The Sixth Ghost Story - The College Entrance Exam Banned Song (1)

[March 10, 2019, Sunday, 16:20]

[Lee Joon - 2nd Round]

[Ghost Story Points: 12]

[Causal Rate: 9%]

Click. As I click the mouse, my character fires the rifle.

[Bang!]

The enemy hiding in the bushes jumps up in surprise.

[Splurt—]

No use. The bastard's head flies off.

"This rifle's got the fastest muzzle velocity around here."

Probably only weekends are faster than that. Today was Sunday. Yesterday, I slept all day, woke up, and killed time on the computer at home. Today, I got up at lunchtime, munched on snacks in my room while gaming, and suddenly it was afternoon.

Mom's at temple, so she's never home Sunday afternoons, and Dad's just rolling around in the living room, not paying any attention to my gaming. No one can stop me from gaming on Sunday afternoons like this.

School's been a madhouse during the week, filling my head with questions, but pondering them alone wouldn't help. Most answers only come from clashing head-on as time passes.

So for this weekend, I decided to sleep in, laze around, and blow off steam.

I got bored of shooting and flopped onto the bed, rolling around, when Mom came back from temple and opened my door.

"Son~ Come grocery shopping with Mom~"

"Mmmph. Nooo... Gonna stay home. Hehe."

"Come on out~ Mom can't carry the bags alone. Okay?"

Mom opened the door and cooed at me bundled in the blanket. I had no choice but to change clothes and head to the living room.

"Heh heh, have a safe trip."

Dad, in his tracksuit, called out from the sofa.

"What're you saying? You have to drive!"

Soon, our family was shopping at the nearby Clover Mart. While waiting in the endless checkout line alone, I slipped over to the electronics section to check out the latest TVs. That's when I spotted a familiar face in the distance.

"Gyeong-won!"

"Oh, President."

Gyeong-won's parents stood on either side of him. Both wore glasses, giving off total university professor vibes.

Glasses must run in the family.

"A friend, huh."

"Hello~"

"Nice to meet you."

But he didn't seem thrilled—Gyeong-won's dad adjusted his glasses, eyeing me up like he was appraising me.

"Classmate? Heh heh. How do you know each other?"

Gyeong-won answered instead.

"We're in the same class, and he's our club vice president."

"Club?"

For a split second, Gyeong-won's dad's glasses seemed to flash.

"What club?"

"Well, ghost sto—"

I cut in quick before Gyeong-won could finish.

"It's a folklore ghost story research club."

"Folklore ghost stories?"

"Yes."

I nodded calmly.

"We research various traditional folktales passed down orally in Korea."

"Hoo. I see. Folklore ghost stories!"

The old man nodded approvingly. Total stickler type. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Slap "folklore" on it, and he's eating it up.

"Studying traditions—good idea. Heh heh."

"Thank you."

"But you're the vice president?" His eyes gleamed again. I beat him to the punch once more.

"Vice president. There's a club president, then vice president below. We shorten it to president and VP."

"Ah, so that means..."

I nodded.

"Gyeong-won's the club president."

Gyeong-won looked at me with admiring eyes.

"Heh heh, of course! Our smart Gyeong-won ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wouldn't serve under anyone!"

Gyeong-won's dad laughed heartily, pleased as punch.

"Kid, you should've told your dad you were club president. Heh heh."

"First week of school was crazy," Gyeong-won replied vaguely, flashing me a mix of apologetic and impressed looks. His lips moved like he was muttering to himself, and a message popped up.

Oh ho... Nothing special, but since the guy's lacking in that talent, it looks impressive to him.

Lip Reading works like this, huh.

I'd gotten the ability but felt no different, so I was curious. Guess the system reads lips automatically.

"See you later. Gyeong-won, catch you tomorrow. Bye~"

"Nice meeting you, VP."

I turned away, leaving Gyeong-won mumbling awkwardly. Bruised his pride a bit, but we'll never see that old man again anyway. Call it a favor owed from Gyeong-won—profit.

Heading back to Mom with Dad, who was waiting, he suddenly asked,

"Hey, Joon-ah. That club... you said ghost stories? Because of that weird stuff?"

"Yeah, exactly."

I nodded. He was thinking of the hallway ghost we ran into together last time.

"Felt like I needed to look into it more, so I started it."

"I see. Sorry I don't know much about that stuff. But if you need anything, just say. I'll help."

"Thanks, haha."

Mom was struggling to load the cart alone in the distance.

"Where'd you two disappear to, seriously~?"

"Kekeke, sorry, honey. Son ran into a friend, so I waited~"

Sunday passed like that.

Monday, the weekend lethargy lingered through morning, so we half-slept through classes till lunch, finally gathering in the cafeteria.

"Seon-ah, here."

"Yeah."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Me, Gyeong-won, and Seon-ah carefully navigated the chaotic cafeteria trays.

"Sit here."

"Okay."

One more joined—Ha-yoon had snuck up and sat naturally.

"Hi."

"Hi~"

We exchanged greetings and scarfed down stir-fried pork. Then commotion from the side made us all turn.

"Kekekeke!"

"Kyarruk."

The popular crowd from our grade—delinquents blasting music from phones while eating. Scruffy guys and heavy-makeup girls cackling.

"Kekeke, kekekeke."

Just a week into the semester, and they're already cliqued up. Impressive pack mentality. I snuck a glance at the girls' casually crossed legs.

Seon-ah frowned, glancing over too.

"They're so rude."

"Yeah. So noisy..."

Seon-ah puffed her cheeks in agreement.

"Let's eat quick and head to the club room."

"Yeah."

Seon-ah smiled at "club room."

Come to think of it, that song's been ages.

Memories of my past life surfaced. Right around now, a rookie idol girl's song blew up nationwide. Catchy melody, repetitive lyrics—total earworm, the "banned from college exams" type. Annoying as hell in the hospital post-head explosion, popping up every channel flip.

Weird ad-libs in the chorus. Reminded me of Brown Eyed Girls' "Abracadabra"—nonsensical magic words over fun melody hooked everyone.

Were the lyrics like that?

Three years ago for me—memory fuzzy. Felt off, but couldn't place it, so I shrugged.

"Hey, something's weird..."

Seon-ah tilted her head.

"Was our club room... this big?"

She scanned the room.

"Same as always."

Gyeong-won plopped into a chair casually.

An Gyeong-won. Knows tons in his head but not detail-oriented. Lucky for me.

"No... it feels bigger..."

Seon-ah looked puzzled at me. I clamped my mouth shut, staying silent.

"Feels the same to me?"

Ha-yoon smiled faintly from behind, answering for me.

Seon-ah muttered, "Chairs seem more too..." and sat with a confused face.

Sorry, Seon-ah.

Hadn't shared everything with members yet. They guessed I'd dealt with weird stuff before from the dream incident. But no clue about living three extra years or the game system.

Seon-ah's lived cramped, so the expansion hits her hard.

"Ah~ Gonna nap here till lunch ends."

Gyeong-won yawned, flopping on the desk. Still shaking off weekend syndrome.

Ha-yoon pulled out a book and read. Seon-ah peeked at her desk mate's book.

"Guys, a sofa here would be perfect, right."

I sat by the window.

"For napping in free periods."

"Heh, buy one with your money, VP."

Gyeong-won mumbled face-down.

I opened the status window's club menu, eyeing the shop.

Can't click in, as expected.

If only I could preview. Tch.

Maybe shop pricey furniture with Ghost Story Points instead of cash.

Expand space, stick a TV here, bed there.

Decorate fully—computers for after-school gaming! Imagining the club room as our ultimate hideout passed lunch. A guy's romance, after all.

Four days later, Friday with second CA period arrived.

[March 15, 2019, Friday, 10:05]

[Lee Joon - 2nd Round]

[Ghost Story Points: 12]

[Causal Rate: 9%]

Compared to the turbulent first week, this one was shockingly peaceful.

Can't believe nothing's happening.

Heaven compared to last week's daily limb-loss disasters.

Third period: music. We grabbed the thinnest, most popular textbook and headed out.

"Huff, huff. Why does Korea make us move classrooms per subject?"

"What? Japan does it too, and you love Japan."

"Kuso."

Deok-hoon sweated up the fourth-floor stairs.

Some subjects have dedicated rooms—science to lab, music to music room, PE to field or gym, dance to studio, etc.

"One note higher. Aaaaah, aa~"

"Aaaaaah~"

The mid-50s teacher, radiating music-teacher prickliness, led us on piano warm-ups. I half-assed the chorus, still mulling the club room.

With teacher, we're seven. Six chairs—system wants VP standing? Nice touch.

Lost in thought, teacher slammed the piano and yelled,

"Quiet! Quiet! Who's making that noise?"

Me? Too lazy singing? But no.

"Who left their phone on? Turn it off now!"

Teacher snapped sharply. A dopey kid finally pulled out his phone in panic.

"Phew, why doesn't this school confiscate phones anyway."

Confirming quiet, she sighed irritably and resumed piano.

They used to, but last year some class's phone box vanished wholesale. Thirty phones gone—millions in latest models. Teachers said ignore phones, study. Parents tacitly agreed till theft hit; then demanded compensation. School quit confiscating. We benefit, but it's adults' fallout.

Tch, students are powerless. Just pawns. Gotta beat the Demon King and graduate quick.

Suddenly—

"Someone turned their phone on again! Argh!"

She slammed keys, screaming. Kids exchanged panicked looks, some annoyed.

Who the hell?

No sense of timing?

Just had phone drama!

We glared, hunting culprit. I scanned too, then noticed.

...It's quiet?

Yeah. Silent music room. Deok-hoon next to me looked baffled too.

"Turn it off now! I said off!"

Teacher shrieked hysterically. Kids froze, eyeing each other.

"This! This! Oieou, ouyeye, whatever! It's still playing! You hear it?"

She tapped her ears, hunting source.

"I hear it! Where?!"

Down from piano stage, crossing toward us.

"Here? No, here! Who is it?!"

Quiet room. Hushed kids. Only her frantic desk-probing noises.

"Here-ish."

She stopped at Ha-yoon's desk.

Kids held breath, glancing. Seon-ah worriedly eyed her desk mate.

"Here! Right here! Hey, phone out!"

Teacher smacked Ha-yoon's skirt pocket with pointer irritably.

Ha-yoon calmly handed over her pink phone.

"Here it is! See?!"

Teacher snatched it, held to ear, frowned.

Yeah. Silent. What song?

Only kids' tense breaths before furious teacher.

"Not here? Close though?"

Irritated, tossed back to Ha-yoon, ear cocked, shifting.

"You don't hear? Oie ou, oieou!"

Next: Seon-ah's seat.

"Hey! You!"

Teacher bellowed.

"Phone. Out."

Seon-ah trembled, fishing cheap phone from pocket—discount store freebie smartphone.

Teacher listened, realized not source, scowled.

"Not it? Definitely from here?"

Irritably tapped, tilted, pressed to ear. Seon-ah shook, staring ground.

"Hey! You!"

Another bellow. Seon-ah looked up terrified.

"Heard it clear from here! Why's your phone on?!"

"N-no... it's not..."

Seon-ah just trembled, shaking head.

"I heard it! Clear as day! When'd you turn it off?!"

Skinny neck veined, spittle flying.

"Huh? Huh? See! See! Again! Again! Again!"

Shaking head Seon-ah.

"Again!!! Still! Again!!!! Again!!!! Hear it!!!!! Caught you!!!!!! Name!!!!!!"

Seon-ah nearly sobbed, shaking head—

"Teacher, no song or anything."

Ha-yoon beside her spoke crystal-clear, like rolling beads.

"...What?"

"It's quiet. Must've misheard."

Teacher shut mouth mid-retort. Ha-yoon's precise tone defied argument.

Teacher pressed phone to ear again, tapped, set on Seon-ah's desk, slowly returned to piano.

Seon-ah too shaken to pocket it, just trembled.

"Not it... Song echoed again."

Teacher muttered blankly at piano.

"Oieou, ouyeye, ashai... oieou... Like that... You don't hear?"

Glassy eyes swept us.

"Still... oieou... ashai... oieou... Like... Still playing... Since yesterday... Night too... Morning... Even still... Bathroom... Class... Keeps playing... oieou... oieou... ei ei... ashai... lishizednibmeoju... English? Spanish?..."

We watched tensely.

"Modern K-pop... so weird... Foreign words mixed... What language... Why not Korean... Weird... Keeps playing... oieou... oieou... ashai... tum... etum... ashai... ouyeye... ouyeye."

Kids gulped.

We just sweated coldly, praying class end quick.

Ghost Story Club