Kang Yeonhoo cleared his throat awkwardly and turned his head away.
“...Ahem, anyway, once we go in, let’s keep conversation to a minimum, alright?”
The stiff neck and darting eyes made him look like he was genuinely scared. For the first time, it struck me that he was my age—he finally looked like a peer.
“Yeonhoo-hyung, even if you’re scared, don’t cling to me too much.”
“...That will never happen, even if I die.”
Snapping back instantly, he spun around and went to the staff to reattach his mic.
‘He knows it’s fake, so what’s he even afraid of?’
I didn’t get it, but he was the type who always covered his own ass, so I figured he’d manage. He was an adult man, after all; at worst, he’d react like Sunghyun or Dajun—whimpering, sure, but nothing broadcast-breaking.
Dajun, who had milked snacks out of Black Call with shameless aegyo, tiptoed up to me.
“But hyung, will you be okay with the penalty?!”
“Why even ask him? Remember when he said he saw a ghost in the dorm? Seo Hoyun just told him to shut up, sprinkle some salt, and go to bed.”
Sunghyun butted in, his pale face regaining some color after escaping last place. With those two clinging to me and Jiwon tagging along whenever he got a chance, I shoved the trio away.
I glanced toward the cluster of people in the monitoring area, then walked with Woosung, Jiheon, and the still-pale Yeonhoo toward the haunted house.
<The Ultimate Terror! Horror Hospital>
Ah, this place. I remembered.
Broadcast stations had a long, proud tradition of hazing rookies. Naturally, I couldn’t escape it either.
One of my useless tasks back then had been scouting “scary locations” for variety shoots.
‘I checked this one carefully to see if it could be used.’
I’d measured how long it took to clear, how many “ghosts” appeared, and where the props were set. I’d even suggested a few tweaks for originality, only to get shot down.
Still, it had served its purpose and earned ratings.
As I reminisced, a staffer fixed a camera helmet onto me and casually commented:
“Oh, this place is really famous. They say actual ghosts blend in, too. Lots of sightings. Rumor is they hold a ritual every time before opening....”
Marketing ploy? Probably. Not a bad way to stir attention.
Woosung’s face paled.
“Seriously, do you have to say that right before we go in...”
“—Is that real?!”
Yeonhoo’s voice cut him off.
He sounded properly terrified.
Woosung looked at him, sighed, and scratched his neck.
“...Yeonhoo, you want to stand in the middle?”
“Huh? N-no, no, sunbae-nim. It’s fine. I’ll go first.”
He lifted his chin stiffly, pretending to be resolute, and stepped forward. But his clenched fists were already trembling.
“...Alright, Seo-Min-Kang-Joo team, go in the order you’re standing. Kang Yeonhoo, Joo Woosung, Min Jiheon, and finally Seo Hoyun. Follow the line on the floor.”
From the back, I studied the others. Jiheon, in particular, was staring at the haunted house with an odd look.
“...Sunbae-nim, we need to line up?”
Something about him set off my radar. He didn’t even glance at me, just stared into space.
“Sunbae-nim?”
“...Huh?”
“Line up.”
“Ah, sorry.”
Blinking several times, he forced a smile and murmured, “Doesn’t feel right...”
“...You laying groundwork?”
“Haha, no. All set.”
Straightening up, he got the OK sign from PD Kim.
“Alright, off you go!”
The shoot began. With one cameraman, the four of us stepped inside.
The smell of disinfectant stung my nose. Further in, a small waiting room with a monitor appeared.
Crackle, buzz...
As if waiting for us, static filled the screen, then a man in a white coat appeared.
【...Reporter-nim, didn’t I tell you... not to come? This place is just... a closed ward...】
“...What, I’m a reporter now?”
Woosung muttered, eyes fixed on the screen.
【I once worked there but fled. Ever since, I’ve been haunted... for three years. Unlike you, I want nothing more to do with that place...】
【...But your eyes say you won’t give up. Strange person. Anyway, I warned you. At least heed this:】
【Never, ever go deep inside.】
“What about my eyes? Do I look that noble?”
I waved him to shut up and watch where he was going. He was definitely the type to talk to himself at home in front of the TV.
【Then... I hope you return safely...】
The side door creaked open.
Creak—!
Yeonhoo, stiff as a board, hesitated forever before finally stepping forward.
‘Hoh.’
At that moment, the flickering light sparked and died. Updated effects, I noted curiously.
Bang!!!
“Uwahh!!”
The door behind us slammed shut.
“...Even I jumped. Yeonhoo, why are ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) you so jumpy?”
“S-sorry, sunbae-nim.”
‘And he still pulled off that “calm” image till now?’
His scream startled even Woosung, who clutched his chest. Yeonhoo quickly apologized, but his show was just beginning.
“Wahh!”
“Ahhh!”
“Eek!”
Every step, a scream. Every prop, a flinch.
Good coverage for Hi-Five, at least.
I craned my neck forward.
‘So this is Yeonhoo’s big reveal.’
Honk honk.
Five minutes stuck in one spot. Without cameras, I’d have mocked him endlessly. Shame to waste the fun.
“Grooohhh...”
A zombie in bandages slapped the bars weakly, already out of energy.
“Excuse me, do you usually work nights? Or is this overtime for us?”
“Grohh... cough y-yeah, cough overtime...”
“Ah, sorry then.”
“Seo Hoyun, stop chatting back there.”
Woosung snapped, then turned forward again.
“Take it slow—”
“Yahh! ...Ah, yes, yes!”
At a light pat on the shoulder, Yeonhoo collapsed to the floor clutching his head. Woosung stared, then lifted his helmet slightly to address the cameraman.
“...This isn’t working. Can we quit halfway?”
“Sorry, penalty must be carried through.”
“Phew...”
“I-I’m fine.”
He staggered up, fists clenched, pretending composure. Woosung sighed and muttered,
“If you’re scared, sing something.”
“...S-sing?”
After swallowing hard, Yeonhoo began.
“If dreams really come true—AH! Happily, the two of us toge—Uwahh!”
He belted “Uri,” the classic WH idol concert ending song. True company loyalty.
The cameraman focused on his performance: 70% screams, 30% song.
“Seo Hoyun-ssi.”
Jiheon, silent until now, sidled closer.
“We should move faster.”
“Ah, I’d like that too.”
“No, seriously... I’m getting a bad feeling.”
What did he expect me to do?
I shifted my gaze from Jiheon to Yeonhoo, who now resembled a half-dead corpse.
“Please refrain from ominous comments, sunbae-nim. We’re already on edge.”
But Jiheon didn’t back down. His face hardened, voice low.
“I’m not joking. Look straight ahead.”
Suspicious. His head kept swiveling, his empty wrist twitching like he was fiddling with a watch that wasn’t there.
I sighed deeply.
‘Fine. We’ve got enough footage anyway.’
Decision made, I acted without hesitation.
“Huh? Jiheon sunbae-nim is hungry?”
“...Me?”
Before he could speak again, I stepped past Woosung.
“Oh no, that won’t do!”
Pushing straight to the front, I startled Yeonhoo, who yelped.
“Wahh!”
“Switching spots. We’ll speed up.”
“...Huh?”
“Because Jiheon sunbae-nim is starving.”
Confused, Yeonhoo stumbled to the back.
From then, it was smooth sailing.
I sang where Yeonhoo had left off.
“I’ll always stay by your side—bathed in love’s warm light, we’ll move forward together.”
After about five minutes, the EXIT sign came into view. I shoved the door open.
“......!”
Blinding white light filled my eyes, then cleared to reveal cameras, lights, and applauding staff.
“Wow—!! Great work!”
Applause and cheers greeted us.
Yeonhoo collapsed against the wall, legs giving out.
“—Min Jiheon, that atmosphere you created was amazing!!”
The cameraman lowered his gear, beaming.
“Ahaha, well, I am an actor.”
“You scared me for real! Like the intro to a horror movie! I almost cried.”
“Maybe I should try a horror film next?”
What the hell.
It felt off, but I didn’t care enough to dig deeper. I pulled off my mic. Yeonhoo just gulped down water, still pale.
Then Woosung nudged me with his elbow.
“Hey, you looked kinda cool.”
“...Excuse me?”
“You sped it up because Yeonhoo was terrified, right? Didn’t even talk to him before, but you helped him out... you’ve got loyalty, huh?”
What nonsense.
“Still a jerk, but dependable Seo Hoyun, right?” Woosung rambled with a smug grin before wandering off.
Just as I thought I’d get to rest, Yeonhoo shuffled up.
“...Seo Hoyun-ssi, good job.”
“You too, sunbae-nim.”
“...Do you think they’ll edit this out?”
“After screaming your throat raw? What do you think.”
“......”
He rubbed his haggard face. Only now did he start worrying about how he’d look on camera.
“...Weren’t you scared at all, Seo Hoyun-ssi?”
“Nothing’s scarier than people.”
At my firm reply, he lowered his head and mumbled.
“...oy.”
“...What?”
“...Thanks for going first.”
Even a simple thanks turned his ears bright red.
