Chapter 216
Chapter 216
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 216
Chapter Title: Even If I Fall into a Ghost Story, I Still Have to Go to Work
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A dull mind gazes at the darkness before its eyes and thinks...
A ghost story of the Nameless Radiant Church, deleted from the wiki.
Yet it exists here. That's...
'...Because it exists even as a deletion record?'
Those that had been registered on the wiki after meeting the recommendation threshold but later deleted for failing to meet listing criteria could still be found under "Deleted Ghost Stories."
So then...
Is this ghost story truly a power created by the Nameless Radiant Church?
Or, since it was deleted for "insufficient connection to the Nameless Radiant Church," is it something separate?
......What kind of world is this, the one that called me into this bizarre body......
Confusion spreads through the crumbling brain, slow and sluggish.
The smoke wavers.
"...You okay?"
A voice calls out.
It's the one wearing the Badger mask.
I can feel eyes peering in from outside the bathroom.
He seems to want to talk.
However, I need to make a judgment.
So, if a ghost story that might be affiliated with the Nameless Radiant Church falls into the hands of Daydream Corporation, what effects or side effects might that have...
....
....
Does that matter?
It doesn't.
Pondering the origins, fundamentals, and contradictions of the ghost story is meaningless to me. My assigned task is solely to carry out my duties.
That is the purpose of my employment contract. Nothing else is necessary.
I have one job.
Determining whether this darkness is suitable for Daydream Corporation's Dream Essence production.
Three criteria.
1. Capable of Dream Essence collection through clearing.
2. Survival return probability can be increased based on the manual.
The meaningful clear method is probably enduring without ever touching the rainwater until the rain stops.
Hallucination on a Rainy Day.
Since this ghost story originates from temptation rather than direct slaughter or violence, simply barricading the door and protecting one's mind should offer a survival chance.
Once exploration records accumulate, behavioral patterns might be inferred.
'Criteria 1 and 2 met.'
And the final third condition.
3. Easy to isolate or store.
......
I peered into the bathtub filled with rainwater and slowly tapped my chin with a finger.
I assessed it.
And reached a conclusion.
Conditions Met
Suitable Darkness
I carried out my duties.
"Deer? Right now...?"
I covered the rainwater in the bathtub with mist.
What was hidden by the mist would now regain its original form.
By deleting unnecessary descriptions and records.
Back to its true essence.
Rainwater Spirit - Echo
An entity that manifests on rainy days, luring victims toward stagnant puddles and drains by perfectly mimicking the voices and appearances of those it has previously consumed.
Its deception extends beyond mere auditory hallucinations; it utilizes letters, hastily scrawled notes, and even crude drawings to distort the very concept of "communication," expanding its deceptive reach in agonizingly creative ways.
By forcing its victims into a manufactured dilemma—demanding they choose which voice or message to trust—it mimics the classic binary-choice horror trope. In reality, however, the choice is an illusion. Every option is a fatal trap designed to secure their doom.
It cruelly manipulates human psychology, feeding on the desperate hope that making the 'right' choice will lead to salvation.
Aaaah!
Agonizing screams and desperate pleas suddenly erupted from the depths of the bathtub, reverberating violently off the tiled walls.
It was the cacophony of existences that had been systematically erased. The residual echoes of countless victims.
Over an untold period of time, this anomaly had refined its hunting methodology, evolving far beyond simple superstition into something horrifyingly sophisticated.
'It weaponized doubt.'
The deceased became fresh bait. By weaving truth and falsehood into seemingly plausible scenarios, the entity paralyzed its prey with indecision.
Disguise. Imitate. A masterful, two-way deception.
Listen to one side, and doubt creeps in. Listen to the other, and the paranoia deepens.
And by the time the victim realized the sheer impossibility of the situation, it was already too late. Stripped of their mental fortitude, the prey would inevitably break, blindly choosing a path that led straight into the murky water.
This time, the lure had merely taken the form of a couple's child, using a sketchbook and clumsy handwriting as the anchor.
But the masquerade was over.
Smothered beneath my dense smoke, the anomalous rainwater began to violently regurgitate the remains it had swallowed.
Endlessly.
Thud.
Squelch... Thump.
The sickening sound of waterlogged corpses spilling over the porcelain rim and hitting the floor echoed through the bathroom.
The white tiles were rapidly disappearing beneath a tangle of bloated, lifeless bodies.
They simply kept piling up.
I maintained my mechanical rhythm—shrouding the water, forcing the expulsion, and repeating the cycle until my mist finally began to thin.
Stripped of its stolen mass, the malignant puddle boiled furiously, instantly vaporizing into nothingness.
Deleted.
I broke it down until it was entirely devoid of identity. Until it was as fractured and hollow as I was.
Until it was damaged beyond any hope of restoration.
"D-Deer!"
...!
"Deer, that's enough!"
......
I smoothly inhaled, drawing the smoke back into myself.
Behind me, the ragged breathing of the Badger-masked agent broke the silence.
"...Sorry."
An apology was unnecessary.
He was right to intervene. If a ghost story was completely stripped of its underlying identity, it became utterly useless to Daydream Corporation as harvestable 'darkness.'
As the smoke settled back into my collapsing form, patching the void within me, I noticed the Badger mask's gaze. His eyes, visible through the eyeholes, were trembling violently as he stared at the mountain of human remains.
"...How... How on earth did you manage to do this?"
I didn't know.
Nor did I possess the desire to find out.
The only thing that mattered was executing the next phase of the operation.
Preparing the mobile containment unit.
......
The agent in the gas mask wordlessly hauled the heavy, steel isolation cabinet into the bathroom.
I quickly calculated the volume, ensuring there was adequate space for the specific asset I needed to extract.
Then...
As I reached into the porcelain tub, the residual dampness clung to my unnatural fingers, sending a brief, meaningless flicker of dread through my mind.
I ignored it, mechanically lifting the tub—still containing the neutralized, condensed essence of the rainwater—and shoving it into the containment unit.
Clang.
The heavy iron doors slammed shut, sealing the anomaly away.
"...Containment confirmed."
The task was complete. All that remained was wheeling the cabinet out of the residence.
......
A profound, undisturbed silence settled over the house.
Rain continued to patter gently against the windowpanes, but the oppressive, melancholic dread that had saturated the air was entirely gone.
It was just rain now. Nothing more.
"...Ah."
The Daydream sales team employee, who had been trembling under the security team leader's watch, visibly registered the shift in the atmosphere.
A fragile bloom of hope spread across his pale face.
"Is it... is it finally over?"
Confirmed.
"Haa..."
The man slumped against the wall, this time weeping not from terror, but from sheer relief.
Shortly after, the lanterns strung up around the interior flickered back to life, casting a warm, steady glow.
The house looked perfectly mundane. As if the nightmare had never taken place.
"We will now withdraw," the security team leader announced, relaying through the comms that the zone had been entirely cleared of anomalous activity.
The sales employee shakily pushed himself to his feet, offering a weak, grateful smile.
"Thank you... truly, thank you."
His gratitude was misplaced.
There was still one final procedural step.
The settlement of costs.
"...Excuse me?"
Because in this corporation, salvation was never free.
[Settlement finalized.]
[The calculated fee will now be applied to the caller's account.]
"...?"
The salesman blinked in utter bewilderment at the automated voice echoing from his deceased supervisor's discarded radio.
"...Wait, um... exactly how much is this going to cost?"
[A designated collection manager will be dispatched shortly.]
[Commencing in 30 seconds...]
"H-Hold on! Hey, what does that mean?!"
Suddenly—
A cold realization pierced through my dulled cognition.
Anyone who repeatedly visited this specific house on rainy days was practically guaranteed to be ensnared by the ghost story, just like this man's deceased boss.
So...
Was it possible that Daydream Corporation had been ignorant of this fact?
Did they truly not realize that the couple purchasing their 'special potions' had long since been digested and assimilated into the local horror?
That they were simply feeding their own sales staff directly into the maw of an anomaly?
Did it matter?
Perhaps it didn't—so long as the final payment was secured.
Or perhaps... securing that payment was the entire point of the operation from the start.
......
Regardless, the ethics of the situation fell entirely outside the jurisdiction of the security team.
"...We're moving out."
"Wait... Please, hey...!"
We left him behind, stepping back into the dreary embrace of the company's wireless signal.
I was guided to the transfer sector and descended deep into the subterranean isolation vaults beneath the main facility.
Yet, the lingering image of that salesman's face refused to fade—the exact moment his tearful relief warped into dawning horror.
It felt like watching a mosaic painfully shatter into jagged fragments.
***
"This is phenomenal! This is exactly the caliber of talent our organization has been thirsting for! Honestly—should we just start referring to you as a deity? Haha!"
"I never imagined you'd suppress the target with such brutal efficiency!"
Excited chatter bounced off the walls of the debriefing room.
Researcher Kwak Je-gang, tasked with processing my operational report, was practically vibrating with glee as he flipped through the paperwork.
"Let's look at the grading... Hmm... This easily clears a D-rank. Frankly, I wouldn't be shocked if command bumps it to a C. This specific breed of darkness is an absolute goldmine for farming diverse exploration records."
"It's a textbook rainy-day auditory hallucination!"
......
"Well, I suppose the two security escorts ought to be thanking our new star employee here, right?"
"Ah, it brings back memories! Playing the role of the field investigation unit is always a thrilling change of pace!"
Standing nearby, the agent in the Badger mask quietly opened and closed his fists, silently absorbing the researcher's boisterous praise.
......
I slid the final tally of neutralized assets across the desk to the researcher.
Then, I initiated a query.
"Oh? By all means, ask away—"
Query: The specific nature of the cost levied against the caller.
The room went still for a fraction of a second.
"...You're genuinely curious about that?"
The researcher's tone shifted, softening with what sounded like pleasant surprise.
"I'm more than happy to explain. It's just... this marks the very first time you've inquired about something outside the strict parameters of your immediate duties. Are you certain there isn't something more... personal you'd like to ask?"
"Anything at all..."
He leaned in, his eyes gleaming with the hope that I was finally exhibiting a spark of human curiosity.
"...Why not ask something a bit lighter? We don't have to talk shop 24/7!"
......
I rigidly maintained my initial line of questioning.
Cost inquiry: Strictly operational.
Primary concern: Issues regarding logistical efficiency.
"...Excuse me?"
Clarification: Evaluating how the overall business performance metrics fluctuate based on the payment method exacted.
Secondary concern: Assessing the probability of a caller becoming hostile or violently unpredictable upon learning the nature of the charge.
"...Right."
To eliminate any ambiguity, I provided a specific linguistic example.
Example phrase: 'Settle the account with monetary funds.'
A heavy silence hung in the air.
"...Ah."
"...I see. So that is the angle you were approaching it from..."
The researcher let out a dry, visibly disappointed chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Well... The truth is, the vast majority of our sales representatives are completely in the dark regarding the actual costs. Ignorance keeps them compliant, so they rarely ask."
"And nine times out of ten, the payment demanded isn't monetary."
"...It's labor."
......
"Given the circumstances, that particular caller will likely be reassigned to manually operate one of our provincial branch offices for a period of several years."
A branch office?
A localized outpost of Daydream Corporation—a vague, poorly defined setting that lacked any concrete documentation on the wiki.
"Honestly, it's not the worst fate, is it? Even I get a hazard allowance when they ship me out to the countryside."
For a fleeting second, a bizarre sensation—something akin to pity or a morbid curiosity—fluttered in the recesses of my mind.
But it was instantly snuffed out, crushed beneath the sheer weight of the mechanized, automated thought processes I had become shackled to.
The sharp chime signaling the end of my shift rang loudly in my skull.
—Your designated working hours have concluded. Your designated working hours have concluded. Your designated...
"...Oh my. Look at the time! Then I suppose I'll see you tomorrow, agent!"
The intercom clicked off.
The room descended into a suffocating silence.
***
I sat perfectly still on the edge of the mattress.
The mandatory training broadcasts had ceased. The space around me was utterly devoid of life—a sterile, manufactured replica of a company dormitory. There were books meticulously arranged on a shelf, and a sleek laptop sitting on the desk, but they were nothing more than elaborate props. Unusable.
I possessed no ability to interact with any of it.
I existed in a state of suspension until my next shift began.
Then, quietly—
Knock, knock.
...!
"Hey... Are you decent? Can I come in?"
I mechanically turned my gaze toward the heavy iron door.
Someone was waiting outside.
Not only were they waiting—the reinforced door smoothly glided open.
It was the security team.
Specifically, the squad leader in the Badger mask.
My team member.
"Apologies for the delay. Had to undergo standard decontamination first."
Out in the corridor, the rest of the security detail discreetly pulled the gate shut, leaving us alone.
But they didn't leave the area. They lingered just out of sight.
"...Listen."
He took a seat across from me.
Cradled in his arms was a thick, rectangular object.
"I formally requested authorization to bring this inside. The floor supervisor signed off on it, so... yeah, it's totally above board."
It was a book.
'12 Essential Reads for Young Adults.'
"...I just figured you might be going out of your mind with boredom in here."
......
I reached out and accepted the offering.
Through the small window in the door, I could vaguely sense the other agents smiling warmly.
"And, um... there's something else..."
His voice carried a slight, nervous tremor.
"I was wondering... Would it be alright if I just called you 'Deer' when we're off the clock?"
......
"You mentioned you were stepping into the supervisor role..."
"Yeah... I mean, as long as we aren't actively on a mission, it'd be nice to drop the formalities..."
......
Confirmed.
"...! Yes."
A soft, genuine laugh echoed from behind the badger mask.
He shifted closer, sitting beside me on the edge of the bed.
"...This was your first actual deployment as a member of the security detail. You did incredibly well out there, Deer."
......
His hand, moving on pure instinct to affectionately pat my head, froze awkwardly in midair.
Because there was nothing there to pat. No hair, no physical structure. Just shifting smoke and void.
......
I slowly raised both of my hands.
"Are you Deer?"
A dull, distant ache flared within my chest.
It was an emotion—a raw, clumsy desire that I hadn't experienced since the moment I signed that accursed contract.
It bubbled up from the darkest depths of my fractured mind.
I wanted to possess a tangible form. I wanted a body like theirs.
I wanted to share in that simple, physical camaraderie.
A desperate yearning gripped me: 'I want to try being like that again, too.'
"Whoa—hey!"
I frantically tried to mold the smoke cascading off me into a solid shape.
But I had no idea how.
Much like a man who had suddenly forgotten how to breathe, the state of simply 'existing' as a human now felt impossibly alien and far beyond my reach.
I pawed desperately at where my face should be—feeling nothing but exposed bone, synthetic rubber, and an empty silhouette... I didn't even have a throat. Even if I possessed the candy of nostalgia, I lacked the physical anatomy to consume it...
......
Nostalgia.
A request.
"Huh?"
"...What do you need? What kind of request?"
I forced the fractured concept into a coherent statement.
Request: Nostalgia Candy.
"...!!"
Outside the door, the loitering security team members bolted upright in unison.
They immediately grasped the gravity of what I was asking for.
"Wait—what? Squad Leader?!"
But the Badger mask was already in motion, throwing himself through the heavy iron door.
He returned with a speed that defied logic, seemingly bypassing security checkpoints and physical distance as if they were mere suggestions.
He held the fulfillment of my request in his hand.
"...Here."
A simple red string was dropped into my waiting palm—a hand comprised of nothing but protruding, skeletal digits.
Item: Nostalgia Candy.
It was the exact same artifact that had been utilized to salvage Park Min-sung, the director who had succumbed to severe contamination during the "Hungry Hangman" incident.
Effect:
Upon being worn, the item forcibly rewinds and restores the user's physical and psychological state to the absolute peak of health they possessed within the last decade.
The more severe the anomalous mutation, the more violently and rapidly the restoration takes effect.
I closed my skeletal fingers around the Nostalgia Candy.
And without a second thought, I wrapped the red string tightly around where my neck used to be.