Chapter 20
Chapter 20
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 20
Chapter Title: Welcome Home, Master
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Not anyone else.
The outstanding Employee Park Yeon-jeong, who had been properly scorched by the flame of capitalism inflicted by the ghost story, was currently.
Thud...
- Turn right in 50 meters.
"...Turn right here."
Following his smartphone's navigation app toward somewhere.
The destination his footsteps were leading to now was the house that the Announcement Broadcast fellow—claiming he'd even secured a single home nearby—was supposedly providing him.
And that was just two days into his employment, after pocketing forty million won from the company.
A crisp suit.
A piping-hot, freshly issued ID for an illegal resident.
Housing provided, to boot.
The very model of a dream job.
If you focused solely on those benefits, it was nothing short of one.
A company equipped with every employee perk worth envying.
Even Park Yeon-jeong, momentarily lining up all these circumstances in his mind, nearly fell for it.
Almost bought into the sleazy corporate bait like, "Hey, this looks pretty good?"
No matter how stellar the welfare package.
No matter how sky-high the pay.
If I die, that's it.
All those perks mean jack if I'm dead.
Given the savage workload, these might even be benefits I deserve by default.
...No.
Get a grip, Park Yeon-jeong.
Truth is, I might be the lucky one here.
Plenty of places don't offer squat.
Be grateful for what they give.
He decided once more that it was a mercy the Announcement Broadcast guy showed even a shred of humanity.
Come to think of it, the Ghost Story Archive overflowed with far worse types than him.
By the metric of treating me like an actual person with agency, the guy might even qualify as decent.
"Speaking out of turn... my apologies."
And thank you.
Brother Announcement Broadcast.
While silently thanking the unseen Announcement Broadcast for recognizing him as a person.
- You have arrived at your destination.
The announcement chimed before he knew it.
He turned his gaze.
There stood a lone detached house.
Park Yeon-jeong had once dreamed of scrimping together enough cash to buy his own place.
He'd especially fantasized about living in one with a yard attached.
...Yeah, pure fantasy.
But lo and behold.
In this world, he was about to make it reality.
Naturally.
Crack!
Thud!
The wooden pillar propping up the front gate toppled limply to the ground.
"..."
He hadn't claimed the house was in pristine shape.
...Announcement Broadcast, you bastard.
I hate you.
The remaining pillar on the opposite side, single-handedly holding up the gate, swayed perilously.
"...The inside has to be okay, right?"
The words slipped out like a curse.
But without some self-hypnosis right here, he doubted he'd get any farther.
He crept through the gate with utmost care, lest the pillar collapse.
...Huff... huff.
Is this... for real?
As he squeezed through the narrow gap.
Escape room?
Reality crashed down.
He toyed endlessly with the idea of snagging some other intact lodging right now.
"...Finally made it in."
He'd barely cleared the cramped gate.
...Fine.
Might as well check the interior before bailing.
Who knows?
Inside could be surprisingly tidy.
He wasn't optimistic.
Treading slowly over the withered lawn toward the front door, he peered through the shattered glass pane.
Dust blanketing everything. Furniture smashed to bits.
Squeak!
...Rats, too.
Seriously bounce?
The verdict seemed obvious without further inspection.
Still.
He fished the key from the Announcement Broadcast out of his pocket and stared at it blankly for a moment.
"...It's from that guy, after all."
Maybe it'd be different somehow.
His curiosity had shifted—not toward the house anymore, but whether the guy had done something special to this key.
He slid it into the front door lock.
Click.
The door swung open effortlessly.
Flash.
Light.
A gentle glow seeping from the gap.
...What the?
He shut the door again and double-checked through the broken glass.
Pitch black.
The thick layer of grime still clung to his eyes.
Rustle.
...Gah!
Cockroach!
Now roaches skittering about in an interior utterly devoid of light—the absolute worst.
No way light could leak from in there.
It was far too bright to be leaking.
Click.
He gripped the doorknob and turned it once more to confirm.
Flash.
Just as before, a brilliant beam streamed from beyond. He flung the door wide and peered inside.
The interior matched perfectly what you'd call a lived-in home.
Not a speck of dust.
A spotless setup where no cockroaches would dare crawl.
Warmth wafting from beyond the soft light, along with countless wooden furnishings.
And the instant the door opened, the nostalgic aroma of soybean paste stew tickled his nose.
...Thud.
Park Yeon-jeong stepped inside unthinkingly.
He froze.
A sudden pang of regret hit him.
He halted.
Gurgle.
But his stomach clock kept ticking.
Was it because of that soybean paste stew scent he loved most in the world?
"...Just checking it out. Just a peek."
Should be fine, right?
Not saying I'm eating.
Purely objective observation of the situation.
Slurp.
Park Yeon-jeong barely swallowed the drool trickling from his lip and, shoes still on, thudded toward the kitchen wafting that tantalizing smell.
He poked just his head in to look.
No human silhouette.
No shadows.
His gaze drifted slowly to the table.
Appetizing dishes laid out. A steaming bowl of rice.
Simple sides arranged atop it.
No signs anyone had cooked.
The perfect "ghost would weep" scenario.
"........."
Looks tasty.
But from the start, Park's eyes locked on his ultimate favorite: the soybean paste stew.
He itched to dive right in and savor it.
"But... yeah, this is pushing it, isn't it?"
Cold logic.
In a situation where nothing was confirmed, chowing down on table food?
Way too rash.
Regrettable, but for now.
Tactical retreat was the play.
Not like today was the only day.
Better to observe longer...
Bang!
"Wh-what!"
A sudden bang from behind yanked his gaze around.
The front door—open moments ago—seemed to have slammed shut.
...W-wind, probably?
But before he could cling to that denial.
He spotted a scrap of paper on the floor, fallen who-knows-when.
He didn't stoop to pick it up.
The words scrawled there burned clear into his vision.
『Eat your meal.』
Huge letters across an A4 sheet.
Announcement Broadcast?
Nah.
Ghost stories typically don't extend influence beyond their turf.
"...Of all colors, red."
Park confirmed the note, then swung his gaze back to the kitchen table.
...Telling me to eat that?
What makes you think it's safe in those mouthwatering dishes?
"......"
Gulp.
...They did look damn good.
And that wasn't all.
Growl growl growl.
His gut roared like thunder crashing.
But... really, really okay?
Right up to the last thread of reason, clinging desperately to the line—a new sight appeared before Park Yeon-jeong.
Flutter.
Another paper drifted down.
A few curt words again.
『No poison.』
"......"
Growl growl growl growl.
No poison, it says.
Should be fine?
The thread of reason he'd gripped so tight.
Snapped all too easily at a single line on that scrap.
The savory soybean paste aroma stabbing his nose. Perfectly steamed white rice to boot.
"...I'll dig in."
The starving man's feast wrapped up quicker than expected.
*****
Every dish.
Was delicious.
A truly satisfying meal after ages.
He'd planned to bolt right after eating.
Specifically.
Sleep at some nearby inn.
But post-meal, shuffling toward the door, he spotted yet another.
『Please remove your shoes indoors.』
Alongside the shoe-removal request.
His eyes snagged inexplicably on the baseball bat by the shoe rack.
"......"
...It was always there, right?
Yeah?
...Gulp.
Dry-swallowing, he wound up bedding down unbidden in this nameless ghost story domain.
Thereafter, scraps dotted every path he took, right at eye level.
『Wash your body clean.』
He obeyed and showered.
Swipe.
Some gaze prickled during the rinse; he scrubbed at triple speed.
『Change of clothes.』
Garments atop the bed he was to crash on.
The prepped threads fit him like a glove, uncannily.
"......"
...Just crash already.
Hit the hay fast.
Bolt at dawn.
Flutter.
?
A scrap fluttered softly onto his blanket as he settled in.
The message there.
『Good night, Master.』
".............."
He conked out on the spot.
Someone watching over his sleeping form.
He ignored the downward gaze as best he could.
And barely.
Just barely drifted off.
Flutter.
Flutter.
Flutter.
Flutter.
...Lemme sleep.
*****
Bzzz-
Vibration hummed bedside.
His set wake-up alarm.
He flailed his arm till it hit the source.
Tap.
It silenced.
"......Ugh."
Bedhead tousled. Dark circles pooling under his eyes.
Beyond that, the bedroom floor where he'd slept was littered with papers galore.
Every one bore the same lone word.
『Master.』
『Master.』
『Master.』
『Master.』
『Master.』
.
.
.
Dozens, hundreds strewn about—the epitome of terror.
...Bounce, stat.
He hauled his stiff bod upright. No sooner than he stood.
Hot breakfast awaited on the table.
『Eat your meal.』
...With all this care laid out.
Park polished off the surprisingly yummy breakfast.
In the living room, on the table.
The black suit from Announcement Broadcast lay neatly pressed.
The place struck him as pretty decent, sleep discomfort aside.
Obviously.
No clue if he'd return.
Paired with pristine black oxfords in the shoe rack.
The moment he finally exited the nameless ghost story.
- Master.
A woman's soft breath tickled his ear, her refined voice a whisper.
- Come home safe.
Click.
The front door clicked shut.
...He fled that house posthaste, faster than ever.
Steps pounding like a getaway.
He whipped out his smartphone to check the time.
AM. 07:00
"Plenty of time."
His early-morning next stop.
[Ghost Story Pawnshop.]
'Hope it's not as hyped as last time...'