Rules Were Made to Be Grilled

A beach barbecue party!

But now that I thought it over, if we'd gone to a beach run by humans, Cheogwi probably would've had a hard time relaxing in broad daylight. Here, though—a place that formally belonged to the otherworld—Cheogwi could manifest at her ease and stroll around in a swimsuit all she liked.

"Come to think of it, since this vacation is for employee welfare anyway, I'll let it slide. Just this once."

[Woohoo!]

"In that case, Ghost Widow? Bring out 'that thing,' would you?"

[Ahh... you mean 'that'?]

Cheogwi popped open the Cannibal's trunk and hauled out the barbecue grill and an ice box packed with meat, mushrooms, and vegetables.

[Muhuhu... top-grade Hanwoo beef, and premium German sausages on top of that...! Since I've gone to the trouble of manifesting, I intend to gorge myself rotten....!]

"None of that other-town dialect now. We pride ourselves on being a company that respects its peers in the same industry."

Even with both arms loaded down, Cheogwi looked delighted, as if the weight didn't bother her one bit. Such is the fearsome position known as 'boss'—a rank that lets you dump every last menial chore onto your employees.

"Have I gone and used ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it again...? The. Power. Of. The. Boss. Ahh, capitalism, what manner of anomaly are you...? To think it would place such power in human hands!"

[What's that supposed to mean? I'm only putting up with this because I'm the one who screwed up.]

That's what she'd like to think, but in truth she moves at the boss's power. That, right there, is pow.er.

"Anyway, the barbecue's packed, so let's head ouuut!!!"

The moment I began strutting boldly toward Haengbok Beach, Cheogwi gasped in alarm, grabbed my shoulder, and brought me to a halt.

[No, wait, hold on! You have to go in a swimsuit!]

"Oh, that's what you mean? Rule 1?"

[Yes! If it's a Napolitan rules ghost story, you follow the rules!!]

"But hear me out. If we followed all fifteen rules... when would we swim, when would we build sandcastles, when would we grill the barbecue? And above all... those swimsuits you picked out... they're ALL red, aren't theeeey!!"

[...!! What. The. Fudge! They said women can't wear red swimsuits!]

Of all the things—she'd gone and matched both her swimsuit and mine in the exact same red. Naturally, being a man, my wearing red broke no rule whatsoever.

'But red square-cut trunks? That's basically the Marine Corps. Strut around in that getup, and the terrifying ones from Pohang might come barreling over, dragging their Odobongo behind them.'

I fear nothing in this world, but so long as I remain a Korean man, voluntary enlistment is... enlistment is... Huh?

"Hold on, Cheogwi, I've just had a revelation."

[Hm? What is it?]

"I was abducted into the Death Game at twenty. And now, ten years later, I've come back. Which means... did I... ever actually do my military service...?"

[There's no way you did. You're a draft dodger.]

"Mr. Draft Board, nooooo!!!"

A draft dodger—me?! I thought the National Tax Service was the only one I had to outrun, but now even Gutgeon-i, the Military Manpower Administration's own mascot, is out for my blood!!

[But did you know? People abducted into the Death Game are subjected to sweeping cognitive manipulation. The Military Manpower Administration probably has you on file as having served your term, nice and proper.]

"Hm... really? Now that I think of it, I opened an office under my own name over a month ago, and they've never once contacted me."

An astonishing fact! The Organizer, it turns out, was a terrifying entity fully capable of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠exempting Korea's twenty-something men from military service...!!

For a moment, I considered striking the Organizer from my list of targets and moving them onto my list of objects of worship—but one flashback to ten years of captivity put a swift end to that.

"Anyway, let's shelve the army talk. What were we discussing?"

[About why you won't follow the rules]

"Right, and the reason is simple. We came here to rest and relax... not to humor a rules ghost story. Besides, the ones who ought to be following the rules were never us to begin with. It's them."

[Huh? What rules?]

I fished an A4 sheet out of the trunk, casually scrawled my own personal rules onto it with a marker, and slapped it up over the signpost.

"Well? With this, our terms are perfectly equal. So then, when my rules and the beach's rules collide..."

[The stronger rule claims the spot. So you've read that manga too?]

"That's the long and short of it. Now let's REALLY head ouuut!!!"

[Yahoo! It's war!]

Striding boldly across the sand in my everyday clothes and slippers, I set about scouting a good spot for the barbecue.

After all, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a Rule 1 like 'you must wear a swimsuit' is among the weakest rules there is... ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠No anomaly had shown up even after I broke it, so apparently our presence hadn't been noticed yet.

"Once we find a good spot for the barbecue, I'm planning to rent a parasol too. You want to go rent it, or shall I?"

[I'm a female anomaly, so parasol rentals are 70% off for me.]

"Then you're going."

I intended to break every rule worth breaking, but so long as nobody interfered with our barbecue, I was more than happy to pay the parasol rental fee to the beach's owner. I am, after all, a man of vast magnanimity who avoids unnecessary conflict.

In any case, the ground was dry and level—a perfect place to set up the grill and parasol and relax—so I found us a nice spot, unpacked the barbecue grill, and started putting it together.

"For today's special occasion, I even brought top-shelf charcoal. Fufufu..."

-Crunch, crunch...

Just as I was happily putting it all together, I heard someone shuffling closer, step by timid step.

[U-um, excuse me... are you b-barbecuing... right nooow?]

I didn't bother turning my head to check, and kept assembling the grill stand.

"Yep, that I am. Why?"

[Uhh... this beach of ours is a no-cooking zone...]

"I know."

Baam-baba-baaam~ baam-baam~

Actually, I had no idea. I just lied so I could deliver that line once. 'I only read Rule 1 and Rule 15. Who's going to wade through all that?'

[H-hiiiik! A madman... why is someone like this on my beach....! Come to think of it, you're not even wearing a swimsuit!]

"Your beach? So you're the owner?"

So she wasn't a bottom-rung employee after all. In that case, as a boss, she had every right to a face-to-face with a fellow boss—namely, me.

Only then did I turn my head to size her up.

-Flippity-flop, flippity-flop—a tail that wouldn't stop flapping,

-Boing, boing—something up top that kept on bouncing,

and there she was: a female anomaly with wavy, light-green hair, a starfish pin stuck in it for who knows what reason.

"Oh! The Little Mermaid!"

[I'm not a princess, just a mermaid...]

"Oh! Just a mermaid, then!"

[Yes, thank you for using the correct term... But you really can't barbecue here...]

"Sorry, but this is absolutely essential for our company's employee welfare."

Had she been a rude anomaly, I'd have turned her into me/at on the spot and laid her straight on the grill—but she was minding her manners, so I decided to settle this with a conversation. Civility for civility; I'm a civilized man like that.

"By the way, why exactly is barbecuing not allowed? From what I can see, there isn't a single other guest here besides us."

[I want our guests to come and have a wonderful time, too. I wrote the notice like a Napolitan rules ghost story simply because... simply because it keeps the troublemakers out. Even anomalies generally try to follow the rules.]

Wait, so it was just a fake rule list, written up to repel troublemaker anomalies? Think of it as hanging a 'Beware of Dog!' sign on your front gate when you don't even keep a dog to scare off burglars. That's the vibe.

[...The rest of them are just rules about keeping the beach clean.... But barbecue is genuinely not allowed! If you gr-grill meat, the smell will spread.]

"Hoo hoo, hoo hoo."

[If the smell spreads, 'that thing' comes out from somewhere. I'm the owner of this beach, but I'm utterly no match for it... We've actually had human and anomaly guests die here.]

"Oh ho, oh ho."

[...Are you even listening to a word I'm saying?]

"But of course, of course."

[Then why are you unwrapping the Hanwoo platter set?]

"Listening that hard made me hungry."

[....]

"By the way, if these are rules for keeping the beach clean, why is there one saying men can't wear black swimsuits and women can't wear red ones?"

[That's just... writing things like that makes it feel like a real Napolitan ghost story, you know? It looks cool. I got a little carried away writing the rule list... Hehe.]

....

She didn't seem to be an ordinary anomaly either.

[Doyuuun!! Got the parasol!! Rented two chairs while I was at it!]

"Yeah, yeah."

Cheogwi was coming back right on cue, so let's all have ourselves a nice chat.

"Here, eat up, eat up."

I wrapped a barbecue ssam—a lettuce wrap piled high—and stuffed the whole generous mouthful into the timid beach owner's mouth.

[Mmph mmph... Whoaa...! Hanwoo barbecue.... It really is delicious. But the smell of the grilling meat mustn't spread...]

"Oh come now~ it's perfectly fine to eat what your elders give you. Here, have a glass of zero cola as well."

[Kihyaha~ Barbecue with an ocean view... it feels like a hundred years' worth of grudges melting away all at once!]

"The marbling on this Hanwoo chuck roll! So plump! So beautifuuul!!!"

We'd come all the way to the seaside, yet not one of us was thinking about swimming. With one heart and one mind, everyone was dead set on grilling the meat first. In truth, the beach was nothing more than a barbecue launch pad.

"Try a sausage too. Charcoal-grilled sausage is all about the insane juices. Sometimes I swear it tastes even better than raw meat."

[Mmph mmph....This is delicious as well! ...B-but, now that I think about it, is it really alright for me to squeeze in here and eat all this for free....?]

"Free? I don't recall ever saying such a word."

[Eh...?]

In Han Doyun's world, there is no such thing as free. Being a beauty does not make you an exception.

[Kuk kuk kuk... You've just been abducted.]

We now bring you a shot of Cheogwi, the former Chaser, in the midst of making a truly terrifying threat.

We now bring you a photo of the mermaid, owner of the beach, who came timidly shuffling up to argue with troublemaker Han Doyun.

Please be advised that Han Doyun did not obtain consent prior to taking these photographs.