Why Am I Like This?
Why the hell did I end up looking like this? It had already been half a year since that cataclysmic event I dubbed the "Day of Beginnings"—the day the sky split open and I thought the world was ending. Naturally, the world wasn't the same anymore. Bizarre phenomena called ghost stories started popping up alongside all sorts of monstrosities, and countless people dropped dead for no good reason.
But if someone asked, "So, is Earth done for?" I could confidently say no. Amid the chaos, people forged a new order and adapted to reality faster than you'd expect.
"Heard another one showed up last night?"
"Yeah, the 'Black Shadow' ghost story, right? You absolutely can't look at the silhouette outside your window if it appears... but some curious idiot did anyway."
"Tsk tsk. What the hell gave that guy the guts? He's not even an awakener."
People were chatting about ghost stories on their morning commutes, for crying out loud.
Ghost stories. They were real disasters, and to survive them, folks started studying. Turns out, they all followed set rules. Sure, it cost a mountain of lives to figure those out, but once you knew them, you could survive the same ghost story every time.
People shared info, and the government set up the Monster Countermeasure Headquarters to analyze them systematically. For example:
['Black Shadow Ghost Story' : Do not perceive its form for 10 seconds or longer.]
['Man Who Calls' : A call at 4:44:44 AM. Never pick up.]
These days, people memorized the distributed rules and went about their daily lives. There were too many for an average person to keep track of, but not for me. I'd known them all along.
"...Even now, it's just absurd. Two years of reading those novels, and they turn into reality."
I loved ghost stories, sure, but come on—this is too much, author! That stuff's only fun in stories! You read it safe under the covers like, "Eek, so scary~ But it's not real, phew!" and call it a day!
"I never wanted to be a character in the damn story."
But I couldn't just complain forever.
The author had tasked me with finishing the stories of these bastards invading reality. Only then could things go back to normal. The problem? No clue where to start or how.
If someone knew my situation, they'd say, "Wait, didn't you read the novels? Can't you beat them? Just clear 'em all and get your normal life back!"
I thought that at first too. Over the past half year, I'd heard about tons of ghost story incidents, including ones straight from the novels. The issue was...
Ghost stories were spawning in the real world now. That was the biggest problem. The rule that ghost stories form from pooled unhappy emotions was applying here too. Rush a newbie ghost story without knowing its rules, and you're deader than dead.
That's why I couldn't go on a rampage—I'm stuck playing it safe. And honestly? It's scary as hell! Reading in 2D is worlds apart from 3D, 4D, augmented reality slapping you in the face with the real deal!
"Sigh. Such is my fate."
Bzzz.
I was mid-self-pity when my phone vibrated.
"Alright, what's it this time?"
Looks like the daily ghost story disaster alert had arrived, right on schedule since that day.
"Yesterday it was 'Ghost Story Case Compilation (RealUltimateFinal)', and it's updated again."
'New content... Confirmed existence of the Netherworld, ghost story domain... Red text appearances... Exercise extreme caution...'
I was skimming the updates when I noticed the time: 6:15 PM.
'Crap. Gotta get home before sunset.'
Rushing home before dark was standard now. But I had an extra big reason.
* * *
Half a year ago, the "Day of Beginnings". The city was devouring itself in pandemonium. Screams everywhere, ripping sounds, ominous black auras. Ghost stories from the novels were manifesting in real time, swallowing people whole.
"Hah... hah..."
The building shook, so I bolted outside—but it was just as dangerous. Just hours ago, it was a normal day.
"What the actual fuck is going on?!"
The ghost stories and disasters from my novels had taken physical form. My brain short-circuited; I couldn't process or believe it.
"F-First, find somewhere to hide—"
As I scanned around, boom!
"Gyaaah! Shit, you scared the piss outta me!!"
A nearby streetlamp shattered with a deafening crash. Before I could recover,
Step.
Step.
Glass crunching underfoot. Something was approaching from behind.
"Hah... no way, is that...?"
The moment our eyes met, I knew. It was a ghost story. Humanoid shape, but no face. It tilted its head creepily and spoke in a chilling voice.
A silhouette of a middle-aged man, asking to borrow a face. Definitely the "Faceless Man" ghost story from the novel. Infamous for stealing faces without warning, but its rule was simple.
'The Faceless Man only moves in the "deepest darkness."'
To avoid it, stick close to the faint streetlamp light!
...Or so I thought—
Crackle!
"Ah, come on, not fair!!"
The last streetlamp shattered, plunging me into total darkness.
'Fuck... I'm dead...!!'
Thump—
Thump-thump—
Right as I braced for death, my heart pounded wildly, a tingling surging through my body.
"Ugh...?! What, what the hell?!"
Hiss—
Cold seeped through my veins, my fingertips numbing. My pupils shook as fathomless darkness swallowed my vision. My very existence twisted strangely.
'What the fuck is happening?'
As the changes subsided, I caught a blurry glimpse of myself in a shop window.
"...Who are you?"
Snow-white skin. Jet-black hair. Eyes like pitch black stood there.
It was me. But not me.
'...No idea what's going on, but gotta run like hell... Huh?'
Even in the thick darkness, the ghost story didn't charge. It just stared, head twisting side to side like it was observing me.
Shhh—
The Faceless Man stared for about 30 seconds, then dissolved into smoke.
"...Huh?? "
It ran away? A hunter ghost story bailed with prey right in front of it? What the hell?
"...Hiss, does it have something to do with my new look?"
I rubbed my eyes and checked the reflection again. No matter how I squinted, it didn't look human.
"...Guess I should head home first."
* * *
The second I got home, I rushed to the bathroom.
'...Why the sudden change?'
I swept back my messy hair, sorting my thoughts.
'Ghost stories appeared in reality.'
'And I changed too.'
'Does meeting ghost stories do this?'
'Or is it because it got dark?'
"No way, for real."
I couldn't help but laugh bitterly. If this form kicked in at night, I'd be housebound after sunset.
"Can't even hit the convenience store for late-night snacks anymore."
Hiss—
I tried thinking mundane thoughts, but the black aura still swirled around me protectively.
Never seen this in the novels... What is it?
'Gotta observe this change more.'
Rushing blindly was dangerous. Plus, I didn't remember everything about this world. I'd read the novel steadily for two years, but not every detail. New ghost stories might have spawned since they crossed over, and my knowledge might fall short.
"Sigh, beats me."
Flop.
I collapsed onto the bed with a sigh. Exhausted, but sleep wouldn't come. Maybe because this was my first night post-change.
"...Wonder if I'll be normal come morning."
I closed my eyes, hoping for the regular Yoon Si-hyeon tomorrow morning.