instinctively joined in.

Together, the Daydream Inc. employee and the Disaster Management

Bureau agent hurriedly helped him into a nearby classroom.

Even there, a few students peeked inside. They managed to set Kim Soleum

down just outside the students’ range.

Seated on the floor, clutching his wound, Kim Soleum spoke.

"You two."

"..."

"Leave me here."

The one wearing the horned mask, his face strained from the pain, forced a

smile.

"Ah, one moment."

Kim Soleum reached out with his free hand and completely undid the

agent’s restraints.

"I almost forgot. Now you can leave..."

The agent ignored him and instead pulled a spare nametag from his pocket

and shoved it into Kim Soleum’s jacket.

But...

"You don’t have to give it to me. Don’t you need it for something else?"

"..."

"Go ahead. I’m sure there are others on this floor. If you join them you’ll—

ugh—you’ll be fine."

Kim Soleum frowned slightly but quickly smoothed his expression.

"To be honest, even if I die here, it wouldn’t cause any major issues with

my job at the company. They’d still be satisfied with this much..."

"That damn company!"

The agent clenched his fists tightly.

"Why on earth do you people trust such an absurd, disgusting

organization!"

It seemed to strike a nerve.

"You really think that a company that treats human lives so lightly will

actually grant your wishes?"

"...!"

Jang Heo-un turned to the agent in surprise.

The agent gritted his teeth and continued.

"I know you’re all working there for those wish-granting rights. Do you

honestly believe in that nonsense? That some magical potion will grant any

wish?"

Kim Soleum looked up at the agent, his expression calm.

"They do grant them."

"..."

"If the wish ticket was a lie, this structure wouldn’t hold. Once you’ve

onboarded, any wish can be granted."

"...Hah."

The agent let out an exasperated sigh, as though his frustration had reached

its peak, and repeated an argument that sounded well-worn.

"Think about it. Let’s say someone wishes for world peace, while another

wishes for the extinction of humanity. How do they grant both contradictory

wishes?"

Jang Heo-un, wearing the bison mask, flinched.

But Kim Soleum remained unperturbed.

"For the person making the wish, yes. It comes true."

"What does that even mean—"

"A wish ticket isn’t meant to change the world. It’s an omnipotent tool to

fulfill personal desires."

What does that even mean?

It sounded like some cultish doctrine of salvation.

But Kim Soleum’s demeanor wasn’t that of a religious fanatic—it was more

like someone who had repeatedly and empirically tested the circumstances

and resigned themselves to reality.

The agent stared at him in bewilderment, but Kim Soleum simply shrugged.

"Well, I guess this is the end for me."

"...!"

Blood surged out from beneath the hand clutching his stomach.

The bleeding wasn’t stopping at all.

Kim Soleum handed the blood-stained nametag back to Agent Bronze.

The agent gritted his teeth.

"Even if you keep sacrificing your nametag every time you’re dragged here

on a new moon, that company will never save you."

"Maybe not."

Kim Soleum shrugged again, though his expression tightened slightly from

the pain. Even so, he managed a faint smile.

"But the Disaster Management Bureau will eventually put an end to this

Darkness... or rather, this Disaster. When that happens, I’ll finally be free

too."

"...!!"

The agent looked at Kim Soleum as if he’d been struck.

"Go now, both of you. Staying here while looking back is dangerous."

Kim Soleum lifted his still-functioning emergency flashlight and shone it

outside the classroom.

"I’ll keep an eye ahead while you go."

"..."

"And... Mr. Bison, you didn’t do anything wrong. You’re just a rookie.

Please, if possible, stick together for a while and stay safe."

"Mr. Roe Deer..."

The agent hesitated, but he ultimately gritted his teeth, turned around, and

started walking with his flashlight.

"Follow me."

"Ah..."

Jang Heo-un wavered but eventually made his decision.

’I can’t do anything for him by staying here...’

Leaving quickly might actually be easier for Kim Soleum.

But he couldn’t leave without doing something. So, as he followed the

agent, he secretly slipped something into Kim Soleum’s pocket.

"Mr. Roe Deer, here... this is my spare nametag."

"...!"

"I survived longer thanks to you... and I don’t have anyone else to save. It’s

not much, but at least take one... thank you."

Without waiting for a response, Jang Heo-un left with the agent, unable to

look back.

"..."

Kim Soleum watched them leave as promised, keeping an eye on them until

they disappeared around the corner.

And then...

’Finally!’

As soon as they were out of sight, Kim Soleum swiftly retrieved something

he had prepared from his pocket.

A piece of candy, individually wrapped in plastic.

A nostalgic relic from a warmer time,

Magic candy!

A large, old-fashioned round hard ball candy in cheerful red, yellow, and

white, nestled in its quaint wrapper.

Nostalgia Candy

The emergency recovery item Kim Soleum had purchased.

With blood-streaked hands, he unwrapped it and popped the candy into his

mouth.

And then, a transformation began.

"...!"

The wounds on his body began to close.

Spilled blood was reabsorbed, and fractured bones seamlessly reconnected,

as though time itself was rewinding.

When rolling the candy in his mouth,

Rediscover cherished memories!

While the candy melted, it fixed the consumer’s body and mind to their

healthiest state from the past ten years.

’Since this is a dream anyway, temporary measures like this are more than

enough.’

His condition surged to peak form, and his mind grew razor-sharp.

His thoughts spun at lightning speed.

’It worked...!’

Kim Soleum exhaled a sigh of relief.

His gamble had paid off—this was the most effective strategy in such a

scenario.

’Faking my own death is still the best play.’

He had seized the opportunity to both secure freedom for exploration and

repair his image.

’I was so nervous the flashlight would die before I could time it right.’

He dusted himself off, took another deep breath, and let out a long sigh of

relief.

His heart pounded.

Relief mingled with lingering fear.

’...Alright.’

Now he knew exactly what to do next.

After standing, he double-checked the re-emerged tattoos on his body and

retrieved a spare heavy-duty flashlight from the depths of one wrist tattoo.

With a steadying breath, Kim Soleum stepped out of the classroom and into

the dark, eerie hallway of the fourth floor.

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