Chapter 25
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 25
Chapter Title: Commandment 1
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The sun had set. Ibi prepared for her final task before clocking out. She stepped into the kitchen and pulled out a jar brimming with white powder. Then she grabbed a handful and sprinkled it over herself.
She'd heard it was a mix of pagoda tree and styphnolobium bark powder. Supposedly, it masked a person's presence from ghosts.
Cough, cough.
Of course, it made her cough every time. It was a real ordeal. At least the smell wasn't bad.
Ibi rubbed her nose and bent down to open the cupboard. It led to the basement storage room. She had to check it before leaving every day.
Ever since that first time she'd gone down, Ibi had a strong aversion to the task. But they'd told her it wasn't that dangerous if you knew the precautions and protocols. She wasn't sure if she could take their word for it.
Once prepared, Ibi squeezed into the cupboard. A short ladder was attached to the wall at the entrance; she just had to climb down it.
After descending the ladder, Ibi started walking down the passage. Was it just the atmosphere making her uneasy? It felt like someone was walking beside her.
"Clack, clack."
"Mommy, you bitch!"
Mina stared blankly at Ibi, who had nearly screamed her lungs out.
"Are you brave or just a scaredy-cat?"
"Anyone would jump if you pop out like that! Where the hell did you even come from?"
"I just came to hang out, but no one was around. You should've locked the shop door if you were coming down here."
"......"
It wasn't wrong, so Ibi shut her mouth. The more she watched Mina, the more she seemed like a cat—not just in her mannerisms, but in how she'd show up at the shop whenever she felt like it, lounge around, and leave on a whim. Her footsteps were silent too.
Ibi wondered what she did in her downtime. Did she even have a home? Well, she wasn't human, so probably no need to worry.
"It's safer with me anyway."
"That sounds like it'd be dangerous without you."
"You won't die. Just follow the rules."
"......"
Ibi sighed inwardly. Why is every part-time gig I take like this?
Overall, it wasn't so bad. Aerin was kind and taught her everything step by step—aside from being hard to read. The hourly pay was decent too. It wasn't enough to plan a future around, but it covered living expenses for now. Finding something like this elsewhere wouldn't be easy, so it was worth putting up with the creepy stuff.
I wonder if they ever hire full-timers here. If she wasn't going to chase her dreams anyway, maybe she could specialize in this line of work.
Lost in a daze as she walked, she soon reached the storage room door. Unlike her first visit, it was closed. Before opening it, Ibi brushed her fingertip over the nameplate.
Ghost Archive_04
What did "Ghost Archive" mean?
The number attached to it nagged at her too. "04." Did that mean there were more like this?
Just then, Mina overtook her and pushed open the door, stepping inside.
Creeeak.
Her prickly demeanor was as off-putting as ever. Ibi pulled a list from a file folder on the wall and grabbed a pen. She wove between the shelves, checking if everything was in place.
Then she spotted one item that had been moved. It was an inkstone used for stamping, its surface intricately engraved with ornate patterns.
It belonged on shelf 1 but was stuffed in the wrong drawer. Ibi took it out. Like everything else here, it had an ominous look.
First rule: Don't let them think you're a pushover. If you gloss over their mischief, they'll start testing you right away.
"You little bastard!"
Remembering the rule, Ibi hurled the inkstone to the floor. She stomped on it and yelled again.
"Why aren't you staying put? Why move around on your own? This'll teach you!"
"...You don't have to go that far."
"...I'm a newbie, so cut me some slack."
Ibi's face flushed as she picked it up and returned it to its proper spot. The idea of objects playing hide-and-seek would have seemed ridiculous if not for all the bizarre incidents she'd dealt with lately.
She circled the storage room a few times, finishing her checks. Nothing else seemed out of place besides the inkstone.
The second rule was "Ignore any suspicious voices that try to talk to you"—and after getting burned badly on day one, she was determined to follow that one at least.
Thankfully, no voices had spoken today. Maybe because Mina was with her.
"All done?"
Mina seemed totally unfazed, completely at home here. Ibi gave the list one last glance and tucked it back into the folder.
"Yeah, but..."
Ibi scanned the room with just her eyes. Then she approached a display cabinet a bit taller than her knees.
"Not leaving?"
"Hang on."
Ibi opened the cabinet. She'd noticed it while checking the items.
It was packed full of books crammed onto shelves. They were more like notebooks than proper books.
They grew progressively more worn from right to left, ending in yellowed, thread-bound volumes straight out of a historical drama.
"Mina. What's with these books?"
"Records."
"Records of what?"
"Dunno. Incident logs?"
When Ibi shot her a look demanding more details, Mina irritably waved an arm around the room.
"Stuff we collected from wherever. That kind of thing."
She shrugged and looked Ibi straight in the eye.
"Your thing with that guest is probably in there too."
"......"
She meant the near-death grip from the guest. Ibi pulled out one volume and asked again.
"Who writes them?"
"Nati."
"All of them?"
Ibi looked down at the discolored tome in her hand. The sheer volume was one thing, but no way had Nati written something this ancient.
He looked barely into his thirties at most, and this book was easily twenty times that old. It was museum-worthy, perfectly preserved.
"That doesn't add up. Whoever wrote this would've been dust by now."
"That beanpole's older than he looks."
Not a satisfying answer. Ibi tsked, pouting as she turned back to the book.
"Can I read it?"
"If you don't mind losing two or three fingers."
"I'll take that as a yes."
A little tense, Ibi flipped open the pages. Thankfully, no fingers flew off.
But she couldn't read it. As she'd half-expected from the look, it was crammed with Hanja, written in a script that looked centuries old. Even the characters she recognized were illegible.
"Nati wrote this?"
It was seriously at feed-to-the-pigs level.
She set aside the ones full of dense Hanja and picked a notebook that looked more recent. It had Hanja annotations, but the main text was solid modern Korean. Easy to read.
"What time is it?"
"Ten."
Mina answered without checking a clock. Pretty useful.
"Can I take this out to read?"
"One of the rules: Don't remove storage items without proper procedure."
Right. A bit disappointed, Ibi wasn't ready to give up. It was only ten—not too late. She could stay a little longer.
"What're you doing? Not going?"
Mina tilted her head. Ibi was shoving miscellaneous junk aside on the large table to clear space.
"If I can only read it here, I'll read it here. Just give me an hour."
Mina stood there quietly, seemingly speechless.
"Ridiculous."
"What's wrong with it?"
Mina didn't argue much. Instead:
"And you didn't even study."
Ibi snapped.
"How would you know if I studied?"
"Did you?"
"...A little here and there!"
Lips pursed, Ibi flipped the pages and read steadily. She ignored the flickering, damp light of the old bulb.
"Heh."
"......"
"Pfft."
"......"
What bugged her more was Mina's stare, refusing to leave. Why isn't she going home? Just sightseeing on my face? Not sure if she even has a home.
Before she knew it, nearly an hour had passed with her nose in the book. But Ibi had no intention of stopping. With Mina there, none of the junk dared mess with her. As the disposal expert for useless trash, Mina scared them all.
How much time went by? Bored at last, Mina flopped dead across the table.
Aah, I came to drag her to karaoke after work...