Container Box Blues and the Perfect Hard Counter
S-man was deep in thought. Was hiding inside this container box really the smart move? In hindsight, no, it wasn't a great idea.
"Open the door..."
"Just once... let me suck it just once..."
"Good smell, such a good smell...!"
If there was a novel titled something like "After Regressing, I Became an SSS-Class Idol in the Ghost World," he'd love a recommendation. At least then he could guess the plot twists ahead.
S-man was in a real bind, thanks to the things outside the container box—scratching at the walls, pounding relentlessly, letting out grotesque moans. He wasn't powerless; if he wanted, he could handle them. He had that magic wand from before, holy water too. Or he could fall back on the basic self-defense techniques he'd picked up in school.
The problem? These weren't your run-of-the-mill vengeful ghosts. "You're vulnerable to yin energy, so always stay cautious." That's what Yonghwa Seonnyeo had drilled into him until his ears bled. Vengeful ghosts were drenched in yin energy by nature, but the female ones were especially bad news for him. The second they spotted him, they'd go into heat like rabid dogs, lunging to possess him.
And it didn't stop there. Even if he beat them down with brute force, they'd cling like sticky sap, their grudges lingering to cause secondary hauntings. That's why he stuck to working with the male staff whenever possible. Places thick with yang energy made it harder for yin-heavy entities to slip in, or so he'd heard.
'But I didn't expect the male staff to already be possessed.'
The temp worker who'd come along for the short gig had split off to work with the female staff, which was the issue. His staff radio got smashed during the escape, and his smartphone was showing "out of service area"—no signal. By the time they'd entered the factory complex, everyone was already under the influence. Including him.
'No wonder that creepy chill wouldn't fade.'
S-man peered out through the semi-transparent glass window barred with iron grilles. One of the human-like figures prowling around the container seemed to sense him and slammed right up against the glass, banging furiously. Without those bars, it would've shattered the window and shoved its head right in.
"Little bro, let's do something fun with unnie..."
"Sorry, but I'm into younger ones."
"Oppa, I'll make you feel good..."
"I said younger, but I didn't say girl."
"Oppa..."
"But that's too gay. Nah, women it is."
"You fucking bastard."
S-man tap-danced in front of the window, clowning around to buy time.
"You getting pissed? Guess that makes me the piss-taker. Heh heh heh!"
"OPEN THE DOOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Clang clang clang clang clang!
"Not opening, huh? No way it's opening? Keep getting pissed?"
Thump-thump, thump-thump.
After a while of trading barbs with the thing at the window and scouting the outside, S-man suddenly realized something: the number of vengeful ghosts swarming him was surprisingly low. Listening closely to the pounding and moans surrounding the container, there were only about five or six at most.
Not to brag, but even with a guy's body, his overflowing yin energy made him pretty popular with ghosts. They said he matched well with them—got possessed easily, connected smoothly. Ghosts saw him less as "prey" and more as a "toy." When the chase started, he was too frantic to notice, but it was weird that so few had followed such an entertaining plaything.
Sure, deeper in the factory, there were way more appealing targets. Han Daeri and a bunch of shamans and occultists were crawling all over the place. But that made it even stranger that he'd been targeted from the start. Compared to them, he was a nobody.
After much deliberation, piecing together the situation and clues, S-man reached one conclusion. Whatever massive entity had taken root here was either desperate for "feed" after suffering a critical hit, or it had weak control over living humans from the get-go. The ghosts outside were only rampaging because they were possessing people; in pure spirit form, they'd have breached the container already.
'It's powerful, alright, but probably lacks control over this disjointed collective.'
S-man had dived deep into this field since starting the job. He'd studied cases, and "unity" was key. Take a cat that died resenting humans, turning into a yokai or evil spirit. It wouldn't know much about human souls or how to manipulate them—its life as a cat was its only experience. But cats? It knew cats inside out. Gathering grudge-filled cat souls to evolve into a stronger evil spirit? Easy. That's "unity."
Even living creatures struggle to mix if they're totally different—how much harder for completely alien spiritual beings?
'The incident at this factory... a woman fed up with society sabotaged a cosmetics machine on purpose, causing a malfunction, then killed herself here, right?'
Coincidentally, the production crew and cast visiting the factory grounds were all social butterflies. No grudges against society, no suicidal thoughts. They wouldn't mesh with whatever had settled here—like oil and water.
So its control was weak, and maybe it couldn't even digest what it'd swallowed in time.
"Damn, even I think I'm too smart. No wonder the boss keeps me around."
This inhuman brain that aced a top uni and S Group on the first try without a single miss—scary! He was certain he'd snag Employee of the Year at the Supernatural Phenomena Resolution Office. But that aside, he needed a way out of this mess.
How to resolve this incident? How to make it spread like wildfire as a success story?
'Who does a woman who hated society enough to off herself despise most? Social butterflies? Nah, too broad. Sure, she hates them, but...'
The entity here probably loathed social butterflies as much as society itself—just didn't like them, same deal. He needed to crunch the numbers more.
'Gotta be pretty face first, good figure, cute voice and mannerisms, young but not too young-looking. Mature, fresh, pitiful, adorable—all-in-one beauty.'
As he paced circles inside the container, racking his brain, S-man remembered there was exactly one girl in the world who fit those impossible specs.
"Gyeopsik!"
Turning twenty next year, still a student, but whether in uniform or casuals, she looked too mature to distinguish from adults. Yet she appeared younger than most "ageless" celebs. She had every feminine charm imaginable, no exaggeration.
The hard counter to whatever had devoured this factory? Gyeopsik.
That's why so few ghosts had chased him—he got it now. Human or spirit, nothing pulled aggro like Gyeopsik.
Bang!
S-man kicked open the container door and charged out. He jabbed both index fingers straight into the chest of the nearest writhing possessed body.
An ancient Chinese secret technique passed down for effectively subduing foes despite human frailty: acupoint strikes. Wuxia novels were full of protagonists tapping pressure points to paralyze enemies, right?
S-man figured with his overflowing "yin energy," he could channel it through his fingertips.
"Finger zap!"
Bzzzzt!
The target, hit in two vital spots at once, convulsed and collapsed limply.
S-man's yin energy was beyond what a normal body could handle. The burst twisted yin and yang inside her, paralyzing her—and trapping the ghost, drunk on the dense yin, unable to escape the host.
'It... works!'
Half-doubting it himself. S-man zapped the ones blocking his path, especially the one that'd been taunting him nonstop, then slipped away.
How to find Gyeopsik in this chaos? Simple: head where the most possessed clustered.
And there she was, up on a massive set, arms outstretched like a zombie, facing the surging crowd. Megaphone in one hand, smartphone with a spinning, dizzying screen in the other.
"Look into my eyes—you're feeling happy!!!!!!!!!!!"
She was hypnotizing them with impressive zeal.