Chapter 60
Chapter 60
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: Russian Roulette
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"The fear of possibly dying."
That might just be the essence of ghost stories.
Hell, I'd even experienced a government-managed disaster recently—one that theoretically required someone to die in order to clear it.
So, I've gotten pretty used to the explanation that "people usually die in ghost stories." Desensitized, even.
I've clawed my way through the eye of the needle somehow, after all.
-Let's find a way out first, even if it drives me insane.
That had become my baseline mindset, and the past few months had been more than enough time for it to set in.
But...
"It was originally a total wipeout. All missing. Only one decapitated corpse came back."
"......"
"But after repeating it a few times, someone got lucky and survived. We built the manual based on that person's testimony."
A textbook process for completing a high-grade darkness exploration manual.
"But no matter what we tried, there was one thing we could never change."
The one thing...
"One death."
"......"
"Mechanism for who gets picked? None. No logic. Pure random. We've run it thirty-seven times now, and no gear, no items—nothing made a difference."
"......"
"It designates you the moment you enter. No prep, no countermeasures."
This situation was bullshit.
Literally luck-based. I had a 1/12 chance of instant death.
...Including the squad, that was a ridiculous 1/3.
Someone just dies.
"You might be thinking, 'Why throw in competent guys like me when we could use disposable trash?'"
"No, sir."
"I heard you were."
"......"
"Can't be helped... But this damn urban legend demands a challenger with a sharp mind to clear it."
So we couldn't toss in sacrificial pawns either.
Deputy Manager Eun Ha-je smirked.
"An 8.3% death chance in a B-Grade? That's actually a decent average."
"......"
True.
Think about that exhibition ghost story.
No manual made it worse, but even with one complete, casualties were inevitable.
And yet.
"No matter what I do, being caught in that probability feels weirdly unfair."
"......"
Not weird at all.
Dying "just because" without a chance to fight back feels different from having some shot at it.
One's a challenge; the other's slaughter.
"...The three days—are they for mental prep?"
"Probably."
By then, your head cools, rationality kicks in, and hope creeps up.
"No way I draw the 1/12, right?"
"Deer, first time with a darkness like this?"
"......Yes."
"Go grab some coffee. Get me one too."
I took Deputy Manager Eun Ha-je's card and headed out, told I could "take my time."
Coffee run as an excuse, but really, rookie mental health check.
"This sucks."
Now I'm slumped on a cafe sofa, americano in front of me.
Fear...? Haven't not been scared since dropping here, so that's not it.
Just rattled.
"In this situation, info or whatever—it's meaningless."
Realizing I've operated with more "certainty" than other employees stirs a weird self-loathing.
And a sharp sense of crisis.
"......"
"Should I just quit?"
Quit now, find another way?
Investigate ghost stories solo based on [Darkness Exploration Records]?
-Hey, friend!
-How about switching to showbiz from now on?
What??
-Of course! I always have great gigs for friends... As the saying goes, what’s a good friend? Haha!
I nearly tumbled off the sofa in shock.
"Pass."
Woke me right up.
-Shame...
Yeah. Around here, that was a fate worse than death, and plenty of it.
Solo investigating? Something only an idiot forgetting they're a coward would do.
Quitting over 1/12 odds is dumb too.
"But sitting idle is dumber."
-Heading back in?
"Yeah."
Need to dig deeper into this ghost story first.
I grabbed takeout coffees for the squad, returned to the office, and scrolled the tablet PC.
And...
"...Ha."
Yup. Random.
It was a ghost story I already knew from [Darkness Exploration Records], but the problem? Nearly everything I'd read was already in the manual.
"No new info."
I didn't know anything others didn't.
"No gaps."
[Darkness Exploration Records] straight-up said "random upon explorer entry."
No exceptions, no loopholes. It wasn't even treated as big deal.
Writers probably glossed it as premise setup. People die in every ghost story anyway—nothing special.
And...
"Squad leaders excluded this run. Only deputies and below."
"......"
Squad Leader Lizard wasn't joining.
If a leader got picked, rank might confuse priorities on the fly.
"No cleanup or elite squads either. One went in once—disaster."
Elite—A, B, or C Squad—got picked, thrashed to survive, took others down. Unnecessary losses.
No regrets on D Squad, but this company’s consistent as hell.
"Thanks for the heads-up."
"No biggie."
The deputy seemed caught between resignation and irritation, finding solace in smokes. The junior chimed in; they headed upstairs cig in hand.
"Seen the roster? The ones going in with us..."
"Yeah, honestly? If one of them dies, I might skip the funeral. They didn't cherry-pick the worst personalities, did they?"
"Nah, not us!"
I kept cross-referencing [Darkness Exploration Records] and the manual, hunting gaps.
Tiny rule blanks.
But then.
That afternoon, a way around the rules appeared.
Sort of.
"Junior Kim!"
"Section Chief."
Section Chief Lee Byung-jin found me. Manual reviewer, coming here himself—not "passing by."
"I heard! You're going into that insane Russian roulette darkness?!"
"......"
Thought before: guy has a talent for pissing people off.
But he wasn't just hyping.
He lowered his voice, checked no one around, whispered.
"Talk to Director Ho."
"...!"
"He's been watching your exploits."
"You mean..."
I eyed the chief.
"If I ask the director, he'll pull me?"
"Exactly!"
"......"
"They usually pick fair and square... I'm against it. A bright young star like you, top of your class? Spare him!"
True loophole.
Upper brass pulls strings.
I opened my mouth.
"I'm good."
"Wh-what?"
Absolutely not.
"Too much spotlight."
Picking this? I'm picking a line in the company.
Ghost story corp execs aren't normies. Clinging in desperation like this? Bad look.
Plus, survival on the line.
"Get exempted, rumors fly instant."
Who'd see that kindly?
Slacker move.
Communities demand shared pain for full member status. Dodge it?
"Marked for life."
Field Exploration Team's 3-man cells make it a career-ender.
If director quietly pulls me, boasts privately? Maybe.
But this? Means I'm not "that" watched.
Or...
"Luck's part of skill."
Trap.
Gut said this response was right.
I played principled, deadpan.
"Exempting just me is favoritism. Company assigns like this for reasons—I'll do my duty."
"Uh-uh..."
Chief sputtered, asked "really?" a few times, then left convinced.
God...
Barely held back grabbing his pant leg, yelling yes...
"Character build-up's the win."
No other upside.
I bitterly watched him go, returned to my seat.
"Back to the manual."
But [Darkness Exploration Records], manual—same. No gaps.
No exceptions for any explorers.
"So every entrant played this sacrifice lottery..."
"......"
Hold up.
"This..."
Read it again. Multiple times.
"...Gap?"
Not sure.
"Possible."
But grab any shot now.
-Hit on something fun, Deer?
Not fun, but an idea.
"Make an exception."
-Hm?
Every explorer entering this ghost story got thrown into the 1/12 instant-death draw. No exceptions.
But... common condition they all shared?
One never bypassed.
-What condition?
......
"Being human."
Manual and [Darkness Exploration Records] all assume human explorers. No other lifeforms mentioned.
But this world's sapients aren't just humans.
Plants, animals—infinite options.
"What if non-human life skips the judgment?"
Trends in [Darkness Exploration Records] irregulars make this the likeliest exception now.
-Want to shed your humanity, Deer?
"N-not like that."
Wish that wasn't so trap-like.
"Just treated as non-human briefly."
Chose words careful.
"Like disguising as someone else on a show."
-Oho.
"...Can Brown do it too?"
-Of course!
Brown's voice brimmed with energy.
Like showtime.
-New identities are an entertainer's fate. I have countless masks... Ah. I could lend you one now!
Jackpot.
"Let's try."
"Phew."
I finally peeled eyes from manual, leaned back.
Right then, smoke break over—deputy and junior entered, waved at me.
"......"
Shit.
"Brown, that 'mask' ability... Can it cover multiples?"
-Multiples? Non-friends?
"Including me."
-...If I regain full power, yes. Studio held dozens! Hundreds?
...Good.
"Brown."
-My friend calls!
I patted my pocket politely.
"Bath time."
-...!?
-Deer, thanks but I'm no occult-addled celeb enjoying blood baths from friends.
"I know."
Quiz show host who burst guest heads, sure—but as "good friend," that's Brown.
No other way.
Hospital blood bags? Stale efficiency. Can't use others'.
Can't drag in ghost story monster again.
"Leftover ginseng? Lost whatever made it sapient."
Obvious what's left.
My blood.
I peered into the elegant plaid mini-tub.
Still clean, nice scent—from that alien shop.
Now fill with my blood.
"Probably can't give much. Half cup?"
About 180ml.
-Half cup! Tight, but for a cotton-stuffed bath bomb like me, not bad. Dilute in water... Wait, no. You sure?
Fine.
"I can do it."
Deep breath, gripped kitchen knife.
Company med room potion nearby for wounds.
"Hoo."
Stabbed upper blade into arm flesh.
-Good lord!
Blood gushed.
Hit artery right—spurted, overflowed.
Ha...
"Remember. Scary situations spook me—not blood itself..."
This isn't scary...!
Repeated to calm; soon, announced amount filled tub.
"Half cup easy."
But no stop.
-Deer?
More.
-Enough, friend!
More.
-Friend?
This much.
"Good."
Rushed company meds stanched it. Magic potion sealed artery fine.
Light head from loss, but no issue.
"Potion fixes."
Normal by ghost story drop in two days.
Key...
Tub wafting fragrant steam?
"Hoo..."
Peered in. Whoosh—scent hit nose.
Blood did its job.
"Pulled near 500ml."
Full bath bomb...
"...Wood smell?"
Scent evoked that damn ghost tree forest—unsettling—but better than foul.
Nodded, told Brown.
"Hop in. Scent okay?"
-Yes! Fun aroma. Like your unpredictable whims, Deer!
I smiled.
"Snark? More blood than warned?"
-Sarcasm's talk show host essential! But I don't whip it out anytime.
"Thanks for worrying."
-......
"I'll heal proper. Won't do again."
-Wise words at last, friend.
Really?
Honestly, deliberate.
Shock "good friend" now, build aversion to future blood baths.
Worked.
"Warned this amount? Might've accepted."
No.
"One and done."
Lifted Brown to tub, but refused again.
-I'll walk in proud on my own feet.
Fine, whatever.
Turned back to tub. Soon, footsteps, splashes—bath on.
Then moments later.
-Deer, this bath bomb you made...
-Unique, hmm!
What?