Chapter 25
Chapter 25
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 25
Chapter Title: Can't Find It (3)
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Speaking frankly.
The ability to create ghost stories.
It's just too good.
Aside from the fact that it's downright terrifying. Seriously.
Especially,
once a week.
On payday, when I open the front door, grab the delivery box, and bring it inside, my love for ghost story creation reaches its peak.
"Whoa..."
Sure enough, today's haul is a crisp stack of 50,000-won bills.
"How much is it this time?"
Holy crap.
Thirty bills bundled together. That's 1.5 million won.
It's gone up. I thought it was just a temporary bump, but at this rate, it's clear. The Rational Gacha Machine used to send about a million won a week at first, but lately it's been 1.5 million.
That means six million a month. Some months, even 7.5 million.
Ah.
The world.
Was the world always this beautiful...?
But.
There's a clear reason why even I, who loves creating ghost stories so much, have started to hesitate.
Today, it was a heart.
"...Rational Gacha. Why are you doing this to me too...?"
No matter how I look at it—upright, flipped, or double-checked—it's unmistakably a heart.
Beautifully packaged,
still pulsing away—somehow defying all logic—
popped out of the same box as the 1.5 million won.
Thump. Thump.
"..."
I lose all words at the vigorous beating of that fist-sized chunk of flesh.
But still. A heart? Isn't that a bit much?
The person this came from must be 100% dead now.
So... does that mean the Rational Gacha Machine kills people too...?
"Maybe the Responding Bear Doll farmed it...? No. No, that can't be..."
Thinking it over again, this has to be from the Rational Gacha Machine.
If it were farmed by the Responding Bear Doll, the heart wouldn't be beating...
Items farmed by the Responding Bear Doll come exactly as they are in their original state. A human heart stops beating once it's out of the body, so one from the Bear Doll shouldn't be pulsing.
On the other hand, the Rational Gacha Machine has the ability to turn penalty items into ghost stories on its own. Like how pulling an eyeball lets you transplant it instantly, ignoring real-world physics, and suddenly see again.
Probably Lee Seol's pinky finger too. If they'd just attached it back to her, it would've worked fine without surgery. It was perfectly functional.
Sorry, Lee Seol. Your pinky got replaced by Team Leader Shin Na...
Thump. Thump.
Anyway, for that reason, seeing this heart still beating strong inside its packaging confirms it's from the Rational Gacha Machine.
A heart, of all things.
"So you end up killing people too, huh."
A chill runs down my spine.
I poured my heart into making a ghost story that begged it not to do that, and yet here we are.
Still, I want to believe there's some reason behind it.
Like maybe they failed to complete a penalty until they bled out completely and had their heart repossessed.
Or they wished for euthanasia and got their heart taken as payment.
Or it was someone who totally deserved to die.
...But even so.
"That's not right..."
In the end, one fact is crystal clear.
My ghost stories.
They kill people.
That's why, even though I love creating ghost stories,
I end up scared and reluctant.
I'm afraid my creations will go berserk.
Afraid that the more I use my power, the more I'll get corrupted myself,
and casually churn out even more horrific ones.
"Sigh..."
I shoved the still-throbbing heart into the vegetable crisper in the fridge.
There's already a sheet of human skin in there, along with a few other fresh body parts packed away.
In the old days, I wouldn't have slept a wink.
I'd have had nightmares every night of the police busting down the door, opening the fridge, and yelling, "What the hell is this?! What is all this?!"
But these days, I didn't worry much about that.
Even if the fridge was stuffed with body parts instead of people swarming the place, even if those people called to report it ten times a day begging for rescue, the cops still wouldn't find me. They'd never track me down, no matter what I did...
...Huh.
Something feels off now.
"...Guess I'll hit the convenience store for some macadamia ice cream."
For a mood boost. I slipped on my slippers and headed out.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Ghost story creation requires caution.
So.
Progress on creating a doll as my proxy... was still zilch.
I had some ideas popping up, but... I just couldn't find the right materials.
At first, I thought I'd grab any old mannequin and try, but... no ghost stories formed from a mannequin.
Why? Not entirely sure.
Maybe a plain mannequin doesn't stimulate my inspiration enough.
Or maybe the plausibility falls flat: a random mannequin suddenly looking like me, acting like me, thinking like me, and acting as my proxy.
"What a headache..."
Actually, I had a few methods that could cover both inspiration and plausibility.
Stories about entities mimicking you are a dime a dozen.
Doppelgangers, clones, shapeshifters, that sort of thing.
For example, what if I made a straw doll, stuffed it with my hair and nails, and turned it into a ghost story that mimics me?
Or a setup where my shadow detaches and starts gradually imitating me?
My gut says those would work.
They would.
The problem is.
"If I make it that way, it's 100% gonna try to kill me and take my place..."
That's the issue.
Those old folktales that are widely known have plausibility and spark inspiration, but... their endings are all bad news.
Even if I tweak the setup as best I can... who knows. They're inherently tales of 'disasters' or 'curses,' so a ghost story based on that might have limits, no matter how nicely I package it.
Of course, it might not.
But I can't exactly experiment with my own life on the line.
"So... I need something that mimics me but has no desire to replace me—totally separate plausibility?"
Is that even...
possible?
Headache city.
The Shadow Office said they'd prepare something, but they've been radio silent.
Ugh.
Lost in thought as I walked, I passed the convenience store. I'd come out for macadamia ice cream, after all.
"...Might as well take a stroll."
Some weird impulse hit me, so I kept walking aimlessly. Hopped on the subway, got off somewhere random, wandered without direction, and before I knew it,
"Hm...?"
I was passing a familiar alley.
A place I'd visited recently.
But why'd I end up here? The neighborhood's clean and pretty, sure, but...
Tilting my head, I rounded a corner,
"Huh?"
And there was a familiar woman pacing around.
"Lee Seol?"
The words slipped out before I knew it, and she whipped around to face me.
Then,
a full-blown smile spread across her face.
"Kim I-han!"
She bounced right up to me like she was flying.
Her severed ear had a bandage with a bunny drawn on it.
And the stump of her missing pinky... had a smiley face drawn on it? Wait. Smiley?
"Hehe. Cute, right?"
Sensing my gaze, Lee Seol flicked up her hand.
Two dots for eyes, a curve for a grin. A smiley beaming from her pinky stump.
"It can even move."
The remaining pinky bone twitched, making the smiley wriggle like it was giggling.
Uh. How do I even react to this.
"Great to see you!"
Luckily—or not—she beat me to it. Grabbed my hand and hopped around.
"This is so wild! Bumping into you here like this! I kept feeling drawn back to this spot for no reason. Guess it was all to meet you, I-han. Do you live around here?"
Her words, delivered with a beaming smile.
Left me momentarily speechless.
Drawn here 'for no reason'...?
She called it 'for no reason,' but I had a pretty good idea why.
Because this was the place we'd agreed to meet before.
Even after forgetting me completely, even when she couldn't find me, that feeling stuck with her crystal clear. That she had someone to meet. Stories to share.
That pull must've guided her here.
"I-han, you busy? If not, wanna grab a coffee? I've got so much to talk about. This is our second time meeting here, right?"
Lee Seol tugged my elbow lightly and took the lead, chanting "Come on, come on." I followed her in a daze.
"Back then, I didn't notice how weird it all was, but looking back, it's nothing but weird stuff! That gacha machine was bizarre, and me suddenly being able to see? Super weird! That's why I wanted to chat about it with you. But get this—funny, right? I had your number and totally forgot. Sheesh. I could've just called you, but instead I wandered around feeling empty 'cause I had no one to talk to. Coming here and all. Total idiot move, huh?"
Chatter chatter.
Prattle prattle.
What a lively girl.
The fact that someone like her remembered me, wanted so badly to see me—that sincere heart of hers—hit me heavier than expected.
"You know what?"
We sat in a café, sipping coffee slowly, spilling all sorts of stories without filter, when Lee Seol suddenly said that.
"There's this thing called imprinting in people too, I guess."
She rummaged through her floral eco-bag and pulled out a notebook.
"I've been practicing drawing lately. Look here. All these male character faces."
What the...?
Curious, I peeked at the notebook. It was filled with impressively detailed sketches—way beyond a beginner.
"Whoa..."
"Hilarious, right?"
Oddly enough, every character's face she drew... vaguely resembled me.
Not just the men. Even the women.
Not identical, but eerily similar. Enough that anyone who knew me would notice.
"Maybe 'cause you were the first person I met after waking up. It's nuts. Earlier, seeing you made me think of these drawings and I nearly cracked up inside."
Lee Seol burst into laughter.
She was.
The kind of person who kept smiling at me, even when I did nothing.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Agent Shin Na. We've got a mission."
"...Finally!"
Shin Na clenched her fist at the voice coming through the speaker.
After being confirmed as under KEH's influence, she'd been reclassified as Type 13-1 personnel and excluded from all missions.
Even so,
Shin Na kept pushing to return to active duty.
Insisting she was perfectly fine.
And now, her first mission had finally come. Maybe the signal flare for getting back on the front lines.
But,
⚙ ARPS ALERT ⚙ ⟨Twilight of Waiting⟩
#ARPS-HTS-31038 Twilight is the time of waiting. Sometimes, the wait never ends. When twilight falls, those waiting indefinitely are swallowed. At first, they don't realize they've been swallowed. The surroundings look exactly the same. But there, twilight never ends, and forever, not a single soul passes by. After hearing the mission details, Shin Na gave a wry smile.
"You want me to enter this new Aberrant Reality Pollution Source and investigate?"
- That's right. For reference, we've sent in Type 13 personnel three times already, and the survival rate is zero percent. You can refuse since survival isn't guaranteed.
A pollution source where once trapped, you're doomed to stare at the eternal sunset until you die.
"Sounds poetic. I'll do it. I don't need food or sleep to survive anyway, so I'll hole up there and investigate thoroughly. Normalize it if I can. You said only one person can enter at a time, right? Even if I can't get out, the one inside won't starve, so the source itself gets sealed. Until I croak from old age or off myself."
She laughed brightly while saying something terrifying.
- ...You've really haven't changed a bit.
A bitter voice came from the speaker.
Shin Na smiled.
"I've told you that a million times. So, if I nail this mission and come back alive, put in a good word for me."
- ...Fine, you stubborn ass.
"Yes!"
Shin Na pumped her fist.
Her old mentor, once her trainer.
They hadn't met much since he got reassigned to HQ, but she knew him.
He wasn't the type to go back on his word.
"It's a promise, Senior."
- I got it. Just come back alive, damn it. Assuming that twilight swallows you first. Or maybe it won't, since you're not human.
"Pfft. I am human. Just sans blood."
Shin Na pouted, then laughed heartily.