* * *
…Now that I’ve been assigned to Team A and sent into this ghost story, let’s go over the things I need to keep in mind.
1 - Don’t let them find out I’m a coward.
2 - Don’t let them find out I already know the correct strategy.
3 - Survive workplace harassment from an uncooperative team leader.
‘Just kill me instead.’
Since joining this company, I feel like I’ve muttered that to myself more than anything else.
But I don’t have a choice.
It’s my first time entering a ghost story with a superior who actively wishes for my demise!
‘Every day feels like a brand-new hell…’
And then there’s my other superior, who would shove me into the cleanup team the moment she realizes I’m a coward. Her workaholic tendencies mean she’d waste no time.
In short, I’ve entered a ghost story with people who are actively trying to sabotage my survival.
‘I guess the only answer is to scrape together enough points to use the Wish Token and escape this place.’
To top it off, this particular ghost story is making my head spin.
“How does the area look to you?”
“…It looks like an abandoned factory, ma’am”
A dark, oily abandoned factory.
Do you have any idea how many ghost stories in <Chronicles of Darkness Exploration>involve abandoned factories? At least several dozen.
And if you include the stories with randomly changing spaces, there are even more!
I tried to quickly input the ID Code into <Chronicles of Darkness Exploration> and run a search the moment I got separated from the other two in Team A, but they didn’t leave me a single moment to myself.
‘Why are they staring at me like that?’
The two superiors from Team A were glancing at me out of the corner of their eyes, walking slowly as if waiting for me to make a mistake.
Cold sweat trickled down my back.
‘Not a single cooperative teammate…’
“– Friend?”
“…!”
“– Oh! A new location! Hmm, it doesn’t seem very suitable for filming. Such filth—it’s like a wretched, mangy donkey! Wouldn’t you agree?”
I jerked my head down.
It was coming from the keychain in my pocket—my “Good Friend” was talking.
Braun!
‘Finally, my cooperative ally!’
Wait. But if you keep talking so openly like this when the two supervisors are standing right next to me…
“– Ah, are you worried that our precious friendship might be exposed? No need to fret! Only you, my friend, have the privilege of hearing me speak!”
Phew.
So no one else can hear it.
‘Now that I think about it, the records did say the “Good Friend” only communicates with its owner.’
It also said it could pick up on someone’s feelings or surface thoughts with uncanny accuracy.
Relieved, I lightly tapped the pocket.
“– Haha, that tickles a bit!”
Tears welled up in my eyes.
The fact that a ghost story monster has become my emotional support in this moment…
“Team Leader, I see a door up ahead.”
“Hmm. Sol-eum, why don’t you open it?”
“…”
“Sol-eum?”
“Yes.”
Swallowing a scream, I began walking toward the rusted door.
No manual, yet they deliberately picked me? They’re not even pretending this isn’t harassment!
“– Oh no… you look troubled, Dear Roe Deer. Is it a matter of physical stamina?”
I shook my head ever so slightly, just enough not to be noticed.
“– Then is it the filthy environment?”
Shake, shake.
“– Ah, then perhaps your companions do not mesh well with you!”
That’s absolutely right.
This is tough—this filthy ghost-story world, and the workplace harassment…
“– These bad people are mistreating my friend?”
Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake.
“– I see. Sometimes, just like magnets with the same poles, some people simply cannot get along. Let us encourage ourselves and push onward, my friend!”
My stomach started to ache.
‘Why do I have to maintain a delicate balance to keep a plushie monster from going berserk?’
Is this normal?
Caught between fear and stomach pain, I managed to keep my trembling under control and grasped the rusty door handle.
Screeech.
As the door opened, it revealed the factory’s workspace.
Dusty canned goods and boxes filled the area, and decayed contents leaked from a broken can of beef stew.
But something stood out even more.
The smell of iron filled the air.
And… a body lying on the floor.
“…”
Wait.
“Do you see that? There’s a body over there.”
“…Yes.”
“Sol-eum, go check it out.”
“Yes.”
Aaaaaaaaahhhhh!!
The only reason I didn’t collapse on the floor sobbing was the comforting warmth of the keychain in my pocket.
‘Abandoned factory… corpse, factory, corpse….’
I rifled through the <Chronicles of Darkness Exploration> wiki in my head, approaching the body without screaming.
The corpse was sprawled on the rails, wearing a suit.
It was an adult male, bleeding from the back of the head.
He looked vaguely familiar, probably because he was around my age and wearing a suit.
‘This is driving me insane.’
There was no way I could touch him directly. Holding my breath, I immediately summoned the specialized equipment to hover my hands over the body, inspecting it from a distance.
Thank goodness it only transmitted pain and not the sense of touch.
“…A man around 170 to 180 centimeters tall, wearing a suit. The bleeding is limited to the back of the head, likely from being struck with an object over 10 centimeters in diameter.”
“Hmm. Not bad. Now flip it over.”
“Yes.”
Kim Sol-eum will remember this day…
Glaring at Team A’s leader with all the fury I could muster, I stifled my nausea and somehow managed to flip the body over.
The face that appeared, eyes closed and covered in blood, was…
My face.
“…”
FUCK— HOLY FUCK—!!
Goddamn ghost stories!!
“Oh, it looks just like you, Sol-eum. Could it be a trap?”
“Team Leader, don’t you think we should give him the manual now…?”
“Ah, right. I suppose I should.”
The Team Leader sized me up and finally decided to speak.
“Sol-eum, this is a story.”
“…”
“Think of it as entering a novel or a movie and proceed accordingly.”
I already know that.
I figured it out the moment I saw my corpse.
The moment I saw my own corpse I realized what kind of darkness this was.
-------------------------------
[The Day I Died]
A ghost story listed in <Chronicles of Darkness Exploration>.
Daydream Incorporation ID Code: Qterw-C-406
Victims are drawn into a failed thriller mystery and become part of the ghost story.
The first witness always encounters their own corpose.
Exploration Records include a total of 25 entries.
-------------------------------
This is exactly the kind of ghost story that’ll give you a mental breakdown.
‘This… is a potato. A potato.’
I desperately tried to brainwash myself, turning my gaze away from the corpse-shaped thing.
“Don’t use your custom equipment. Inspect it directly, thoroughly…”
Are you kidding me?
“I can’t.”
I replied without hesitation, not even pausing to breathe.
Behind his duck mask, the leader’s eyes narrowed.
“…Hmm?”
Ah, crap.
Talking back to a superior while already being harassed?
‘I have to recover from this!’
Once again, my survival instincts kicked in, and I blurted out something to fix the situation.
…The same strategy I’d already used once before.
“There’s a faster way to escape.”
Again.
I had to take this route again…!
-------------------------------
1 - Don’t let them find out I’m a coward.
2 - Don’t let them find out I already know the correct strategy.
3 - Survive workplace harassment from an uncooperative team leader.
4 - Pull off a quick escape. (NEW!)
-------------------------------
At least, thanks to seeing my own corpse, I know exactly which ghost story this is.
‘And the standard solution to this ghost story is… this.’
-------------------------------
Reconstruct the story in a way the victim doesn’t die.
-------------------------------
This ghost story reverses time as you explore the space.
Normally, you’re supposed to investigate the entire factory to piece together why “your corpse” ended up dead and analyze the process step by step.
-------------------------------
If the story isn’t rewritten within the time limit, the victim is confirmed dead.
-------------------------------
Typically, you’d have to spend an excruciating half-day racing against the clock, painstakingly uncovering every clue to avoid a predetermined death.
‘My stomach would dissolve before that.’
If there’s no shortcut, I’ll have to create one. Help me, Exploration Records!
If there are 25 records, surely some of the entries must be bizarre or unconventional to try and break the monotony. Something I can use as a hint!
I rapidly sifted through the records in my mind.
‘Let’s see, any unique experiences worth referencing…’
-------------------------------
Deputy Han So-eun and two others entered a dark area resembling an abandoned mountain lodge.
The team immediately identified the source material as a flop thriller that later became an internet meme.
Their responses included scornful laughter, mimicry of the meme, ridicule, and dismissive spoilers.
Result: The space suddenly collapsed, transitioning to a different story (documented in Exploration Record #22). Witnesses reported hearing sobbing sounds.
What is this, the vengeful spirits of failed directors?
Even their fragile mental states are spot-on.
–Researcher Gwak Jaegang
-------------------------------
Oh.
“…Manager, Deputy, could you give me just ten minutes?”
“Hmm, sure.”
First off, don’t give the superiors any chance to intervene.
You never know what kind of interference might come from workplace harassment, so even if it’s dirty and unfair, I have to handle this myself…
‘…Let’s do it quickly before I vomit or scream.’
Using my custom equipment, I swiftly rechecked the back of the sticky corpse’s head (ugh, gross) and examined the footprints and surrounding bloodstains…
“Why are you using custom equipment instead of your hands?”
“Because handling it directly with my hands could damage the evidence. I thought preserving the scene was the right thing to do.”
I didn’t know I had a talent for rapid-fire explanations.
“Evidence? You sound like you’re in a detective novel.”
“It’s not quite a mystery, just a simple deduction. And…”
I stood up.
“I found it.”
“What?”
“The answer.”
I immediately searched the area, of course using the custom equipment, remotely.
Let’s see.
In a place cleverly hidden in the shadows but not completely obscured, in a way the eyes might easily skip over it…
‘Found it.’
I pulled out a cylindrical object from under a shelf, in a damp and musty corner.
“That’s… a canned food tin?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm, this place is littered with cans, though.”
Right. This place looked like an abandoned canning factory.
But this one was different.
The can I picked up had traces of blood on a slightly dented corner.
It was just like the cliché, “hiding in plain sight.”
“– Oh, Roe Deer! If this were a mystery drama, that would be decisive evidence. The wound on the head and the shape match perfectly.”
Exactly.
“This matches the wound left by the blunt trauma on the back of the head.”
“– Ah, classic. An ordinary object in the background turned out to be the weapon! A well-structured narrative…”
Yeah, yeah.
Anyway, even Team A’s Deputy immediately nodded in agreement.
“So that’s the weapon…”
Thunk.
I dropped the “weapon” candidate can onto the floor.
Then I kicked it hard, smashing it.
“…??”
“…????”
“– ?!??!”
“Oh.”
I tilted my head.
“There’s no way this level of force could destroy the cranium of a human… Hmm. Something doesn’t add up.”
Clang.
For a moment, the space we were in subtly trembled.
“– But no matter how you look at it, it seems like a wound left by this can!”
Exactly.
Acting as if I’d just realized something, I nodded.
“Oh… it’s an alluminium can.”
“So?”
“Most canned food tins are made of steel.”
I frowned.
“Why use aluminum, something more common for beverage cans, for a food can… Hmm, could it be…?”
“– How intriguing…”
I deliberately paused for effect before speaking.
“Incomplete research? A plot hole?”
Creak.
At that moment, the cans around me began to tremble faintly.
But I ignored it and continued my monologue.
“That could make sense. People encounter beverage cans more often than food cans, so they might subconsciously imagine beverage cans and accidentally mistake everything for alluminium…”
“– Hoho…”
However.
I stopped mid-sentence and let out a dry laugh.
“But, there’s no wayyy.”
“…Sol-eum?”
“Anyone could figure that out with a quick search. They wouldn’t write a story so carelessly, especially not in the mystery genre, where tricks like this are the key element. They’d have to be an idiot.”
“– Hahaha!”
“Now that I think about it, a murder using a food can in a canning factory is just too predictable, isn’t it?”
This was my genuine opinion.
“There’s no freshness or twist to it… No way the author wrote this, thinking it was some clever trick. Not if they’re a creator with any sense.”
“– Agreed!”
The space started trembling violently.
“Honestly, it’s so poorly thought out…”
I finished in a nonchalant tone.
“Even amateurs wouldn’t write like this nowadays.”
Boom.
After a moment of silence.
Pop-pop-pop-pop!
Cans started bursting all around.
“Wh-What the hell?!”
The space struck by the canned goods began to melt away like tears and disappeared.
And just before everything vanished, a sorrowful wailing echoed, like someone crying and sobbing.
Then the next moment,
We were standing in the luxurious reception room on the 15th floor of the company.
Covered in canned beef stew.
“…”
“…”
“We… got out.”
The leader of Team A stammered, losing composure for the first time.
“The darkness let us out… why?”
As I wiped the exploded beef stew off my face, I answered flatly.
“I think it had a mental breakdown.”
[TL/N: Understandable, have a good day.]
* * *
After escaping the ghost story where my corpse had been found.
I cleaned myself thoroughly in the office shower, washing off all the beef stew that had covered me. Then we gathered again in the reception room.
“Wow, you really live up to the expectations. Clearing so fast without even a manual.”
“You flatter me.”
“This isn’t the time to be humble, Sol-eum.”
The leader of Team A, who confirmed that the yellow liquid had filled the dream essence collector properly, turned to me.
I could see admiration in her eyes.
“How did you arrive at that conclusion?”
I knew this question was coming.
I clasped my hands behind my back and assumed the stance of a formal presenter.
This was to defend myself against any recurrence of workplace harassment.
“I followed a standard process of deduction.”
“Hmm.”
“First of all… I guessed that the corpse might be key to the escape, based on how I was constantly made to examine it and the surroundings.”
Of course, they probably just wanted to pick on me, but it’s all about how you spin it.
“And since you mentioned this was a story, it had to be one about someone becoming a corpse… in other words, a murder mystery. That led me to think the correct way to clear it would be to solve the murder, but…”
I shrugged.
“That would’ve taken too long.”
“…?!”
“Since you went through the trouble to bring me here, I wanted to resolve it before noon.”
Team A’s Leader looked at me with a face that probably meant, “What are you saying, you crazy rookie?”
But hey, my manager always said a bold eccentric is better than a timid fool, right?
“So I looked for a shortcut.”
“How?”
“There were hints.”
I looked at the two of them.
“Your actions.”
“…!”
“You both read the manual. That’s why your behavior kept giving me clues.”
Like how they nudged me to examine the corpse.
‘If that was a deliberate hint, then there must’ve been subconscious ones too.’
I recalled the most decisive clue.
– Hmm. Sol-eum, why don’t you open it?
– Sol-eum?
“When we entered the darkness, you called me by my real name.”
“…!”
Normally, in ghost stories like this, it’s strongly advised to use nicknames derived from masks instead of real names.
That’s because using real names could invite trouble.
But Team A’s leader called me “Soleum” instead of “Roe Deer.”
For a seasoned and elite team member to do that, there could only be one reason.
She already knew it would be safe.
“That meant there was no intelligent entity in the darkness that could harm me by hearing my real name.”
It also implied there were no supernatural interventions beyond my recorded death.
After explaining this, I continued.
“So, that gave me more room to maneuver… And I thought, why not go aggressive and attack the story itself to dismantle it?”
“…??”
“You… thought that?”
“Yes. A story loses its meaning when its foundation collapses.”
I nodded.
“So I criticized its very own foundation to break it down and escape. That’s all.”
“…”
“…”
The higher-ups looked oddly dazed.
“…You deduced all that not only from the environment but also from our conversations and actions…?”
“Yes.”
Nope.
The truth is, I just benchmarked previous investigation logs.
– The space suddenly collapsed, transitioning to a different story (documented in Exploration Record #22). Witnesses reported hearing sobbing sounds.
Looks like just mocking the failed story was enough to give it a mental breakdown, so that it had to reassemble a completely different story.
So I thought, why not completely undermine its plausibility, crush the creator’s pride, and see if the whole thing disappears?
‘And it worked.’
Yay.
But then the leader of Team A, staring at me, slowly opened their mouth.
“You’re explaining… so casually, Sol-eum.”
Gulp.
“Well, of course, it wasn’t the standard method. You could call it a shortcut.”
Did I offend her?
I quickly added some damage control and bowed my head apologetically.
This should look sincere, right?
“Still, I’ll accept any reprimand.”
Yes. Please just scold me and let this end.
I obediently awaited Workplace Harassment Mark 2.
But then…
Clap, clap, clap…
Claps?
I raised my head to see the Leader of Team A, with her duck mask removed, gazing at me with amazement and satisfaction.
“Follow the rules and orders. But don’t hesitate to use any means necessary.”
Huh?
“Very impressive. This is exactly the kind of talent we’re looking for.”
Wait, me?
“Sol-eum, you’ve passed.”
“Excuse me?”
“There’s an open position on Team A, right?”
At that moment, I realized.
‘Ah.’
This wasn’t workplace harassment.
It was a test.
“We want you to officially fill that spot.”
“…!!”
Oh my God.
This was a recruitment test for Team A!
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