Chapter 20
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 20
Chapter Title: Ghost Bridge Society 5
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Thud.
The next day. Ibi's gaze drifted first to the window as she woke from sleep. The sun was already high in the sky, blazing with all its might.
Her neck felt stiff, probably from sleeping poorly. As she shifted her eyes, she caught sight of her own limbs flung about haphazardly. She looked just like a rag doll tossed into the corner of the room by a child who'd played with it roughly.
Whirr, whirr, whirr. The old fan spun endlessly, grating out a noise as if pleading that its end was near.
"Hot."
Even in just her underwear with nothing covering her, the intense heat pressing in was impossible to fend off. She glared resentfully at the ancient fan, but it seemed long past retirement age—no point expecting much from it.
Flapping a thin tank top to circulate some air didn't provide much cooling either. Letting out a yawn, Ibi slid out of bed and staggered out of her room.
"Water."
She poured herself a glass of cold water and gulped it down. Only then did she start feeling a bit alive, her vision clearing. But the nagging discomfort pinching at the back of her head wouldn't fade. A hangover.
It wasn't a pounding headache, but Ibi groaned and clutched her head anyway. What had happened last night?
Drinking heavily with Nati and chatting about this and that had been fine. She'd asked a lot of questions, clearing up plenty of doubts.
The problem was all the things she hadn't gotten around to asking. Her curiosities weren't just one or two. In just a day or two, the world she'd known for twenty-two years had been turned upside down.
The Hollow Man.
The man she'd always thought existed only in her nightmares turned out to be real. And even the name she'd made up for him herself—she'd been shocked to hear it from someone else's lips.
At the same time, something heavy pressed down on her chest. He wasn't just some bogeyman from her dreams anymore. He existed.
So, was she happy about that? That she wasn't some delusional lunatic after all? Now her delusions had become a real ghost haunting her?
"......"
As if there was any reason to be happy.
She just let out a sigh.
And thinking it over, while many questions had been answered, plenty still remained. Like, for instance...
What the hell was this place? Who the hell were they?
Come to think of it, it was her very first question, yet she still hadn't gotten an answer. It wasn't like there hadn't been opportunities—she'd planned to bring it up after finishing with questions about the Guest.
But the weight of the answers she did get had crushed her, leaving no room for more. Who in the world was trying to kill her? And it was that silent James Sullivan who'd tormented her in nightmares her whole life.
Even after they went outside, a sudden downpour or Nati's sudden quietness had kept her from asking what she needed to.
After leaving the bar, the two of them had headed straight to Flower Mugwort Tea House. She'd meant to bring up the unanswered questions the moment they stepped inside again.
But even that failed. Not for any particular reason. The moment they entered the tea house, they were greeted by...
"C-Can I really eat this?"
Seafood hot pot... it was seafood hot pot.
"Of course. Can't even give you this much for a welcome party?"
Aerin said it in her usual cheeky tone.
Looking back, she probably should have asked what a "welcome party" even meant. But with two massive pots bubbling with all sorts of premium seafood, she forgot all about it.
She'd lived a tough enough life to know there was no such thing as unmotivated kindness. Still, it was just a meal. What was the harm in accepting it?
Everyone was there: Aerin, Mina, Haewon. And Nati, who'd come in with Ibi. Somehow, Ibi ended up joining the group at the table and digging in. The food lived up to expectations, and the atmosphere felt warm and lively.
Once they were all seated, Nati—who she'd thought had a somewhat light personality—grew unusually quiet. He didn't eat much either. Just nodding occasionally or flashing a small smile.
Haewon was the one really carrying the mood. He was quite the talker. She thought he seemed like a fun guy.
Before long, the drinks started flowing. Ibi was already a bit dizzy from daytime drinking, but swept up in the vibe, she accepted a few glasses. After that, it was like water diluted with more water, or booze with more booze. Soon enough, she even felt like she could get used to Mina's bizarre eating habits.
It might have been a ridiculous situation in hindsight. Ibi herself occasionally thought how strange it was to be sitting there laughing and chatting with these people.
Since when did I get this close to them? Laughing and joking around like this?
Still... it had felt pretty enjoyable, in its own way.
Since her mother passed, she could count on one hand the times she'd laughed heartily or truly felt happy. She saw her friends less and less.
The couple of pals she'd stuck to like they'd sworn a pact to become actors together and make it big—they'd gradually stopped contacting her. There'd been that rival she saw as an arch-nemesis, vowing never to lose to him. She'd heard recently he'd made his official stage debut. She remembered being so furious that day she couldn't even hold a spoon.
The part-time gig she'd finally landed? All-day shifts filled with abuse. And for what? Barely minimum wage...
"Oh dear, what's gotten into you? Hey, why the tears? Just think happy thoughts. There, there."
She'd chalked it up to the booze blurring her vision, but suddenly tears were streaming down her face. By the time she wondered if she was broken or something, Aerin had already pulled Ibi's head into her lap and was stroking her hair.
That was as far as her memories went. No wonder she hadn't asked her questions.
"Ugh, how embarrassing... I must've lost my mind..."
Back in the present, Ibi buried her flushed face in her hands and hung her head. Who was the most pathetic person at a drinking party? The one who cries. And that was her.
It was painful, but she rummaged through her memories a bit more. At least she remembered walking home on her own two feet afterward. Thank goodness. If someone had carried her, she would've ended it all right then.
She was home alone anyway, but Ibi peeked through her fingers like something embarrassing might be right in front of her. Then she got up.
"Gotta move. Come on, move."
Part-time job...? No need to go anymore. But she did have somewhere to be.
This time, she was getting real answers. For real.
She headed to the bathroom and checked her appearance in the mirror. Even drunk, she'd managed to remove her makeup before bed. Good job, Kang Ibi.
It wasn't full-on primping, but she washed up, tidied herself, and looked presentable. She threw on some casual activewear and stepped outside.
The crisp, pleasantly dry air felt unfamiliar. She still couldn't quite believe a month had passed since entering and exiting that "Wardrobe," but with autumn closing in so palpably on her skin, denial wasn't an option.
She tapped the toes of her shoes alternately on the asphalt, got her bearings, and started walking.
It hit her anew: Flower Mugwort Tea House was on the same cafe street where she'd worked. So naturally, she passed her old cafe on the way. The blinds were down, making the inside hard to see. Clearly not open for business.
"......"
Her lips felt parched for some reason. She kept her head down and hurried past.
She arrived at Flower Mugwort Tea House soon enough. It was her first time seeing it actually open. There were a moderate number of customers today.
As Ibi approached the full-glass door, someone came out from inside. Spotting her, he greeted her casually.
"Oh."
It was Nati.
"We meet again already. Hangover gone?"
"......"
Ibi's face reddened, but she didn't look away.
"...Head hurts a little, but I can handle it."
"Then why'd you rush over here instead of resting at home?"
"Things I need to ask."
"I feel like I told you plenty yesterday."
"I didn't get to the important ones."
"Like what?"
Ibi took a breath and spoke again.
"What is this place?"
A playful smile crept onto Nati's face.
"What do you think it is, miss?"
"Don't joke around. I need to know."
"It's not really a joke... You've seen and heard things here. Figured you might have your own guesses."
Ibi murmured with her head slightly lowered.
"Mister, you're human, right?"
"Probably. Halfway, at least."
Ibi snapped her head up, meeting the eyes of the towering man. He opened his mouth.
"It's called the Ghost Bridge Society. I founded it. Less a place, more a gathering."
"What kind of gathering?"
"Ghosts who hunt ghosts—get it?"
He shrugged.
"We collect antiques too. Mostly dangerous ones for regular folks."
"...So... like police for ghosts and yokai? Right?"
"Sounds pretty cool put that way. Sure, we're out for public good in a sense, but not exactly the same."
"How so?"
"Simple: we manage them."
Ibi blinked a few times.
"Manage?"
"Yeah. Folks these days dismiss all sorts of spirits as fairy tales. But plenty are plenty dangerous. You know that from experience. So someone has to keep the boundaries from crumbling, right?"
Ibi took a step back. She shook her head a few times.
"I get the gist... but not exactly."
"Fair enough. Doesn't matter. You'll learn the details as you go."
"Huh?"
Ibi tilted her head. But Nati shrugged like he'd said plenty, brushed past her, and kept walking.
"H-Hey, wait!"
With his long legs came long strides—Nati was quickly putting distance between them. Should she run after him? Just as the thought hit her,
the tea house door opened again. This time, Aerin burst out. Spotting Ibi, she didn't seem surprised at all.
"You're here! Why so late? Come on in."
"Huh? Uh?"
Aerin dragged Ibi inside by the wrist, straight behind the counter. Then she ducked into what looked like a storage room. When she emerged, she held a piece of clothing.
It resembled what Aerin was wearing—a modernized hanbok. But the color was different: white base with a subtle red tint, like a dress.
"This should be about your size, right? What do you think? Cute?"
"I-It is cute, but... what's this all of a sudden...?"
Before she could finish, Aerin shoved the outfit at her.
"Here, put it on quick and come out."
"Why would I wear this?"
"It's our uniform. Gotta wear it if you're working."
Aerin kept nudging Ibi toward the bathroom.
"H-Hey, stop deciding everything on your own!"
What the hell? Why does she keep trying to put me to work?
Was it the food? Yesterday's meal? Paying for that by making me work now? Should've known better than to accept random favors!
"......"
Either way, pushed along in a daze, Ibi soon found herself in front of the bathroom mirror, holding the unfamiliar outfit. Standing there made her feel a bit silly, but on instinct, she held it up to her body.
"Hm."
The sleek hanbok dress was impeccably made. Rubbing the fabric between her fingers, she could tell it was high quality. And it really was pretty.
Ibi struck a pose in front of the mirror almost instinctively and muttered softly.
"What the hell, might as well try it on."