Chapter 7
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: Moonlit Guest 3
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Ibi chewed on her lower lip. The situation almost made sense one moment, then her common sense blocked any acceptance the next. She still had no idea what kind of place this even was.
For a fleeting second, she wondered if some new variable might appear this time. But then came the precise, unwavering whir of winding gears, without a hint of deviation. The cogwheels turned. A solo piano melody echoed through the air.
"......"
This was already the third room. Everything repeated exactly the same, without a single anomaly.
Maybe adaptation could dilute her fear. But at the end of this endlessly looping time, death might be waiting.
Or what if it wasn't death? What if this structure held infinite rooms, trapping her in an eternal chase where she couldn't even die?
A chill ran down her spine unbidden. In that case, wouldn't death seem merciful?
Or maybe this was hell.
"No, no......"
Ibi shook her head repeatedly as she reached into her pocket. She pulled out her smartphone. She needed to call for help fast—before the music ended. She quickly dialed the police and pressed the phone to her ear.
'The number you have dialed is not in service...'
She nearly dropped the phone. 112 not in service? That didn't make any sense. She double-checked if she'd misdialed, but there was no way she'd mess up just three digits.
She tried the police again, but got the same message. Growing desperate, Ibi frantically called 119, then 113, even 111.
All failures. She started dialing friends and relatives at random, but the results were identical.
And by then, the music that had been playing had come to an end. The cogwheels stopped turning, and the knocking echoed from all four doors. Tap, tap, tap. Sir? Ma'am?
Soon, a door creaked open. The girl staggered out. Ibi bolted through another random door. This time too, she crossed the hallway and ended up back in the same room.
The moment she opened the door, her legs gave out, and she collapsed inside. That's when something tumbled from her front jacket pocket.
A business card...?
Ibi snatched it up immediately.
Now she remembered. It was the pitch-black card that woman from the cafe had given her yesterday.
Suddenly, the woman's words echoed in her mind.
'Call me if anything weird or dangerous comes up.'
Ibi gripped the card so tightly the edges crumpled. Weird or dangerous? Had she somehow foreseen something like this?
Either way, Ibi pulled out her phone again. Was there any situation more bizarre and utterly fucked than this? She'd tried once already... but now wasn't the time to be picky.
Ghost Bridge Society.
With trembling fingers, she hit call. When a real dial tone sounded, Ibi's eyes went wide. And when someone actually picked up, they doubled in size.
She finally steadied herself and held the phone to her face. An unfamiliar voice came through.
"Yes, hello?"
It was a light, carefree male voice. Not the woman who'd given her the card last time.
Of course, that hardly mattered in this situation. But now that it had come to this, Ibi didn't know what to say and just let out ragged breaths.
"Ha, haa... huff, huff......"
"...What's with the creepy breathing?"
"I-it's... haa, like... hngh......"
"Hanging up."
"Don't hang up don't hang up don't hang up!"
She barely averted disaster. But the man's voice still sounded displeased.
"What's the problem?"
"I-I'm... trapped somewhere right now......"
"Where?"
Ibi froze for a second. How could she even describe this place simply? And with the girl sure to come chasing soon, time was short.
"Honestly, I don't know either. Let me explain exactly what's happening. I got swallowed by a wooden box the size of my palm. When I opened my eyes, I was inside some wooden building I'd never seen before... with countless identical rooms and hallways, gears turning in the walls, music playing. And I'm being chased by a ghost in a school uniform! No matter how much I run, she keeps coming!"
It was the plain truth. But even as she said it, Ibi thought it sounded like utter nonsense.
She wouldn't blame him if he hung up now. Still, her life was on the line.
But the man didn't hang up. She almost thought he had after a few silent seconds. Instead, he spoke in a voice now much lower and gloomier than before.
"What does that ghost look like?"
"Sh-she's a high school girl with blood streaming from her forehead. She keeps saying she's the 'Guest.' No, that's all she says."
"......"
"Please save me. Tell me how to get out of here. Please!"
"...Hard to get a read just from words. Anything unusual in that room? Besides what you've mentioned."
His tone had shifted to informal speech, but now wasn't the time to nitpick. Unusual? What could be unusual...?
"Each room has two newspaper clippings posted, but the content's all different."
"What's on the ones in your room? Can you read them?"
This man hadn't proven himself yet. No guarantee he could actually get her out.
Even so, he was her only lifeline. Ibi obediently walked to the newspapers as instructed and read them aloud.
...Day 7.
...Son Yang, who froze to death on the 1st, has been wandering the cafe district.
Son Yang had asked to warm up inside a certain cafe right before dying but was refused. At the time, she'd spent all the money she'd brought from the orphanage.
Son Yang said she hopes the owner will treat her properly this time. Unlike last time.
She added, "I'm not a beggar anymore—I'm a guest now, so I believe I'll get the treatment I deserve. The owner won't be as rude as the director..."
...Day 8.
...Son Yang is still wandering that street.
Unlike the orphanage where she'd spent her whole life, she doesn't clearly remember where that cafe is.
When she visited, the raging fever and bone-chilling cold made her surroundings a blur. But Son Yang vowed not to give up until she finds that cafe.
Son Yang is still wandering that street....
She read as fast as she could. But by the time she finished, the music had already started, well into the middle. The Guest would come again soon.
"......"
Yet the man stayed silent even after hearing every word she read aloud. It probably hadn't been more than a few seconds, but Ibi was fuming.
"Not your standard newspaper article, huh."
And that was all he had to say? Ibi couldn't hold back and exploded.
"Fuck, I know that already!"
"...Hanging up?"
"Sorry sorry I'm sorry please don't hang up I beg you please......"
Ibi pleaded, but the man seemed to have just tossed it out there, lost in thought as if from the start.
"The Guest wasn't originally a vengeful ghost... If she died recently, it kinda fits, but something still feels off..."
Ibi wanted to hear more, but time had truly run out. The music ended. And then it came.
Tap, tap, tap.
Tap, tap, tap.
"L-listen... she's here again. I gotta run. I still don't know which door she'll come through."
"Mm."
She'd hoped for a miracle, but he offered no solution. Just this.
"Observe closely. No ghost moves without rules. There has to be a pattern to which door she picks."
"Saying that doesn't..."
Help at all—that's what she meant to say. But before she could finish, the door straight ahead burst open. Ibi shoved the phone in her pocket, spun around, and fled through the opposite door.
The hallway appeared. It felt like she was endlessly circling the same place. And practically speaking, she was. Seeing the same scenery over and over made her head spin. Even the door ahead looked identical to all the others she'd seen...
But when it opened, the sight inside was completely different from before.
The room was still wooden, of course. But there were no cogwheels anywhere. Instead of the perfectly square shape of the other rooms, this one had a triangular structure. And unlike before, there was only one door—the one she'd just come through.
At this starkly alien change, Ibi tensed but also felt a strange relief. At least she wouldn't be trapped in the same maze forever?
But as she looked around the room more, that hope faded, replaced by a creeping dread on her face.
Instead of newspapers, two calendars hung on the walls. Old-fashioned ones where you tore off a sheet each day. Ibi knew of them only from movies—she'd never seen one in person.
They showed the 9th and 10th. The odd part wasn't the dates, but the large characters printed dead center on each sheet.
The 9th had ‘’. The 10th had ‘’.