After finally escaping from the insane theme park...
– Roe!
– Holy crap, Roe’s back!
I received an enthusiastic welcome from my team members when I encountered them in the elevator.
As it turned out, they had been panicking and were even trying to contact civilian survivors to figure out what was going on.
“We were just going to get some insight from their experiences. Anyway, it’s a relief you made it out safely.”
Deputy Manager of Team D said, her face visibly brighter.
“What on earth happened? Why were you late?”
Hmm.
Before answering, I deliberately raised my arm, turning my wrist outward, while rubbing the back of my neck.
I made sure the burn mark left by my membership pass was clearly visible.
: Socius :
“……”
“……”
“Roe?”
“Oh, sorry. I’m just… a little too exhausted right now.”
“Ah, yeah.”
Having gone through such a harrowing ordeal, it was understandable, and both the Deputy Manager and the supervisor nodded in agreement.
That’s when I realized.
‘They can’t see it.’
No reaction.
This tattoo wasn’t visible to them.
Not a good sign.
After a brief moment of thought, I opened my mouth.
“The reason I was late… Well, the exit gate lost power right in front of me. I waited for it to be fixed, but it didn’t happen, so I found another way out.”
“What?!”
I deliberately omitted the part about my wristband turning into a membership pass.
In this nonsensical ghost story company, admitting something unusual had latched onto me didn’t seem like a wise decision.
‘I’ll also leave out the fact that I now have a talking stuffed animal.’
Of course, I explained everything else thoroughly, so it shouldn’t affect the exploration record or the creation of manuals.
“…Wait. So, you went to the yellow zone, found that the gate there was also down, and got out by manually rewiring the power board?”
“Yes.”
“How the hell…?”
“Come on, I’m the same old roe deer.”
“Hmm… Fair enough.”
“…??”
Anyway, the atmosphere warmed up significantly.
“The points should be credited by tomorrow. Brace yourself—it might be close to 10,000 points this time.”
“That’s huge, right?!”
In reality, my survival meant the points would be divided, reducing everyone’s share.
The two superiors, still unwashed and looking frazzled from running around worrying about my safety, smiled warmly at me.
Honestly, I was touched.
It was a rare moment of camaraderie in this hellish company.
But one person was missing.
“Come to think of it, where’s the team leader?”
The Deputy Manager avoided my gaze.
“…He got called in by the boss.”
Oh no.
“It’s fine. He’ll probably just get a scolding. I mean, let’s be real—the Team A’s mantis mask guy deserved it, isn’t it?”
Well, it did seem like Team A’s leader had a serious grudge against him.
I recalled the mallard duck mask glaring daggers at the manager.
Even Supervisor Park joined in on the gossip.
“Deputy Manager, is it true?”
“What?”
“That our team leader has enough achievements to transfer to an elite team, but his personality keeps him stuck in Team D…”
“Oh, yeah. That’s probably true.”
The Deputy Manager crossed her arms.
“But he’s been like that his whole life, so everyone just lets him be.”
“…”
“Maybe God is fair, seeing as he’s got that personality to match that face…”
“Shh! He’s still a good boss.”
A lizard face with a lizard personality?
Well, after witnessing the absolute worst kind of boss up close, I could now somewhat agree he was a decent leader.
“Ah, the manager of Research Team 1.”
The head of Research Team 1, Gwak Jaegang, who impulsively threw his researcher into a ghost story, and got him killed.
“That guy really crossed the line.”
Reportedly, he was claiming during questioning that he “accidentally handed the chess piece to the researcher in a moment of panic.”
‘Yeah, right. It was obviously intentional.’
Everyone from the Field Exploration Team who entered the ghost story would think it was a mistake.
The problem was that no one seemed willing to strongly testify for the deceased researcher.
Take a look at the higher-ups with any clout.
“The Team A’s Leader is fixated on our team leader, and our team leader probably doesn’t even realize he needs to care about the Research Team 1’s manager.”
It seemed likely this incident would be quietly swept under the rug with nothing more than a slap on the wrist.
Since the company treated employees' lives as expendable based on their performance, there was little chance of a manager facing severe consequences over the death of a low-performing employee.
‘So that’s why Gwak Jaegang kept popping up in the Dark Exploration Record wiki…’
He seemed to have a knack for avoiding trouble with his sly nature, even though one misstep would have been enough to doom him.
Team D superiors clicked their tongues, saying some of the eerie rumors about Gwak Jaegang were probably true.
“I don’t want to keep working with that guy, but since he already blew up once, he’ll probably be quiet for the next quarter.”
“Right? If he wasn’t, he’d already be fired.”
What else could we expect from a company where employees risked their lives to extract some liquid?
‘I agree to some extent, but… honestly, it felt like Gwak Jaegang was trying to kill all of us, not just his researcher.’
The researcher was just a pawn to stir up chaos.
But since everyone made it out safely, that part of the incident had faded into ambiguity.
‘I’ll have to keep an eye on him moving forward.’
I decided to revisit the <Chronicles of Darkness Exploration> wiki page for Gwak Jaegang later for a comprehensive review.
“Phew, what a long day.”
“Seriously.”
The conversation quieted down.
Since it was unclear when Team Leader Lee Jaheon would return, we got permission to clock out.
The Deputy Manager grinned as she spoke.
“There’s nothing more to do anyway. You weren’t even officially marked as missing. We figured you’d make it out somehow… and good thing we were right.”
“Yeah! We all believed you’d come back!”
“Go home and rest up.”
“…Thank you.”
“Oh, no need for thanks.”
With parting words like, “Look forward to tomorrow’s points,” I said goodbye to my supervisors.
I returned to Research Team 1’s office to pack my things and began heading home.
On the way, I ran into a familiar face.
“Jang Heo-un.”
“…! Sol-eum!”
Team Y’s new hire.
Perhaps pushed aside since his entire team had died, he was sitting idly in Research Team 1’s office.
Though his shoulder had healed, he was still wearing bloodstained clothes.
“You’re safe! That’s a relief…”
“Yes, thank you.”
I sat across from him for a while, engaging in small talk.
Jang Heo-un looked pale, likely from blood loss, but oddly seemed less gloomy.
Considering he’d lost his entire team, it felt inappropriate to call him “lucky,” but…
I remembered what the superiors had mentioned earlier.
– Oh, that newbie from Team Y? He handled himself well this time, so there’s talk of him getting a promotion. B-Grade is pretty high, after all.
– If he works without issues for the next three months, he’s likely to be reassigned as a regular employee!
That’s great and all, but…
The question was whether he’d survive those three months.
“Have you ever considered quitting? The situation you’re in is just too dangerous…”
“Yes.”
A firm response.
Jang Heo-un, the rookie from Team Y, still wearing his cow mask, clenched both fists tightly.
“I need the wish token. I can’t quit.”
“…”
So, he had his reasons, too.
“In that case, I wish you the best of luck.”
After some hesitation, I added.
“Three months.”
“Pardon?”
“If you endure three more months, your chances of reassignment are high.”
Enduring with a set timeframe was entirely different from enduring indefinitely, both in terms of psychological burden and motivation.
“…!”
Hope lit up Jang Heo-un’s eyes.
“Yes, yes… I’ll try to hang in there!”
He took a deep breath while looking at the ceiling, then bowed his head.
“You’ve helped me a lot today. Three months from now, I’ll make sure to return the favor.”
“There’s no need. I survived thanks to you too. Thank you.”
We shook hands.
Moved by sympathy and understanding, I couldn’t help but say.
“You must’ve gone through so much. It must’ve been terrifying.”
“Pardon?”
Jang Heo-un’s expression showed confusion for a brief moment.
Wait, what…?
“Oh, it’s nothing. You almost died too—that must’ve been scary enough on its own…”
“…Well, that’s true, but you also witnessed a lot of unsettling scenes, didn’t you?”
“Ah, that’s true.”
Jang Heo-un chuckled awkwardly.
“I’m not good with blood or organs… I kept fainting or my legs would give out.”
“…I see.”
Hold on.
The scope of “unsettling scenes” just narrowed drastically.
‘No way.’
“…Heo-un, are you… okay with paranormal phenomena or ghosts?”
“Oh, yes! Those don’t bother me at all!”
“…”
“I just think, ‘Oh, that’s how it is,’ and move on. Unless someone gets seriously hurt, I don’t feel much about it.”
“…”
So, he wasn’t a coward?
“Thank you for your concern—oh, right! Sol-eum, did you speak with someone in the new hire group chat… Wait, you’re not in it, right?”
A new hire group chat… existed?
* * *
So he wasn’t a fellow coward, then.
…And I was the only one not in the new hire group chat?!
“Ugh.”
After returning to the company housing and taking a shower, two shocking truths continued to rattle me.
‘Today’s been a long day…’
Betrayer—no, Jang Heo-un did send me the link to the new hire group chat, so I’d check it out later. But for now, I had higher priorities.
“First, I need to figure out what’s up with this wrist tattoo.”
I had several potential leads, but there was one easy-going individual I could ask for now.
‘A good friend.’
I sat on the edge of my bed and took out the plushie keychain from the front pocket of my suit.
Then I called out.
“Braun?”
But there was no response.
‘As expected.’
When you return to reality from a ghost story, it’s said to look like an ordinary Toy.
-------------------------------
The good friend will shyly accompany you in your daily life, like a normal plushie.
Treat them appropriately.
They remember everything.
-------------------------------
In other words, it wasn’t keeping silent because it had the sense to remain quiet while I talked at work—it really couldn’t speak in this state.
But even outside ghost stories, there was a way to talk to the “good friend.”
‘…By making reality feel like a ghost story.’
I thought of a method I’d read in the <Chronicles of Darkness Exploration>.
-------------------------------
Talking with the “Good Friend”
#1 Use darkness, a lighter, and shadows.
-------------------------------
To be honest, it was a bit creepy, but might as well try it.
I lowered my head to look under the bed.
Then I propped the “good friend” up against the inner right leg of the bed.
‘Next, light.’
Since I’d quit smoking a while ago, I didn’t have a lighter. I substituted it with the flashlight on my phone.
I placed the narrow beam of light on the floor so that it illuminated the bed leg, then turned off the room light.
Click.
Now, sitting in the pitch dark on top of the bed, I waited.
‘…This is a bit scary.’
My back shivered, so I pulled the blanket over myself.
No need to be embarrassed—I was alone.
‘…Though I’m about to not be alone.’
When I looked up, the flashlight’s beam under the bed cast a massive shadow of the plushie on the wall.
“…”
Before long, the shadow of the plushie leaning against the bed leg began to sway with the light.
As if it were waking up.
I knew if I held my breath, and watched carefully, a voice would emerge.
A voice that sounded faint and unreal.
“– Friend.”
“…Braun.”
The host woke up.
“– Ah, you’ve made it out safely from that bizarre theme park! Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
Braun seemed to recall, as if replaying a tape, a rough summary of what had happened to me after leaving the ghost story.
‘So that’s what it meant by remembering everything.’
“– So, you’ve clocked out, my friend. Now you’re home to rest? Oh, quite a cozy place this is!”
“Thanks.”
Though it’s not my house, just company housing.
“– Hmm, come to think of it, Roe Deer, you’re speaking far too formally to me! Friends don’t converse like that.”
“…Braun, you’re speaking pretty formally yourself.”
“– Haha, I can’t help it. Occupational hazard, you see!”
I swallowed my own reply about how I probably wouldn’t overcome the “occupational hazard” of being a rookie at a crazy ghost story company.
The friendlier the plushie is, the safer and stronger it becomes.
“…Alright, I’ll talk casually from now on. Since we’re friends.”
“– Oh, splendid!”
The shadow of the Toy swayed, as if nodding happily.
Good… Now for the main topic.
“I have something I want to ask you.”
“– Oh! Then how about we take turns asking each other questions? But we must answer every question.”
“– Like a game. Sounds fun, doesn’t it?”
Stop making it seem like a ghost story already!
“Sure, sounds fun.”
But I forced myself to answer cheerfully.
This feels like overtime work… but I had to push through.
“The question I wanted to ask is this.”
I immediately lowered my left hand under the bed.
I made sure the black letters, like a tattoo on the inside of my wrist, were visible right in front of the plushie’s nose.
“The membership wristband burned up and left this mark. What do you think it means?”
A brief silence.
And then….
“– This is… Latin. Hmm.”
An odd sense of curiosity and immersion seeped into its tone.
Its voice lowered.
“– Socius.”
“– It means companion, member, or kin. Oh, the versatility of Latin!”
“I already know that.”
I’d looked it up in an online dictionary on my way back.
The fact that the “membership” wristband had burned up and left an inscription meaning “member” seemed quite connected. But the more important point was this.
“But it seems others can’t see it. Why do you think that is?”
“– Oh dear, they must have poor eyesight! I can see it perfectly.”
Meaning creatures from ghost stories can see this.
“Well, good thing you can see it.”
I changed the question.
“Then, what does this inscription do?”
“– It marks you as eligible.”
Without hesitation, the cheerful response followed.
“– Like when a VIP guest attends a talk show. They’re often marked with something special to distinguish them from the regular audience. For example, a name tag or badge!”
“– That ‘superior mark’ grants special seats, access to rehearsals, or backstage passes!”
I reflexively raised my arm to check the inscription.
“…So you’re saying this is like a ‘special privilege’?”
“– Well, that’s what it means to the theme park mascot.”
Braun’s tone turned disinterested.
“– That overly emotional mascot seems awfully chummy with you. Well, next time you visit, make sure to snag a welcome drink with it!”
I’d rather not visit it, ever again.
Still, I nodded to show cooperation.
“– Splendid, splendid!”
‘Work relationships are exhausting…’
Anyway, even though “eligibility” was a vague concept, it didn’t seem to carry a bad connotation.
‘I’ll have to see if it proves useful in future ghost stories.’
The plushie’s shadow wobbled enthusiastically a few times before it whispered softly.
“– Did you know?”
Know what?
“– Roe Deer, you just asked two questions in a row.”
“– That’s a rule violation.”
A chill ran down my spine.
“– Haha, it’s fine. Bending the rules is part of the charm in close relationships, isn’t it?”
Phew.
“…Thanks for letting it slide.”
“– Not at all!”
“– Anyway, now it’s my turn to ask a question.”
I swallowed nervously and looked at the giant shadow of the Toy on the wall.
“What do you want to know?”
Braun whispered.
“– Who lives in the room next to yours?”
[TL/N: Why does Braun seem like a tsundere owo]
It was an entirely unexpected question.
And, of course, the person currently in the room next to mine is…
“…A coworker.”
Baek Saheon.
“– Are you close?”
Not at all.
“Just a colleague.”
“– Ah, I see. Alright then.”
Braun’s voice grew cheerful again.
“– Friend, you’d better not concern yourself with the ‘coworker’ living next door anymore!”
“Why?”
“– Because he’ll be dead soon!”
