Chapter 2
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Head in the Box (2)
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“A human head?”
Taeju was a little taken aback. A human head was just too absurd an item to suddenly appear like that.
But Jeonghan nodded.
“Yes, a head.”
Letters and other miscellaneous items had tumbled out as well, but Jeonghan said he could only see that human head.
“It wasn’t a real head, was it?”
Taeju hadn’t seen any recent news about a headless body being found.
Jeonghan gave a wry smile as he replied.
“I don’t think so. Our eyes met, you see.”
In that final moment, the head had opened its eyes.
“That head... I’m not sure if this is the right way to put it, but it was alive.”
Even as he said this, Jeonghan glanced at Taeju, expecting him not to believe it.
“It must sound pretty far-fetched, right?”
But Taeju responded without the slightest hesitation.
“No, not at all. So, the head inside the box was definitely alive, you’re saying?”
Jeonghan stared at Taeju with wide eyes, surprised that he believed him immediately.
“You don’t doubt it at all?”
“Nope, not one bit. People who aren’t connected to ghost stories can’t find this place. The very fact that you made it here is proof you’ve experienced something strange.”
This was a place that only those entangled in bizarre incidents could even locate.
Of course, from Jeonghan’s perspective, that didn’t quite sink in.
Still, it was better than being treated like a lunatic.
Jeonghan felt a bit relieved.
“Anyway, what happened after that?”
“Well... I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
At Taeju’s puzzled question, Jeonghan scratched his head sheepishly.
“It’s a bit embarrassing to admit, but I passed out right after. When I opened my eyes, I was in the hospital.”
“I see.”
That made sense. Anyone would faint from shock if a human head popped out like that.
“Are you okay physically?”
Taeju asked with concern.
Jeonghan gave a bitter smile and said he was fine.
“Just some bruises from falling. My body wasn’t really the issue, though.”
True enough. A few bruises and scrapes paled in comparison to a living head.
“So, about that head...”
At Taeju’s words, Jeonghan shook his head slightly.
“No idea after that. When I asked my friends, they said they didn’t see anything like it.”
When Jeonghan had asked if they’d seen the head, his friends had responded with curses like, “This fucking idiot’s still talking nonsense!”
“After that, they patted me on the back saying it was just weakness or whatever, and since there were no real health issues, I figured it was just a freak incident.”
But the real problem started afterward.
Taeju recalled what the client had said at the very beginning.
“So, you’ve been hearing voices ever since then?”
“Yes. Starting from the evening after I saw the head. That head must have had some strange power.”
A bizarre voice, impossible to gauge the distance of, kept reaching Jeonghan from somewhere.
It was a sound that penetrated even when he plugged his ears—a strange voice.
“That’s everything I have to tell you. I’ve been hearing that voice for over a week now. I don’t want to hear it anymore.”
After hearing Jeonghan out, Taeju thought for a moment before asking.
“What happened to the box?”
At the question, Jeonghan’s expression turned subtle.
“The box? I lost it. Because I collapsed, they left it there and took me to the hospital. When my friends went back later, the box was gone.”
Taeju swallowed his regret and nodded.
A little disappointing, but unavoidable. Almost no one would prioritize a box when someone collapses.
“In that case, we should start by finding that box.”
“Huh? The box, not the head? Now?”
Jeonghan asked, puzzled, but Taeju nodded.
“Yes. There are a few things we need to confirm. First, is the source of the voices the head? Or the box? We need answers.”
If the box itself induced hallucinations, then both seeing the head and hearing the voices stemmed from it.
“In that scenario, hunting for the head would be pointless. It’d be like chasing something that doesn’t exist. Of course, if that were true, burying the box would’ve caused quite a commotion too... so the odds are low.”
Even so, finding the box still held value.
Taeju took a sip of his own drink to wet his throat before continuing.
“If the head is causing the voices, we have two things to consider. Why is the head making you hear voices? And why was it inside the box? Either way, the box holds clues.”
Jeonghan nodded at Taeju’s words.
But his face soon darkened noticeably.
It was an item lost on a mountain at dawn—finding it seemed impossible.
“But... I’m not sure we can find it.”
“If we can’t, no choice, but if we do, it’ll help solve this tremendously. One more question, if I may?”
“What is it?”
“In the voice telling you to keep your promise, do you have any idea what the promise was?”
“No clue. But are these things really that important? Honestly, I’d be fine as long as the voices stop.”
Jeonghan no longer cared about fainting because of the head.
That incident was over and done with.
“I don’t mind the head anymore. I passed out back then, but I’ve toughened up now. The real problem for me is the voices.”
All Jeonghan wanted now was for the voices to stop.
He hadn’t slept properly for days—screw the head.
“Won’t it be hard to stop the voices without digging deeper into the head?”
“That’s actually the last reason... Yeah, I think it might not just be hallucinations.”
At Taeju’s somewhat worried words, Jeonghan shot back incredulously.
“Not hallucinations? A voice I hear when I’m alone?”
“Sometimes, it’d be better if it were hallucinations. Hallucinations are hearing sounds that aren’t there, right?”
As Taeju grew serious, Jeonghan felt a chill for no reason, his expression stiffening.
“Huh? Then... what...”
“It’s the final possibility worth considering. What if it’s not hallucinations at all, but someone—or something—truly urging you to keep a promise?”
“A g-ghost or something?”
Taeju slightly revised his words at Jeonghan’s frozen question.
“Pretty much. Since it’s not human, ‘something’ fits better than ‘someone.’”
Taeju added, his face subtly frowning.
“If that’s the case, the voice could be the head from the box itself, or...”
While Taeju weighed the possibilities, Jeonghan muttered to himself.
“Is that even possible? A living head rolling around, ghostly voices... It doesn’t make sense!”
“Normally, of course not.”
Taeju readily admitted before countering.
“But unrealistic things happen sometimes. Was what you experienced logical? Or do you think it was just a mistake?”
“...No.”
Jeonghan had vaguely sensed it wasn’t mere hallucinations.
But accepting it was hard.
Seeing a real monster and hearing its voice was far more terrifying than a simple mishearing.
“Th-then why only me? Why can I see and hear it?”
Jeonghan rubbed his goosebumped arms.
“Why me, of all people?”
“Who knows. There might be a reason, or not. We can’t tell yet.”
Taeju looked at Jeonghan with sympathetic eyes.
“One thing’s clear: you’re not crazy, and what you’re hearing isn’t just hallucinations. Honestly, that’s the most likely scenario.”
Jeonghan asked cautiously.
“Why... why do you think it’s not hallucinations?”
Jeonghan’s eyes shook violently.
Deep down, he still doubted himself a little.
And that very attitude was one reason Taeju saw him as sane.
But Taeju didn’t mention that, citing other evidence instead.
There was something else they needed to explain.
“What you’ve been through follows a common structure in old tales. Someone touches what they shouldn’t, encounters something, and ends up obligated to do something as a result. There are a few specific differences, but...”
Even summarized, it was the classic ghost story setup: touch something, meet something strange as a consequence.
Jeonghan replied as if he didn’t get it.
“But we buried that box ourselves. So it’s not like it was something we shouldn’t have touched.”
Taeju shook his head.
“Ten years is a long time. Lots of people involved. Too many variables. Nothing’s certain. That’s another reason to find the box.”
It might’ve been fine at first, but no guarantee nothing happened in between.
Jeonghan nodded as if understanding.
Taeju pressed on.
“So, whichever theory is right, the box is crucial.”
But the box was gone.
Jeonghan looked troubled.
Taeju continued.
“Of course, we can’t just sit on our hands. Even without the box, there are things worth trying.”
There were ways to investigate the box without it.
“Do you remember anything from when you buried it?”
“Huh?”
Jeonghan rummaged through his memories, as if it wasn’t clear.
“We all buried it together at the end.”
“So you know what was inside?”
If not the people, maybe the contents were the issue.
“No. I remember what I put in, but not the rest.”
“Everyone kept their own items secret, huh.”
Jeonghan nodded at Taeju’s question.
It was a common practice for time capsules, nothing odd.
“But someone sealed it, right?”
“Yes, that’s right. That...!”
Jeonghan seemed to remember something and started to continue, but then shut his mouth with a complicated expression.
Taeju watched his face and asked.
“Contacting the one who closed it last could at least reveal the contents, no?”
Taeju urged an answer, but Jeonghan hesitated, starting and stopping.
Finally, he spoke as if resigned.
“Yes, there was a friend who closed the box last.”
Jeonghan took a sip of his Americano, as if his throat was dry, then continued.
“He was the one who first suggested the time capsule and put everything inside. We agreed to keep what each of us added a secret.”
“Then contacting him would reveal the contents.”
Taeju said it sounded promising.
But Jeonghan shook his head.
“No, I can’t contact him.”
“Why not?”
Taeju furrowed his brow.
Jeonghan looked awkward as he explained.
“If I could reach that friend, I’d learn a lot, sure...”
“Yeah.”
“But... he’s dead.”