Chapter 28
Chapter 28
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 28
Chapter Title: The Day I Died
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...This time, entering a ghost story with A Squad. Let's figure out what I need to watch out for.
Conditions
1. Can't let them find out I'm a coward.
2. Can't let them find out I know the strategy in advance.
3. Survive the uncooperative squad leader's workplace bullying.
'Just kill me.'
This is probably the phrase I've muttered to myself the most since joining the company.
But there's no helping it.
Going into a ghost story with a boss who wants me dead is a first for me!
'Every day is a fresh hell...'
And the last one is a workaholic boss who would toss me to the cleanup team the moment he realizes I'm a coward...
In short, I've entered a ghost story with nothing but people who will sabotage my survival.
'Looks like the only answer is to desperately collect points and use a Wish Grant to escape this place.'
On top of that, the ghost story we've entered is one that confuses people to no end.
"What do you think of the space?"
"...Abandoned factory, it seems."
A dark abandoned factory reeking of oil.
Do you know how many ghost stories in [Darkness Exploration Records] feature abandoned factories? At least dozens.
And there are even more where the space randomly changes to an abandoned factory among others!
I was planning to quickly input the identification code into [Darkness Exploration Records] and search as soon as I separated from the two A Squad members, but they haven't given me a single moment alone.
'Th-they're staring at me like they're surveilling me.'
As if waiting for me to slip up, the two A Squad bosses were glancing at me while slowly moving their feet...
Cold sweat drips down.
'Not a single cooperative companion...'
"...!"
I snapped my head down.
Words were coming from the keyring in my pocket, 'Good Friend'.
Brown!
'There you are, a cooperative partner!'
Wait a sec. With two A Squad bosses right next to me, if you speak so openly...
Phew.
So others can't hear it.
'Come to think of it, yeah, records said it only talks to the owner among "close friends".'
And it can keenly read the opponent's mood or surface thoughts.
A bit relieved, I patted my pocket.
Tears well up.
This situation where a monster from a ghost story is my emotional refuge...
"Squad Leader. I see a door over there."
"Yeah. Sol-eum, why don't you open it."
"......"
"Sol-eum?"
"Yes."
I walked straight to the rusted door ahead, swallowing a scream.
Not giving a manual and specifically picking me? They're not even hiding the bullying!
Shake shake.
I subtly shook my head without being noticed.
Shake shake.
That's right.
It's really tough. This filthy ghost story world, and the workplace bullying...
Shake shake shake shake shake.
My stomach starts to hurt.
'Even have to keep the stuffed doll from going berserk by maintaining balance.'
Is this right?
Suffering between fear and stomach pain, I barely gripped the iron door handle without trembling.
Screeech.
The rusted iron door opened, revealing... the factory workshop area.
Operations halted, filled with dusty cans and boxes. Rotten contents oozed from broken beef cans.
But something more intense assaulted the senses.
The nose-stinging smell of iron.
And... a corpse slumped on the floor.
"......"
Wait a minute.
"See that? There's a corpse over there."
"...Yes."
"Sol-eum, go check it out."
"Yes."
Aaaaaah!!
The only reason I didn't collapse and wail was the comforting warmth from the keyring doll, and admitting that to myself is utterly humiliating.
'Abandoned factory... corpse, abandoned factory, corpse...'
I rifled through the [Darkness Exploration Records] wiki in my head and barely approached the corpse without screaming.
The corpse was sprawled over the rails in a suit.
An adult male bleeding from the back of the head.
He looked familiar because he was my age and wearing a suit.
'I'm going crazy.'
I absolutely can't touch it directly...! Holding my breath, I summoned my dedicated equipment in one go and remotely examined the corpse from all angles.
Thank god it only transmits pain, not tactile sensation. Really, really a relief.
"...Male, late 170s to early 180s cm, wearing a suit, bleeding only from the back of the head. Looks like struck hard by something over 10 cm in diameter."
"Hm. Not bad. Now flip it over."
"Yes."
Kim Sol-eum will remember this day...
Gathering all my inner strength, I glared at the A Squad leader while suppressing nausea and barely flipped the corpse.
The closed-eyed face came into view.
It was...
My own face, bleeding.
"......"
Fuck, fuck!!
Ah, these goddamn ghost stories!!
"Oh, looks just like you, Sol-eum. A trap?"
"Squad Leader, shouldn't you at least give me the basic manual by now...?"
"Ah, right. Makes sense."
The A Squad leader eyed me appraisingly, then slowly spoke as if bestowing a favor.
"Sol-eum, this is inside a story."
"......"
"Think of it as entering a novel or movie and move accordingly."
I already knew that.
I realized it the moment I saw my corpse.
What darkness this is.
Really the perfect ghost story to induce schizophrenia.
'This is... potato, potato.'
I desperately brainwashed myself, trying to tear my gaze from the corpse-shaped thing...
"Don't use dedicated equipment. Check it directly. Examine every nook and cranny closely..."
Are you kidding?
"No."
I answered without breathing.
Behind the teal teal duck mask, my eyes narrowed.
"...Hm?"
Oh, crap.
Already in a workplace bullying situation, talking back to a pissed-off boss?
'N-need to salvage this!'
I naturally added words according to instinct this time too.
...The repertoire verified once before.
"There's a faster way to escape."
Again?
This direction again...!
A work condition has been added.
Conditions
1. Can't let them find out I'm a coward.
2. Can't let them find out I know the strategy in advance.
3. Survive the uncooperative squad leader's workplace bullying.
4. Time attack. (new!)
...Still, the silver lining is that seeing my corpse let me identify exactly what ghost story this is.
'And the standard strategy for this ghost story is... this.'
The more you explore the space in this ghost story, time rewinds to the past.
Normally, you'd have to scour the entire factory, deduce step by step why 'my corpse' died, analyzing the process.
Chased by time, a desperate half-day pursuit to evade one confirmed kill...
'Hm. My stomach will melt first.'
My digestive system won't hold up.
No shortcut? Make one. Help me, Exploration Records!
With 25 records, there must be weird, irregular ones where creators broke from mannerisms for hints!
I flipped through the records in my head.
'Let's see, unique experiences worth referencing...'
Oh.
"Section Chief, Deputy. Can you give me 10 minutes?"
"Mm, sure."
For now, don't give the bosses any chance to step in.
Who knows what interference from workplace bullying; dirty as it is, I have to do it...
'...Before I puke and scream.'
I used dedicated equipment to quickly recheck the shape of the caved-in back of the sticky corpse head (uaaaah). Checked the corpse's footprints and surrounding bloodstains too...
"Why use dedicated equipment instead of your hands?"
"Because grabbing directly with my hands could damage evidence. I thought this was right for scene preservation."
I didn't know I had a talent for rapid-fire rap.
"Evidence? Talking like a mystery novel."
"Not quite deduction, just simple speculation. And..."
I stood up.
"Found it."
"Huh?"
"The answer."
I immediately searched the surroundings. Remotely, of course, with dedicated equipment.
Let's see.
Cleverly hidden in shadows but not fully obscured, easy to overlook...
'Got it.'
I pulled out a cylindrical object from under the shelf, in the musty corner.
"That's... a canned goods tin?"
"Yes."
"Hm, place is full of canned tins?"
Yeah. Seems like a canned goods abandoned factory.
But there's a difference.
On the can I lifted, bloodstains on the slightly dented edge.
'The lamp is darkest underneath' cliché.
Right.
"Matches the size of the groove from the occipital trauma."
Yeah yeah.
Anyway, even the A Squad deputy nodded in immediate understanding.
"So that must be the murder weapon..."
Thud.
I dropped the 'murder weapon' candidate can on the floor.
Then kicked it hard.
"...??"
"...????"
"Ah."
I tilted my head.
"No way a human occiput would shatter from this force... Hm. Weird. Doesn't add up."
Rumble.
For a moment, the space shook faintly.
That's what I'm saying.
I nodded as if just realizing.
"Ah... this can is aluminum."
"So?"
"Normal cans are made of steel."
He frowned.
"Why use aluminum like for soda cans in a food can...? Hm, no way..."
Deliberately pausing a beat, I said,
"Historical inaccuracy?"
Crack.
At that moment, the cans around me began to tremble faintly.
But ignoring it, I continued muttering.
"Could be. People encounter soda cans more often than food cans, so unconsciously thinking of soda cans and mistakenly noting aluminum material..."
But.
I stopped and let out a hollow laugh.
"Nah, no way."
"...Sol-eum?"
"Anyone can search and find it, no way they'd make a story that sloppy. The core of deduction genre is the trick; they're not idiots."
"Think about it: murder by canned goods in a canning factory? Too obvious a structure."
This was a bit sincere.
"No freshness, no twist... No way a writer would call this a 'trick' of their own. Not a sensible creator."
The space began to shake violently.
"Honestly, it's so awful..."
I concluded in an indifferent tone.
"These days, even amateurs wouldn't write something like this."
BOOM.
After silence.
Boom boom boom boom!!
Canned tins exploded from all directions.
"Wh-what?!"
Struck spaces melted like eyes streaming tears.
And vanished.
Just before everything disappeared, a pitiful sobbing wail echoed from someone...
And the next moment,
We stood in the company's 15th-floor luxurious reception room.
Covered in canned contents.
"......"
"......"
"We... out."
The A Squad leader stuttered, losing composure for the first time.
"The darkness let us go... why?"
I wiped beef can remnants from my face and quietly answered.
"Its mentality broke."
After escaping the ghost story with my corpse.
After washing off the beef can contents covering our bodies in the office shower, we gathered in the reception room again.
"Really... speedy clear without a manual, just as the rumors said."
"You're too kind."
"Not humility in a time like this, Sol-eum."
Confirming the yellow solution filling the Dream Essence Collector normally, the A Squad leader turned to me.
Admiration in his eyes.
"How did you arrive at this result?"
Yes. Knew you'd ask.
I clasped hands behind my back, striking a poised presenter's pose.
Defense against renewed workplace bullying nitpicking.
"Went through standard deduction process."
"Hm."
"First... kept making me observe the corpse and surroundings, so I guessed the corpse is key to escape."
Of course, probably just to torment me, but words can be spun.
"And you said it's a story, so a tale where someone becomes the corpse... i.e., movie or novel about a murder. Guessed standard clear is preventing my death."
I shrugged.
"But that takes too long."
"...?!"
"You went out of your way to call me, so wanted to resolve by morning if possible."
A Squad leader giving me a 'what crazy talk, newbie' look.
But Section Chief would prefer crazy over coward too!
"So found a shortcut."
"How?"
"Had a hint."
I looked at both.
"Your actions."
"...!"
"You two read the manual. So kept giving behavioral clues."
Like prompting corpse observation.
'If intentional hints, then unintentional ones too.'
I recalled the most decisive part.
"Entered darkness, yet you called my real name."
"...!"
Normally, in ghost stories, definite guideline not to use real names, use mask nicknames.
Could be exploited badly.
Yet A Squad leader called me 'Sol-eum', not 'Deer'.
If veterans from elite team did that, one reason.
They already knew it was fine.
"Means no intelligent entity in this darkness that can harm me upon hearing my real name."
Also meant no supernatural interference besides my already-occurred death.
After explaining that, I continued.
"Widened room to maneuver... so thought, why not attack the story itself aggressively to dismantle it."
"...??"
"...You thought that?"
"Yes. A story loses meaning if foundation crumbles."
I nodded.
"So criticized plausibility to collapse and escape. That's it."
"......"
"......"
Bosses' faces somehow blank.
"...Not just environment, but inferred from our talks and actions...?"
"Yes."
Lie.
Actually benchmarked exploration records.
Mental broke from mere mocking of a memed flop, reconstructing the work.
So, systematically point out inaccuracies, crush creator pride—won't new work or whatever vanish?
'And it worked.'
Yahoo.
But A Squad leader looked at me, slowly spoke.
"You say it... awfully easily, Sol-eum."
Oh no.
"O-of course, not standard method. Could call it a cheat."
Did I offend?
Laid groundwork diligently. Bowed penitently.
This should look real?
"Still, gladly accept reprimand."
Yes. Please curse and end it.
I meekly awaited workplace bullying mark 2.
But...
Clap clap clap...
Applause.
Lifting head, A Squad leader maskless, eyes shining with surprise and satisfaction.
"Follows rules and orders. But doesn't stint on means or methods."
Yes?
"Perfect. Exactly our ideal talent."
Me?
"Sol-eum. You're in."
"What,"
"A spot opened in A Squad?"
Realized then.
'Ah.'
Not workplace bullying.
A test.
"Fill that spot officially, Sol-eum."
"...!!"
My god.
This was an A Squad scout!