Chapter 149
Chapter 149
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 149
Chapter Title: Even If I Fall into a Ghost Story, I Still Have to Go to Work
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I've felt it bone-deep a few times before, but the ghost stories handled by the Disaster Management Bureau almost always involve casualties.
They only get registered as supernatural disasters once human lives are lost.
In that sense, working as a Disaster Management Bureau agent on tasks that keep you one step removed from the casualties could seem... pretty appealing.
No, I get that.
"At dawn... uh... pick up a ghost in the passenger seat and drive?"
"Yes."
"......"
Is this for real?
"Don't worry. There were no cases of the driver dying."
"......"
"At worst, a mild heart attack or fainting. You won't need to steel yourself too much."
I do, though.
I nearly betrayed my shock and betrayal by staring at Agent Bronze, but I barely held it back.
'Hold on.'
...If I outright admit I'm scared here, won't they tell me to quit?
I already whined once to get out of the rescue squad, and if I do it again, Agent Bronze—who our relationship is already awkward with—might just bluntly tell me to find another line of work.
'No way!'
That'd be the worst spy route.
So I changed tactics.
"B-but... I can't drive in my current condition."
"......"
I hung my head low, put on a slightly pitiful look, and glanced at the empty space where my right arm used to be.
Yeah.
'They won't make me drive one-handed like some lunatic...!'
Anyone who'd trained with one arm from the start might manage, but someone who suddenly lost an arm—how the hell am I supposed to take a ghost on a drive? At 2 a.m., no less!
This should naturally lead to reassigning me to—
"No need to worry about that."
"......"
"Pardon?"
Agent Bronze gave me a faint smile for the first time in days.
"It's time to address your arm."
Oh.
Thinking about it, it was obvious.
The Disaster Management Bureau isn't run by idiots—they wouldn't just toss a one-armed guy behind the wheel.
Obviously, they'd fix my missing right arm before sending me on this job.
'Should I laugh or cry about this.'
For now, I felt like crying.
Still, thanks to it, I finally entered the Supernatural Disaster Management Bureau headquarters with Agent Bronze.
'Never thought I'd actually see this place.'
"This way."
"Yes...!"
Instead of heading into the bustling city hall where the civil servants worked, I followed Agent Bronze back out and walked between city hall and the Seoul Metropolitan Library.
The back path was dim, shadowed by the two buildings.
We passed the unmanned book return kiosk behind the library, into the shaded alley...
'Here.'
A glass-enclosed connecting passageway between city hall and the library loomed overhead.
Under that bridge...
Flash.
The iron badge on my chest gleamed, illuminating the narrow flower bed under the library window.
And a door appeared where none had been visible.
"...!!"
The flower bed widened into a deep, hidden space, revealing a sleek, frosted glass door and nameplate.
"Come in."
And so, through the hidden door in the alley between Seoul City Hall and the Seoul Metropolitan Library—ignored by countless passersby—we entered the Supernatural Disaster Management Bureau headquarters.
It was an automatic door, by the way.
'Whoa.'
The interior was... surprisingly like any ordinary public office.
A somewhat worn building with depreciated interiors, filled with adults of various ages in suits going about their work.
Though the conversations weren't exactly mundane.
"How many died?"
"Fifteen."
"What the hell's gotten into Dobong-gu lately? That crazy payphone booth keeps..."
And they moved with purpose.
Strange lights or shadows sometimes trailed behind them, perfectly capturing the vibe of a public office in this bizarre ghost story world...
"Most of the bureau's facilities are underground. Hiding surface-level ones is trickier."
"I see..."
I followed Agent Bronze's guidance into the elevator.
It was a familiar, somewhat outdated modern elevator, but instead of buttons, the floors were entered via keypad.
'Probably to keep people from figuring out how many sublevels there are...'
Agent Bronze quickly entered the code.
"Equipment Management Division is on sublevel 7."
We descended to sublevel 7—which looked identical to sublevel 1—and knocked on a door right at the corridor's end.
As we entered, a middle-aged civil servant sitting alone in the small office looked up with a nod of recognition.
"Agent Bronze! I was just talking about that team's senior... Oh, and this must be the new recruit!"
"...Yes. That's right."
"Hello...! I'm Agent Grape..."
"Haha, got it. Nice to meet you! I'm Oh Jeong-hye, Equipment Management Division staff officer. I'm administrative, not field ops, so no nickname."
The middle-aged officer smiled and led us deeper inside.
Opening a door that looked like a dark wooden display case...
"...!"
Shelves stretched deep into a warehouse.
"Here's what Agent Grape will be issued today..."
The officer's voice faded as the warehouse darkened before my eyes...
"This is it!"
Flash.
Something sparkled like moonlight hitting glass.
I looked at the nearest shelf.
A worn, cracked glass lantern.
Yet so intricately crafted that light twinkled through the delicate glasswork.
And in its center, a pale blue flame leaped toward me with a pop pop.
"Today's goblin fire is full of energy! It's thrilled to help you out."
Oh my god.
The coolest, most exciting option had come true.
"Want to try holding it?"
I carefully lifted the glass lantern with my trembling left hand.
The moment I did, it shattered.
"...!"
The transparent shards reassembled on my right arm like ice crystals with a clear chime.
The goblin fire enveloped it, and in the next instant...
"Perfect!"
It became a perfectly normal arm.
I shook it.
...It moved fine.
No pain at all.
'Wow.'
Among phenomena classified as ghost stories, this was on the heartwarming, feel-good end.
'Feels more like folklore or a folktale.'
I clenched and unclenched my right hand a few times—it felt strangely cool and soft, yet moved as I willed.
Then my right hand spontaneously thumbs-upped and dropped.
"...?!"
"Ah, it's got a bit of mischief. But that'll actually help on the job. Haha!"
"...Yes."
Even civil servants get steeped in this ghost story world vibe...
And so, I filled the void of my right arm with this mystical goblin fire.
Of course, not permanently.
"It's not customized with your birth chart, so it'll revert to lantern form after three days. Just come back for a recharge."
Yeah, I figured a newbie wouldn't get a bespoke goblin fire lantern right away.
This was more like shared office equipment.
'If it were, the Disaster Management Bureau would be ridiculously overpowered in the Darkness Exploration Records.'
"Custom ones are tailored that way? This is the quick version—you can't take it without the goblin trial, and... whew, it's powerful but tough."
Those are reserved for aces or team leaders in the bureau.
'Handy excuse to whip up a regeneration potion midway through.'
Anyway, I bowed to the two officers who'd even helped with the checkout paperwork.
"Thank you."
"No big deal."
The Equipment Management staff officer winked over his glasses and whispered.
"You're the first newbie Agent Bronze has gone this far for."
"...!"
"Always overworking without a word—respectable, but sometimes pitiful... Glad to see him getting along with you."
"Th-thank you."
"Anytime."
I wasn't sure about "getting along," but after today, he seemed surprisingly courteous and attentive.
Had he sorted out his feelings while I was hospitalized?
'Maybe since he owes me his life, he feels obligated to treat me well despite the awkwardness.'
Either way, I was grateful.
On the way back, Agent Bronze even said:
"-It'll take time, but eventually, we'll find a custom goblin fire for you."
"-...Thank you."
It was intriguing and exciting.
Wonder what shape it'd take.
'If I can pull off goblin pranks, escaping ghost stories might get way easier.'
Of course, my spy gig would probably end first, which is better for my safety, but the idea wasn't bad.
...Even if having a non-me arm on my right side felt profoundly weird sometimes.
......And even though I'm now waiting until dawn to play cab for a ghost.
'Save me.'
I stifled a groan and endured the wait.
With two arms, I was locked into driving.
'Urk.'
Time slipped away mercilessly... until the hour arrived.
2 a.m.
Dark Express Bus Terminal Station.
Of course, it's drizzling.
Public transit has stopped, crowds dispersed, silence fallen.
Only a couple taxis like mine—targeting night surcharges and lack of alternatives—lined the roadside.
"......"
I gripped the wheel tight.
And I was the one tasked with "escorting the ghost safely back to its origin."
'...Agent Bronze said he'd prepare at the destination.'
Hoo.
I took a deep breath alone in the silent car.
Which was why I'd been assigned this four-seater taxi with two or more '8's on the license plate.
The very car I was now sitting in, barely holding back my nerves.
And then.
A long-haired silhouette peered through the windshield from the dark outside.
It... was peering at the license plate, head bowed low.
"...!"
I fought to keep my hands steady on the wheel, acting calm and nonchalant.
The long-haired figure staggered oddly to the passenger side.
And knocked on the door.
Tap, tap.
I unlocked the door.
A person in faded summer clothes unfit for the weather boarded, face mostly hidden by long hair.
They muttered as they entered.
"To the Limbs and Flesh Communal Cemetery, please..."
Thud.
The passenger door closed.
"Got it."
"Nice plate number. The numbers... good eight eight eight eight eight eight eight eight good eight eight eight eight."
I nearly fainted.
"I see."
I stayed as calm as possible and punched it into the navigation.
Limbs, Flesh... Cemetery.
-Search found.
The bizarre name that shouldn't exist popped up, and the nav began guiding.
-Estimated arrival: 4:04.
"......"
Two hours.
I barely pressed the pedal.
The car pulled out, leaving Express Bus Terminal Station behind...
Vroom...
Only the engine sound remained in the car.
Now, two hours trapped in this cramped space with the ghost.
Without crashing.
"......"
"......"
A strange chill filled the car.
The air freshener gypsum on the dash shook, emitting not floral but burning incense.
Suffocating silence.
-Turn left in 200m.
My hands twitched on the wheel.
Even the navigation's emotionless voice sent chills down my spine.
"......"
I did my best not to panic, so I avoided looking beside me.
But not looking made it scarier. Sweat slicked my hands; the dark road ahead blurred.
Better to look! Not seeing lets imagination and suffocation torment me more.
'Wait, hold on.'
"......"
I glanced at the passenger seat. The long-haired woman sitting quietly there...
Her head was twisted around.
"It's... suffocating."
I stared at the wheel.
"Feels like something's chasing us from behind!"
I fixed my gaze forward.
Cold sweat trickled down my neck, replaying the image: head fully twisted, face pressed into the headrest, only the black-haired occiput visible...
"Hey! Driver, hey, something's chasing us from behind! Look back, look!"