Chapter 96
Chapter 96
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 96
Chapter Title: The Ghost Story Taxi Calls for Us
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The ghost story taxi was calling for us.
From beyond the gate.
Beep beep.
If we just got in that thing and followed the manual to the letter, we could definitely make it to Seoul Station...
The problem was how to board that taxi.
'It's parked right outside this shop's gate.'
That was the reason we'd sought out a shop with a gate in the first place. The alleys of Death Squad Alley were too narrow for a taxi to pull up.
'So, to call a taxi and get in, we have to step out beyond the gate...'
But what kind of scene might unfold once we stepped outside the gate, and whether Squad Leader Lee Jaheon and I could emerge unscathed from it—that, I couldn't guarantee.
So we'd prepared countermeasures of our own.
Using an item from this very shop.
'I was planning to drop by anyway, and since this place had a gate too, I killed two birds with one stone.'
I swallowed hard.
"Squad Leader, stick to the plan, please."
"Yes."
Squad Leader Lee Jaheon reached into the paper bag he'd been holding and ripped the packaging away in an instant.
Out came a pair of cozy socks, along with the bonus item tucked inside.
A small ball of yarn.
True to the handmade shop's style, it seemed like they'd added extra yarn for patching the socks, but we'd be using it a bit differently.
"Let's begin."
I avoided the shopkeeper's eyes and unraveled one end of the red yarn, tying it firmly to the leg of a display case in the shop.
Then I split the yarn ball evenly between Squad Leader Lee Jaheon and me.
It would restrict our movements a bit, but it was still safer for both of us to hold the yarn directly.
"Let's go."
"Yes."
I slowly unspooled the yarn while walking backward, my back to the frosted glass door...
And the moment my back touched the glass door, I groped downward and grabbed the handle.
Click.
I pushed the handle, and a gust of wind rushed in from outside.
Along with the raw honk of a horn.
Don't look back.
I matched my steps with Squad Leader Lee Jaheon's and slowly backed away.
Thankfully, I had a 'good friend' to be my eyes.
...Pedestrians? No, don't think about it.
I kept my gaze fixed inside the shop, not looking at the dark surroundings, and continued backing away.
The yarn dangling from the shop connected me to 'Death Squad Alley'...
In a manner of speaking, it was a lifeline.
'As long as we're holding onto this, we're not missing persons!'
Slowly, slowly. No rushing as we retreat...
Thud.
Something touched my body.
...The taxi.
The body of the car vibrated through me with the repeated honk.
Cautiously, I reached back and felt the smooth surface of the car...
I adjusted my hand. I felt a smooth indentation.
'Door handle.'
I grabbed the car door handle and pulled.
And just like that, I scrambled into the taxi, curling up my body.
There was no time to appreciate the modern, pristine interior. I glanced under the seat as I slid to the side, and Squad Leader Lee Jaheon immediately filled the empty spot beside me.
At the same time, we tossed aside the remaining yarn balls and slammed the door shut.
His immense strength made every motion instantaneous.
Slam.
"......"
I finally lifted my head.
And addressed the taxi driver in the front seat—a man in an impeccably tailored suit and cap, bizarrely neat and prim.
"To Seoul Station, please."
......
The car pulled smoothly away.
'Phew.'
I leaned deeply into the backrest and let out a sigh of relief.
We'd done it, for now!
'Ghost story transfer... success.'
Of course, this taxi was a ghost story in its own right, so I couldn't let my guard down.
I quickly recalled the relevant wiki entry.
The infamous 'Hell-Fare Taxi,' a ghost story whose name alone screamed trouble with the payment.
The taxi's exterior is typically described as a black luxury German sedan.
The model varies with each call, but it's identifiable by the crimson taxi sign and the inverted golden cross ornament on the front mirror.
I glanced at the driver's seat.
...An ominous golden inverted cross dangled from the front mirror, swaying.
Confirmed.
'Phew.'
Even though everything was going to plan, tension crept up my spine.
Maybe because we were trapped in this confined space of a taxi. The pressure of being locked into a scary story where escape was impossible no matter what happened...
Tick tock tick tock.
The meter climbed.
Fast.
"Driver."
I had to start talking right away.
And when the meter rises...
Yeah.
This taxi didn't collect cash fares—it dispensed curses.
To be precise, not curses per se, but 'supernaturally induced misfortunes,' which made it all the creepier.
However, if the driver maintained steady interest in the passenger and drove slowly, the meter rose slowly, and the 'curse' ended up being something the passenger could bear.
The opposite case...
'You step out of a madly speeding taxi and get hit with a curse you can't handle.'
Plus, a fast taxi didn't mean early arrival.
My allotted time: 43 minutes.
I had to keep the driver's interest steadily for that entire stretch.
'Higher speeds increase the odds of anomalies inside the car, like windows shattering... or so they say.'
No desire to experience that firsthand.
Still, since I'd read the records, didn't I know what topics would pique the driver's interest?
True enough.
The issue? There were four possible 'drivers'!
Identical in appearance, impossible to distinguish visually. Ask outright which number they are, and they'll get offended and kick you out.
'And those kicked out go missing...'
So, the only way to figure it out was through conversation.
The standard strategy started by figuring out which driver it was as quickly as possible through initial conversation.
But.
With this much exploration record knowledge in my head, I could try something else.
A way to exit this taxi in the best possible shape.
"......"
The first question had already begun.
A subtly mocking, arrogant voice emanated from the driver up front...
"Just worked."
The driver never outright states preferences for passenger chatter—he only asks questions.
But the meter responds.
It's surging.
'I'm good.'
The expected result. I quickly and curtly tacked on the next line.
"But I nearly died on the job."
It halted.
"I went to buy meat at a butcher shop and almost ended up as the meat myself."
The meter stopped.
"Luckily, the shopkeeper was a vegetarian. I traded produce and got out. Even won the haggle and pocketed some cash."
The driver's fingers slowed on the steering wheel.
...The car slowed.
Phew.
"Headed down a back alley."
'It worked.'
What was I doing?
'Weaving as many correct keywords into my answers as possible.'
No matter which driver was sitting up there, it'd catch their interest.
The 'one of these has to be your thing' strategy.
And conveniently, my recent experiences let me naturally pull in all sorts of stimulating topics.
'I've been through more than my share of ups and downs these past six months.'
Topics weren't drying up easily.
"Planning to rest and sort through everything that's happened. It's been a wild ride."
No matter what question the taxi driver threw at me, I steered it back to my stimulating, story-rich experiences.
And kept weaving them in.
Nightmares, food shortages, blood, violence, survival of the fittest, mascots, cooking, fortune-telling, ghosts...
All melted seamlessly into everyday chatter.
In the end, the car crawled forward at bicycle speed.
I kept talking endlessly. Brown was impressed multiple times—it was pure audio filler.
And just as my throat was about to give out...
The taxi came to a stop.
...Click.
The rear door unlocked. The tinted window rolled down, revealing a familiar sight...
The night view of Seoul Station.
'Ha...!'
It was so welcoming I could cry.
I wanted to bolt out immediately, but settlement came first.
I checked the meter.
Click.
The driver ended the meter.
'We did it...!'
Ending in the 20,000s was only possible for trips under 10 minutes.
This level meant no permanent damage.
The taxi driver extended a hand behind him.
In it was a check.
I carefully took the old-fashioned paper check, stamped with a snake-shaped wax seal...
The back explained it.
The code for the curse the passenger would receive.
Good.
'Very manageable.'
Way better than catastrophic financial ruin or dead loved ones.
"Thank you."
I pocketed the check, bowed deeply to the driver's seat, and finally escaped the taxi.
'Ha.'
Winter air had never felt so good...
Tap tap.
"...!"
The driver's window rolled down halfway.
I nearly fainted.
"Yes."
A gloved hand gripped the wheel in the darkness, tapping fingers lightly...
I swallowed.
...Did he catch on?
Truth be told, this taxi's drivers had a very clear, famous motif.
The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.
Conquest, War, Famine, and Death working literal end-times taxi shifts—a punny ghost story.
Basing the current situation on that... that line made cold sweat pour.
But I could nod calmly.
"Yes."
The Horsemen of the Apocalypse couldn't retire until the end of the world!
I'd be long gone by then.
"If the chance arises, sure. Fighting for the rest of your shift, then."
The taxi window rolled back up.
The black vehicle vanished from Seoul Station like a ghost in an instant.
Leaving only the crimson taxi sign behind.
"......"
I looked at the negative check in my hand.
At that moment.
The check burst into flames, and the hemoptysis began.
"Cough."
High fever and headache scorched my skull, but it was bearable.
And the Lizard was staring at me in that state.
Blood dripping from his own jaws, too.
'Ugh.'
Not a pretty sight, but no helping it. I swallowed the bloody saliva and said,
"Th-this'll clear up in three days. That's... the rule, I think."
"Yes."
"And thank you. For not prying how I knew, and for trusting me in the taxi. Cough,"
The Lizard eyed me coughing up blood.
"Kim Sol-eum."
"Yes?"
"Take sick leave."
"Yes..."
A bit later.
We waited until the bleeding eased, then called another taxi and made it back to the company dorms.
Taking another taxi felt iffy, but no other anomalies occurred, and aside from the raging fever, Squad Leader Lee Jaheon and I returned safely.
'Who knew Squad Leader Lee Jaheon lived in the dorms too.'
Anyway, we parted in front of the building.
"Take sick leave."
"Yes... Thank you."
More details could wait for the office.
'Phew.'
And so...
I made it back safely.
'Even dorms beat nothing like home.'
Opening the door let in the cozy warmth of the heated interior. It was almost euphoric.
Sick as I was, I just wanted a hot shower and deep sleep, but...
Well, one more thing to do.
'Heh.'
I checked the shoes at the entryway that weren't mine.
Baek Saheon's dress shoes.