Interlude: The Ghost Story Club Room (2)

Official club activities at school didn't start until tomorrow, but we were so curious about what the club room looked like that we spent the whole day fidgeting restlessly.

After school. The moment afternoon homeroom ended, the three of us rushed to our homeroom teacher.

"Where's the Ghost Story Club room?"

The homeroom teacher stared at us with a look of utter disbelief.

"You're telling me there's a club like that in this school? And it even has its own room? What the...?"

Yoon Seon-ah and An Gyeong-won shot me alternating glances, their faces screaming that this didn't match the story I'd told them.

"No way, Joon. You didn't get duped by those fake documents I printed for you yesterday, did you?"

I fixed him with a serious glare.

"...Fine, fine. Got it. Head up to the fifth floor—there should be a wooden door labeled as the multipurpose room. That's your club room from now on. Please keep it clean."

"Thanks."

The pot-bellied, balding middle-aged homeroom teacher muttered on with a sullen expression.

"Not falling for it anymore, huh, Joon? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠This teacher's heartbroken."

I spun on my heel coldly and led Yoon Seon-ah and An Gyeong-won out of the classroom.

The school basked in the languid afternoon sunlight. We dashed past the excited first-years heading home and the glum upperclassmen stuck with evening self-study, all the way up to the fifth floor.

"Hurry! Hurry!"

Huff, huff. Fueled by anticipation, we skipped stairs two or three at a time without even noticing the strain—until we arrived.

"...It's locked."

Yoon Seon-ah murmured blankly.

At the very end of the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fifth-floor hallway, just as the homeroom teacher described, there was a multipurpose room with a wooden door in an oddly ambiguous spot. A sign above read 'Multipurpose Room 3'. It was in a position so inexplicable it felt like it had suddenly sprouted between classrooms today.

The problem? The door was locked tight. Twisting the handle just made a futile click.

"...Well, yeah. We got permission, but official activities start tomorrow. Guess we get the key then."

An Gyeong-won muttered, sounding disappointed too.

The sturdy wooden door stood shut. There was a small window up top to peek inside, but even that was covered by paper from within.

What lay beyond this door? What did our club room—the place where we'd spend the next three years—look like?

We wasted the whole day waiting for this, and it's locked... In the lazy afternoon, the three of us stood dumbly in front of the club room. I was about to pat them on the back, hide my own disappointment, and say we'd come back tomorrow—it's not like the room vanished—when a message appeared above the door handle.

I quietly glanced at Yoon Seon-ah and An Gyeong-won. As expected, they couldn't see it. I pressed my finger to the handle and tapped the message.

Click.

Yoon Seon-ah and An Gyeong-won watched me fiddle with the handle.

"...Don't be too bummed, President. We can come back tomorrow. It's not like the club's disappearing—"

Clunk. At that instant, the latch clicked open, and the handle turned.

An Gyeong-won trailed off mid-sentence, mouth agape in shock. I played it cool.

"Huh, this handle. Must've been a bit stiff. Gave it some muscle, and it turned."

I felt everyone's tense stares. My heart pounded.

Whoosh! I flung the door wide.

Creeeak—

"Whoaaa!"

"Wow!"

There it was: a cozy, compact club room. Large windows draped with curtains. One big table and four chairs. A wheeled stand-up whiteboard. At about 20 square feet, it was a tad cramped, but it had everything—a perfect club room.

"Well, well, President. You really..."

An Gyeong-won, who had seamlessly switched from my name to "President," grinned. He adjusted his glasses and shook his head as if he couldn't believe it.

"How the hell did a freshman like you snag a room like this the second we decided to start the club?! Seriously. Heh."

Loving this.

"What to call it? Resourceful? Yeah, President. Heh."

I nodded and smiled back at him as he muttered under his breath.

Yoon Seon-ah looked around in awe.

"It's so clean here! The desks, the chairs—they're all brand new...!"

"No big deal."

I shrugged nonchalantly. Truth be told, I figured anywhere without rats scurrying around would be a win, but I hadn't expected the system to provide such a pristine base. Even the floor gleamed like it was fresh off the assembly line. The school was old, with worn buildings everywhere, but this room looked newly built.

Impressive. I couldn't help admiring it inwardly.

I approached the window, drew back the pure white curtains, and peered down. In the afternoon sun, students with backpacks streamed out from the center of the playground.

Smiling warmly at Yoon Seon-ah and An Gyeong-won as they tested the chairs and ran hands over the desks, I checked the menu.

Main screen.

The previously locked Club Management menu was now open. Heart racing with curiosity, I tapped it.

Club Management brought up four sub-menus. I decided to check them one by one, slowly.

Number 1. Club Status.

The club had levels too? It reminded me of tycoon games from my childhood—RollerCoaster Tycoon, Zoo Tycoon—where you leveled up and expanded facilities.

What changes when the club levels up?

Investing points in myself had granted weird abilities. What happened with club points?

My hoarded 100 points! I was tempted to dump them here.

But not with eyes on me.

I glanced ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠back at Yoon Seon-ah and An Gyeong-won. Who knew what changes dumping points might trigger? Regretfully, with members present, I'd save the level-up for tomorrow.

I went back and tapped 2: Member Management.

Holy shit.

I'd figured it was game-like, but this? It felt straight out of an MMO guild management screen.

Lee Jin-hee is that scary girl who sleeps in the back of class. Jang Hwa-eun... who was that again?

I recalled the homeroom teacher's words about assigning a leftover teacher as advisor. The system must treat her as a member too.

I tapped Yoon Seon-ah's name.

Ah, so that's how it links.

Tapping the name pulled up the familiar status window. Before, if someone vanished from sight, I couldn't check—but as members, I could access anytime via menu.

The 'NEW!' by her trait nagged at me.

Probably added descriptions from built-up understanding.

Now accessible anytime, I'd read it leisurely at home. I backed out.

Now 3: Shop.

Level 5... How many points to get there? If each level takes 100, that's 400 more for this mystery shop.

I'd earned 5 from the D-grade Announcement Ghost Story survival. 10 from the C-grade Red Tissue Blue Tissue. 15 each from the B-grade Smiling Woman and Mom Ghost, plus 70 bonus for exorcising them.

400 points... That's five more Smiling Woman fights.

A sigh escaped me—not for the shop, but the grind ahead.

How much more rolling in the dirt?

This enigmatic three years felt long and grueling. Running a club, farming points, leveling up... Fine by me. As an ordinary guy, I welcomed the game fantasy.

If only no ghost stories!

The system was intriguing, but trembling over limb-lopping monsters? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Hard pass.

Contemplating battling ghost stories in this tycoon game weighed heavy.

Those horrors—I'd avoid them if possible. My true heart.

...Sigh.

Who'd choose this hardship? Memories of my past life surfaced: after Naksung High closed, three peaceful years at another school. Study, game at home, exercise on days off. University as a concrete goal, just follow the path. No life-or-death stress.

Blissful normalcy. I wished it back—especially with my rewind-on-death cheat. Maybe rig lotteries or whatever.

"...Hey, Joon."

Yoon Seon-ah's call pulled me from the window. She and An Gyeong-won sat watching me—the Ghost Story Club president by the window, members below.

Who'd have thought my life veered here?

"What're we doing for club time tomorrow?"

Yoon Seon-ah asked hesitantly. An Gyeong-won eyed me curiously too.

Yeah. Even if I dodged this for another life...

The Demon King awakens in three years. No escape; cozy life ends then. No retreat.

This life, I'd live it like this.

I craved normalcy, but the world isn't all safe and sweet. Special situations or not, we face unyielding moments.

"Tomorrow, let's share scary stories we know—gauge knowledge and tastes. Cool for day one?"

Let's try. Live this life.

"...Yeah, got it! I'll think of some!"

"Heh, my head's full of ghost stories—one day won't cut it, but..."

And so the afternoon passed.

Ghost Story Club