Chapter 119
Chapter 119
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 119
Chapter Title: Even If I Fall into a Ghost Story, I Still Have to Go to Work
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My hand slipped.
Coins spilled out from the gut of the severed plush toy's lower half.
"…!"
I hurriedly plugged it up and uselessly pressed the two halves of the plush toy together.
"Brown?"
But naturally, there was no response.
The plush toy's upper half simply slid off the lower half.
"……."
No….
No, maybe it's because I've been staring at it…!
"Brown."
I turned my head away, closed my eyes, and held the doll up to my ear.
And then….
"…!!"
A vibration came from the doll.
It was definitely a signal.
But it was very faint, crackling like a radio frequency brushed by accident.
'It's still there.'
It was still there. In that case….
'Blood Bath Tub!'
Click. I immediately locked the train bathroom door. Then, from the tattoo on my wrist, I pulled out a small tub with a checkered pattern and blonde hair attached.
The so-called Youth Tub.
Thud. The tub settled on the floor. I carefully placed the nearly bisected doll inside, and then….
I picked up the cutter blade dropped by the passenger who had passed out after the failed ambush.
I slashed my forearm with it.
Blood poured from the burst vein.
'No time for alternatives in this emergency…!'
If I'd cut a passed-out human's arm, they might wake up, or I might not be able to stop the bleeding.
'I can't handle a situation spiraling out of control.'
My blood poured into the Blood Bath Tub. The scent of wood and fragrant aromatics wafted up intensely.
Filled with bath salts, the doll began to swell and grow, as if inflating….
It was rejuvenating.
The plush toy's fur became cleaner and glossier, an enigmatic light gleaming from its pebble-like eyes.
And then it rapidly grew in size.
As if it had crossed some critical threshold. Soaked in the bath salts, the doll escaped keychain size and expanded to fill both hands.
Just like the original 'Good Friend' plush toy.
Pop.
The bowtie-shaped hair ribbon couldn't withstand the pressure and snapped off, sticking to one side of the tub.
The transformation was that pronounced.
But, but….
The doll was still silent.
"……."
I held my breath and turned my head again, pressing my ear toward the doll.
The vibration from before was gone.
The bisected plush toy merely floated aimlessly on the fragrant bath salts in the Blood Bath Tub….
"……."
I stared at the doll again.
The 'Good Friend' plush toy, now large enough to fill the small Blood Bath Tub, glistened like a handcrafted artisan doll fresh off the line.
Yet it remained bisected.
'Ah.'
The Youth Tub restored youth, per se… but it didn't heal wounds….
"……."
I'd actually known that.
No, I'd known, but I'd tried anyway….
The Good Friend plush toy was broken.
I took a deep breath.
'…It's fine.'
I could just get another one.
Yeah, not from the merch box—from the original source.
The Jolly Theme Park was still around. The Good Friend plush toy was sold in its souvenir shop.
'I had to go there anyway, so this is actually efficient.'
Get a new Good Friend doll there. Summon it the same way as before….
…….
"……Ha."
Don't kid myself.
I already knew.
The 'Good Friend' summoning wasn't calling a specific entity—it summoned 'someone from the other side of the world.'
'No guarantee the same one would come even if summoned again.'
No, it would actually be weirder if the exact same one appeared again.
I'd read the [Darkness Exploration Records] for the fun of seeing different someones appear in each summoning record.
'Haha,'
Ha….
"……."
At this point, I had no choice but to admit it.
Regardless of mental corruption, I'd grown quite attached to this bizarre plush toy….
'But who wouldn't?'
It really was a 'Good Friend.'
Encouraging me in tough times, getting angry with me when I was mad, sharing deep talks, watching late-night variety shows together.
A friend who put me first without calculation.
You only meet friends like that in childhood school days….
"……."
Yeah.
Let's try everything we can.
"Maybe I should try sewing it."
If that doesn't work, find a restoration item, enter a ghost story that repairs objects… plenty of options to dig up and try.
For my mental sake, at least.
"Let's do it."
I calmed down a bit.
My head, overly rattled by the sudden, unforeseen incident, regained composure and started calculating.
'First, clean up.'
I reached into the Blood Bath Tub and lifted out Brown’s dangling upper and lower halves.
And just as I was about to roughly stuff the cotton back in and store the doll—
'Huh?'
A fluttering scrap of fabric caught my eye on the back of the plush toy.
A small rectangular silk patch sewn along the seam connecting the head and body.
'…A tag?'
It seemed the trace that had faintly appeared after the last Blood Bath Tub dip had fully returned this time.
'The Good Friend's… product label, maybe.'
Don't they have those? Origin, washing instructions, care, or buyer/maker signatures.
My gaze drifted to it unconsciously.
It was clearly label-sized and formatted, with tiny, illegible script in bizarre curlicues.
But something far more eye-catching overshadowed it.
Over all that info, scrawled in huge letters with black marker like censorship.
Label Removal Essential
[Ah.]
[There it is.]
Snap.
A massive hand snatched the tag.
A hand gloved in sleek dress suit leather.
Its thumb swiftly covered the text almost completely as it yanked the tag.
[Found it.]
That hand.
Was emerging from inside the half-destroyed 'Good Friend' plush toy I was holding.
Crunch, crackle.
The doll's lower half split open. Beyond the fully extracted arm, a shoulder emerged, followed by the other brutish arm bracing against the sink.
Soon, the rest of the massive body poured out, filling the tiny bathroom.
A massive frame clad in a dapper brown three-piece suit, long legs, black lace-up shoes below, and….
A spherical television instead of a head.
A smile.
[]
The enormous spherical TV head, bursting from the shattered doll's lower half, tilted toward me.
[Sol-eum!]
The head shook.
The host was gripping my shoulder.
The ghost story host wiggled the tag between his fingers. The plush toy's tattered upper half dangled limply.
"[Ah, restoring this tag was a brilliant choice! Thanks to it, I could find my way here. Phew.]
[Oh, admiration, praise, applause—I'll humbly accept them all… Haha, truth be told, I just finished rehearsing a live broadcast, so timing worked out.]
[Anyway, we meet again so soon!]"
"……."
[Sol-eum?]
What is this?
Snap.
The host snapped his fingers.
The emoticon vanished from the TV head.
Instead, something trudged into view on the screen.
…A bowtie-wearing Good Friend rabbit doll.
"The Good Friend…."
No.
"The Good Friend…."
"Is a doll."
…….
…….
Click.
Pinpoint lighting stabbed into the cramped studio space that had been a bathroom.
Now the spotlight illuminated the legendary host and me.
I couldn't turn my head.
"[You seemed passive for a reason—a huge misunderstanding… No worries. It's awkward for me to say, but the one before you is a very kind and capable show host.]
[Always adept at explanations, as ever. Now….]"
The gloved hand properly picked up the ruined doll—not the tag.
The Good Friend rabbit doll broadcasting from the TV head vanished, replaced by the grinning emoticon.
And then….
Whoosh.
…The Good Friend plush toy in the host's hand.
Incinerated.
Pat pat. As the host brushed his hands, scant ashes fell from the glove to scatter on the floor.
I stared blankly at it.
But.
'It wasn't just partially possessing the doll to act like a friend….'
…….
Inviting someone from the other side of the world, embedding a fragment of their mind in the doll to make a friend—an occult object.
In other words,
I, the plush toy, necktie, and coin….
The host pointed to himself.
"[Does a broken phone cancel dinner plans? Does smashing a mailbox erase bills? Does tearing a love letter end a romance? We already know the answer.]
[No!]
[So… here's the question.]"
[Does breaking the doll cancel your invitation?]
The host spread his arms wide.
Ah.
"……."
My stiffened mind slowly pieced together the sentence.
'So,'
The Good Friend ritual didn't summon just a fragment of a non-human entity to confine in the doll as a friend.
The entity was merely filtered to show only a part through the plush toy—like a children's role-play.
The TV head's emoticon briefly teared up in感動 before reverting to a smile.
The hand on my shoulder patted my back encouragingly.
And said,
"…!"
"[New cast, new set, new music, new season… All filming prep done. My humble talk show, solely for the audience's joy.]
[With great pleasure, I introduce… your new workplace….]"
No.
I reflexively backed away.
Open the door, get out, escape this spotlight, clear my head, my thoughts….
The smiling emoticon on the TV head disappeared.
No.
The screen went black.
"[A fan of my show, thrilled just by applying as a contestant, now fleeing the chance to become part of the talk show? After all my advice, help, full support, and devotion?]
[Sol-eum, isn't friendship supposed to be mutual? This emotional, one-sided rejection! I, I… I'm hurt.]"
I felt like vomiting.
"S-Sorry…."
"[Oh! No need to apologize, Sol-eum. Thoughtless apologies aren't a virtue for show creators.]
[And I'm always a host who reads minds and moods….]
[So.]"
The next moment.
Flash.
The screen filled entirely with grinning emoticons.
Filled.
Completely.
"Wait…."
But the massive spherical TV head drew closer.
Closer.
Even.
Closer.