Got Dropped in a Ghost Story, Still gotta Work

The villagers gathered around me.

[He’s here, the fortune of Jisan!]

The man with the megaphone shouted louder and louder, and before I knew

it, the singing and the sound of gongs grew wild again.

A vortex of people.

"This way!"

I followed Agent Bronze, ducking through the crowd to hide from the

villagers, but it wasn’t enough.

"Whoa, daebak."

"Is that person really going to get the golden rooster?"

People who still didn’t understand the situation were murmuring, while the

villagers all rushed toward me, leaving everything else behind, some

bowing to the ground and praying toward the mountain, and Baek Saheon

had disappeared into the crowd.

And then...

"Please escape."

I pushed Agent Bronze and Assistant Manager Eun behind me, trying to

shield them from the villagers, but Agent Bronze stepped forward as if to

face them.

"Calm down. At this point, the chances are high that I won’t be able to

’safely’ leave anyway."

"...!"

"And it was clearly written in the manual."

I met his eyes.

"What to do in this kind of situation."

It sometimes happens during rescue operations that one of the agents gets

captured by the villagers.

But unless it’s the last day of the festival, don’t charge in recklessly or go up

against the whole village.

You can always re-enter the village during the festival. What that means is,

you can come back with proper preparation.

Don’t let emotions get the better of you and waste a precious chance by

causing a commotion. Act wisely and decisively.

That way, the person who gets captured, those left behind, and those to be

rescued can all escape the disaster alive.

"Go."

"..."

"Go, and quickly figure out a way to rescue me, then come back. That’s the

only way I’ll survive."

I could see the struggle in Agent Bronze’s eyes, a tug-of-war between

emotion and rational judgment.

But soon, rationality won.

"Tomorrow."

"..."

"I’ll come back for you. No matter what."

Agent Bronze quickly handed me a five-colored shoelace, which I stored in

my inventory tattoo.

In the worst-case scenario, if I risked disappearance or suicide, it would be

my last resort to escape.

Then Agent Bronze pushed his way through the crowd at frightening speed

and ran for the entrance.

"He’s here! The fortune of Jisan!"

At the same time, the villagers swarmed over me.

* * *

I blinked.

It seemed I’d lost consciousness for a moment.

And when I came to... I was lying on the wide, old-fashioned wooden floor

of a house.

Sliding doors on both sides of the square room.

"..."

I saw a similar layout recently.

’It’s that tile-roofed house.’

Assistant Manager Eun was nowhere to be seen. ...It seemed she hadn’t

been captured with me.

That was a relief.

’...’

I looked down at my legs.

Both my legs were tied with a gold rope.

The gold rope ran out through a hole in one of the sliding doors.

When I gave it a little tug, I felt some elasticity. It seemed fixed in place.

’So it begins.’

At that moment.

Drrrk.

The sliding door opened, and people came in.

No, only two.

One brought in a tray with festival food, the other carried a bottle of

alcohol. The two bowed deeply, set down the neat food and drink.

Then faint music began to play.

It seemed that outside the building, a wild and frenzied festival was still

going on, all night long.

"..."

The two brought out a small raffle box and drew lots. Eventually, the one

who pulled out a stick with a rooster’s feather stayed behind, while the

other lowered his head and left.

The one left was the person who had brought the alcohol.

"Saheon-ssi."

"..."

The villager who had brought the drink, Baek Saheon, looked at me.

I could guess who had set things up so I would draw the special prize.

"Last night, did you make me draw the ’special prize’ stick from your

pocket on purpose?"

He’d definitely prompted me like that.

That was the only unusual action that might explain why I, who’d drawn a

blank yesterday, got the special prize today.

"Was it to make me into someone who had already drawn the special prize,

to make me ’qualified’?"

"..."

"So that I would be guided to draw the special prize today?"

A deep satisfaction flickered in Baek Saheon’s eyes.

– ...Check my pocket.

And in a hoarse voice, he spoke.

"If that’s what you think, so what?"

"So you’ve been planning this for a long time."

"..."

"You must have thought hard about whether this would work, and what to

do if the agents failed to rescue you."

An ecstatic smile spread across Baek Saheon’s lips.

"That’s right."

Liberation.

Madness.

"I thought about it every day. What would I do if I ever got chosen. I never

wanted to end up like that. Every time I slept in this shitty house, every time

someone died, even when my older sister died!"

He spat out the words like he was vomiting.

"I always thought, I never want to end up like that. Fuck, if I die, god or

whatever..."

"God?"

Baek Saheon swallowed. There was a sense of unease and thrill in speaking

a taboo.

"This festival is for worshipping a god, then."

"Worship? No!!"

Baek Saheon practically screamed.

"This is a ritual to make a god!"

"...!"

"They pick an auspicious day, make it a festival, and whoever’s chosen is

enshrined in the village shrine to become the god, the fortune of Jisan, who

will free us from the ’truth of the world’. They actually believe that crazy

bullshit!"

"Is that really possible?"

"I don’t know! But..."

He panted.

"There’s really something here."

"..."

"On the festival days, if no outsider wins the special prize, the villagers

gather up the remaining sticks and draw them among ourselves. And if

someone gets picked..."

Baek Saheon’s face stiffened.

"When the last day of the festival ends, they put a bag over your head like

livestock and drag you to the village deity’s shrine."

"..."

"They take you there and do something."

"What do you mean?"

"I don’t know. I don’t know. But, but there’s something..."

His face turned pale.

"When the ones who were dragged out come back in the morning, their

faces are different. They can’t speak. They start preparing for next year’s

festival together..."

"..."

"And when the festival they’ve prepared for is over, they hang themselves

in the shrine."

...!

"But then, every festival, they appear again. Even though they died, they

come back. They walk out of the shrine."

He howled.

"They play in the traditional band!!" [1]

"...!"

"They’re doing it now. Outside!"

Heeyaaaaaah!

"I’m not going to end up like that. I’m not going to die. No way."

Baek Saheon’s eyes flashed with fear, anger, survival instinct, and a sense

of relief that he’d made it... then settled down into rational calculation.

"Now that you’ve been chosen, the festival and the raffle are over. I don’t

have to come back here anymore. Being trapped in this godforsaken Jisan

village, being held here, it’s all over now."

Note/s:

[1] Traditional band / Pungmul-nori – Korean folk music tradition that

includes drumming, dancing and singing, with dozens of players all in

constant motion.

Read more about it here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pungmul ↵

...

"I understand."

I nodded.

Baek Saheon muttered.

"So now you’re an insider and I can talk about it? Haha. ...I used to think

anyone who started talking about this stuff first was just an idiot, but this...

this is how it feels, huh?"

The feeling of being in a situation no one else knows, having to swallow

information you can’t share.

It’s almost funny, but I think I understand better than anyone how Baek

Saheon feels right now.

’...’

Honestly, I should be angry or anxious right now.

This crazy bastard Baek Saheon, just to save himself, pushed a civil servant

who had only come to rescue him and said there was no way to help, into

his place as the scapegoat.

I should be angry, disgusted, anxious, and desperate to find a way out.

That would be natural.

But strangely, I’m not.

Instead, there’s this odd... sense of peace.

The feeling that the complicated tomorrow and the near future have become

a little hazier.

’Now that I’m trapped here, I don’t have to think about anything else.’

No more wishing for a favor, no more worrying about Director Ho’s

binding, no more scrambling for information in a month, no more thinking

about what to do with an agent after my cover’s been blown.

’Is this just escapism?’

It’s almost laughable, even absurd, that the threat of death makes me feel at

ease.

But it’s true.

So I could speak calmly.

Without sympathy or anger.

"I see. I understand."

"Understand?"

Vigilance returned to Baek Saheon’s eyes.

"Are you going to say ’I feel sorry for you, I understand’ and then ask me to

let you go, saying this isn’t right?"

"Maybe. But... I know what it’s like to go through daily life in constant

fear, unable to relax, always feeling like I might die at any moment."

"..."

He looked at me with a subdued expression.

"Still, it’s fortunate how you chose between the two agents."

"Why, do you want to die?"

...

"A little?"

I’m not sure right now.

"Haven’t you ever wanted to die? Not even once?"

"..."

"So you have."

"That’s not true."

Baek Saheon suddenly replied.

"I don’t want to die. If you wanted to die, good for you. You can just stay

here, then."

"..."

Weird.

There was no sign that he was trying to mock me, nor any indication that he

was relishing in the fact that I’d been tricked by him. Even though he could

easily make fun of me, it didn’t seem to amuse him much.

All I could sense was a selfish desperation for survival.

He didn’t seem to feel any guilt either. Rather, it looked like he had no room

left in him for guilt.

’Come to think of it, it’s always been that way.’

He’s only ever desperately clung to whatever would benefit him, whatever

would keep him alive.

But at least, if he doesn’t take pleasure in watching others suffer because of

him, or find fun in tormenting people... there might be a different approach.

I could use that.

’...Still, there’s no way I’m going to just escape into reality until I die like

this.’

In the end, I spoke up.

"Saheon-ssi. If there was a way for both you and me to survive, would you

help?"

"...What?"

"You’d just have to go through more trouble than now, and take the risk of

being found out."

"You’re seriously asking if I’d do it? Crazy bastard."

At that moment.

– Heavens, enough! Even from a narrative perspective, there’s a limit. How

can anyone be so rude!

– Ah, Friend. Why are there so many people these days who repay your

kindness with betrayal? This Braun’s heart aches as well.

...The plushie started talking again.

– Allow me to help you. First, let’s get out of here.

– Then let’s show them what karma really means. Wouldn’t that be thrilling

and satisfying?

...

’Ah. It’s fine.’

The plushie fell silent.

’I’ll do it myself. Wouldn’t that be more entertaining for you?’

– Well... I suppose it would be best for things to flow with the right

support!

’It’s fine.’

I finished my conversation with the plushie and looked at Baek Saheon

again.

Since I didn’t expect anything from him in the first place, I spoke with

complete indifference.

"But Saheon-ssi. I’m going to die because of you."

"..."

"I’m only someone who came here to rescue you but couldn’t because there

was no way to do it. I’m dying because you pushed me into this spot."

"How is this my fault?"

Baek Saheon’s face twisted.

"Did I fucking tell anyone to kill someone if they got the special prize? Did

I shove someone into the shrine and kill them? Someone else does the

killing! So what, am I just supposed to die instead? That..."

Raging and swearing brings misfortune.

"...!!"

At the same time, both Baek Saheon and I turned toward the sliding door.

A muttering could be heard.

Raging and swearing brings misfortune. Raging and swearing brings

misfortune. Raging and swearing brings misfortune. Those who forget,

disappear. Those who forget, disappear. Those who forget, disappear.

OChosenOnedeliveruntoustheblessingofJisanofthecountlesspeaksOChosen

OnedeliveruntoustheblessingofJisanofthecountlesspeaksOChosenOnedelive

runtoustheblessingofJisanofthecountlesspeaks

A ringing sound.

Baek Saheon stared at the door with a face gone white.

There was clearly nothing there, but the sound of the traditional band

outside grew louder and louder...

"Baek Saheon-ssi."

"No."

He went over to the opposite side of the door, crouched, and covered his

head.

It was hard to believe this was the same person who normally caused all

kinds of trouble without hesitation. He was utterly powerless.

’Is this a trauma response?’

Maybe this would work.

After a brief hesitation, I opened my mouth and spoke toward the sliding

door.

"I’m sorry. I was so flustered that I swore."

The muttering stopped.

"That wasn’t appropriate for the festival. I’ll try to speak more politely from

now on."

The sliding door stayed perfectly still.

And then...

Heeyaaaaaah!

The sound of the traditional band resumed, gradually growing more distant.

Until it completely faded into the festival noise.

"..."

"..."

"Baek Saheon-ssi."

He got up from the corner by the sliding door, drenched in cold sweat, and

looked at me with a confused expression.

"I just helped you not die, again."

"..."

"Don’t you feel even a little grateful?"

"...So you’re telling me, if I’m grateful, I should die instead?"

"You make it sound like saying thank you would come at an unbearable

price."

Baek Saheon looked at me as if to say, ’What are you even talking about?’

Is that so.

"Do as you wish. Seems your life is very precious to you."

Then I looked down at my feet.

"But my life is precious to me, too. Even though I sometimes think about

wanting to die."

"..."

"..."

After a long silence, Baek Saheon finally spoke.

"So what exactly is this way for both of us to live?"

"..."

"Answer me."

I slipped my still-free hand into my pocket and rolled a silver badge around

in my fingers.

Silver Heart.

"It’s simple."

Because, just now, after hearing Baek Saheon’s words, I realized what kind

of ghost story this is.

I’m going to plant doubt in their faith.

God-making, liberation from the world’s truth, rituals shared only by a

select few, resurrecting the dead, scapegoats...

All of it pointed to one thing.

This is a ghost story under the Church of the Luminous Unknown.