Chapter 32
Chapter 32
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: Setting Up the Workshop
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A week had passed since handling the theme park commission.
Now the streets were thick with Christmas cheer. Couples filled the sidewalks, and faint carols drifted out from the shops.
*Reminds me of the old days.*
Ian was an orphan from birth. No parents, raised entirely in an orphanage. He'd gone straight to independence after high school graduation, but his childhood had all been spent there. All his memories of innocent Christmases were left behind in that place.
He vaguely recalled the Santa cosplayers who came for volunteer work. The thrill of receiving a single stocking from one of them.
Those were all distant memories now.
He didn't miss them particularly. The orphanage had been devoutly religious, with a rigidly strict daily life. If anything, his current setup was better. He never could have imagined becoming a wizard straight out of a novel and diving into the world's underbelly.
Life was strange. Ian chuckled dryly and took a sip of his mixed coffee.
"Sorry about that. I had something urgent come up."
At that moment, the real estate agent—who had been tapping away at his computer—handed Ian a green grape candy and sat down across from him. Ian smiled softly and shook his head.
"No worries. I get it—college kids are starting to scout for off-campus housing this time of year, so you're busy."
A real estate office not too far from his place.
With some money in hand, he'd come here himself to find a workshop.
Apps weren't a bad option, but the listings there were all insanely priced, so he'd given up on that. If nothing good turned up, he'd have to use one, but he planned to exhaust every option. Pounding the pavement was part of it.
"Haha, thanks for understanding. Anyway, about those conditions you mentioned earlier—good news, I was able to narrow down a few."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Here's a list I put together. Take a look."
The agent slid a printed sheet toward Ian. Ian set down his paper cup and examined the list carefully.
What he wanted: cheap, sparsely populated area, not too cramped—a studio or officetel.
A bit picky, sure, but for a workshop, those were must-haves. Better to prevent risks of getting caught by normals mid-alchemy than deal with them after.
Cheaper the better, obviously.
"Hmm..."
Ian's dark eyes scanned the listings' specs and prices, moving slowly down the page.
Conditions were decent across the board, but the prices were weirdly high. He flipped past without a second thought and checked the next.
Prices dipped a little here, but the rooms were awkwardly sized. Studios that'd feel cramped just stacking materials, before even starting work.
Pass.
Finally, the last page.
All middling listings that hit or missed on every criterion.
Unfortunately, nothing caught his eye.
Just as Ian sighed inwardly and moved to close the list, one listing at the very bottom jumped out.
An officetel building not far from his place. Spacious floor plan, multiple rooms, loaded with basic amenities. And the deposit was under 5,000.
Suspiciously good—bordering on scam territory.
Ian pointed at it and asked the agent.
"Why's this one so cheap?"
"Oh, that officetel..."
The agent trailed off awkwardly, took a sip of instant coffee, then explained.
"Rumor has it it's haunted as hell."
"...Haunted?"
Ian furrowed his brow slightly. The agent nodded vigorously.
"Yeah. Famous around here. Ghosts in the security booth on the first floor, hallway ghosts, elevator ghosts, grudge spirits—you name it. Total ghost building. Ghost building."
"..."
"We had eight tenants in the last year, and all eight offed themselves. After that, no one's moved in."
"...And the building's still standing."
"Owner must be loaded. Anyway, I don't recommend it. Even a shaman went in and got done in instead. This is real. No joke."
The agent warned him with a straight face. Ian pondered briefly, then smiled.
"I'll take this one."
"Huh?!"
The agent flipped out.
"I won't take responsibility! Seriously! Don't come blaming me later for not stopping you!"
"I won't. Just give me the landlord's contact—I'll talk to them directly."
The agent muttered skeptically but handed over a number. Ian left the office and called it right away.
It rang three times before the landlord picked up.
"Hello? About contracting that empty unit."
*
The landlord suggested meeting at a nearby café immediately. Luckily, it was empty-ish, so Ian grabbed a corner seat and waited.
Soon, a middle-aged woman entered.
She scanned the room with extreme unease, spotted Ian, and sat across from him.
"Hi. You're the officetel owner, right?"
Ian bowed his head slightly in greeting. But her response wasn't an introduction.
"Contract? From the real estate? App? Wherever you saw it, take it as listed. You can move in today if you want. Anytime."
"Uh... yeah?"
"I'll handle all the paperwork. Just show up. I'm sick of hearing ghost noises! I want to live like a normal person!"
She glared at Ian with wild eyes. Her bloodshot gaze reflected him perfectly.
"I'll sweeten the deal if you want! Deposit? Rent? Name it! I can knock more off!"
"O-okay, got it. Calm down a bit first."
"I'm gonna die living like this! Please, just move in, mister!"
*Yeah, this is hopeless.*
Ian clicked his tongue inwardly as he stared at the ranting landlord.
Slightly unfocused eyes. Bloodshot whites. Fingers crusted with scabs from biting, lips swollen and burst.
Nothing normal about her. She'd cracked long ago. Normal conversation was out.
Made sense—living with ghosts would do that. Ian sighed deeply and tapped the table with his finger.
*The listing's not so-so that I'd pass just because the landlord's nuts.*
Good luck finding comparable specs and price elsewhere. Better to placate her and make do.
Bonus: clear out the building's ghosts for materials.
His stock was running low lately. Stocking up now wasn't bad.
Ian nodded, decision made.
"I'll move in. Handle whatever processing you can. I'll pay after."
"...! Thank you, mister! I'll pack it with terms all in your favor! No suicides or sudden move-outs!"
"Won't happen. Can I check out the place now? Alone?"
The landlord happily agreed.
He left the café and headed straight to the officetel.
"..."
He arrived soon enough. What greeted him: a grand building—and its windows plastered with stray ghosts.
[Come on in.]
They all mouthed it, lips flapping. Grim sight, but Ian entered without hesitation.
Sensor lights flickered on at his approach. But they started strobing again soon. Ian spotted the CCTV positions, slipped into a blind spot, and waited for the ghosts to show.
They didn't disappoint, manifesting under the blinking lights.
A woman in a pristine mourning dress, face pulped like it'd been ground on asphalt. She stared holes through Ian and grinned.
[Kyahahahaha!!!]
She charged him madly. Peeking from a corner behind her were more stray ghosts.
Eager to see how he'd die, probably.
But Ian summoned his grimoire instead. He slapped a hand on the incoming ghost's ethereal body and chanted.
"Be reborn."
Crack!!
The ghost crumpled, shrinking to a small orb. Ian pocketed it with a satisfied smile.
Then he grinned at the ghosts around the corner.
"Next."
[Kyaaaaak!!]
Having spat the line he'd always wanted to, the ghosts panicked and fled. Ian tucked the grimoire into his coat and gave chase down the hall.
[Kyaaaaaaaak!! It's a crazy human!!!]
Good thing night was still young.
Squelch!