Manual Ghost Story
"Ugh. Pretty heavy, huh."
Was the real Elaine really this weighty? I dragged the ghost sealed with a talisman out into the hallway. To finally put an end to this Elaine ghost once and for all, I had to lure it out of the classroom.
The spot I brought the Elaine ghost to was smack in the middle of the hallway—the central staircase.
"Guh... grrr... ugh...!"
Sensing something, the ghost groaned and struggled even in its sealed state, but it was too late. Right in front of the central staircase, I gave the futilely resisting Elaine ghost a light kick with my foot. It wasn't a powerful strike, but the talisman left it helpless, and it tumbled weakly onto the stairs.
Right onto the central staircase.
"Once you've got a hypothesis, you have to test it."
"Mmph!! Mmmph!!!"
The ghost mmph-ed desperately.
"What? Speak up. I can't hear you."
"Mmph!! Mmmph!!! Mmmph!!!!"
As it lay sprawled on the central staircase, thick fog billowed up in an instant, enveloping the ghost's body. Like sinking into deep water, the fog completely swallowed it and vanished beyond the stairs. Crunch, crackle, squelch—the grotesque devouring sounds of something unknowable echoed from beyond, followed by blood-red mist rising up.
Soon after, the chewing and swallowing noises stopped, and the crimson mist dissipated without a trace, as if fully digested. And atop the central staircase... nothing remained. Neither the ghost nor the fog.
It was the end of the persistent ghost that had tormented me.
"Phew. Feels refreshing."
Just as I'd predicted. Exactly.
Like how the Elaine ghost had used other anomalies as sacrifices to break its seal, these things had no qualms about devouring their own kind. My hunch was right—there was no such thing as camaraderie among anomalies.
With my hypothesis confirmed, I moved on to executing the plan to resolve the Manual Ghost Story.
My first stop: the initial classroom, where I'd encountered the first anomaly.
The room was a wreck from the Elaine ghost's rampage, with only a single flesh-chair—freed from its seal—left wriggling pathetically in the center.
I tidied up the trashed classroom while dragging out the squirming flesh-chair from the middle.
"A chair that's all damp. Gross."
The flesh-chair's constant wriggling to escape my grasp felt disgusting, but with the talisman attached, I had no choice but to endure it.
Carrying the flesh-chair, I headed back to the central staircase.
"Squeee!!"
Upon arrival, the flesh-chair—which had just been trying to flee my arms—now clung desperately to me, as if refusing to let go. Had it figured out what I was about to do? Ghost story bastards were always freakishly perceptive when it came to harming others.
But I pried off the clinging flesh-chair and hurled it onto the central staircase. And just like with the ghost, the stairs devoured it.
What followed was a repeat of the same process.
I roamed the first floor, gathering every anomaly I'd previously sealed with talismans. Some, like the flesh-chair, could move on their own, but with talismans attached, none could resist my touch.
At the central staircase, I'd peel off the talisman and, before any trouble started, quickly fling the anomaly beyond the stairs. The staircase would eagerly snatch and devour its prey. Crunch, munch—for the stairs, it was a full belly; for me, reclaimed talismans. Perfect.
This was the flawless strategy I'd devised: "talisman recycling"!
The idea sparked on the third floor while fleeing the Elaine ghost, when I passed through that fake wall. Talismans sealed anomalies effectively, but I didn't need to seal every one. Like the fake wall that vanished just by closing my eyes and walking through, if I could make the anomalies disappear outright, why stop at sealing?
It was another trap laid by the night patrol rules—a narrative trick the ghost story used to deceive me.
There were clearly more anomalies in the academy than prepared talismans. Follow the manual blindly, and you'd be fine midway, but eventually run out, stalling progress.
But with talisman recycling!!
And easier than dismantling each one myself: subcontract it out.
Forget sometimes amid the academy's dense routine, but back home, I was the founder of a fairly influential trading company. Subcontracting was a core virtue of ruthless capitalists, right?
Feed weaker anomalies to stronger, more dangerous ones, and skip the risk of handling them directly. This minimized talisman use on low-threat first and second floors, funneling them all to the third and fourth.
I'd struggled on the fourth not from difficulty spotting or sealing anomalies, but sheer talisman shortage.
Conversely, restock talismans, and the fourth floor posed no real threat.
Having fed every movable anomaly from the first floor to the central staircase's maw, I ascended to the second and did the same. Recycling most anomalies from floors one and two left me with a hefty stack of talismans.
"Recycling's key, after all. Gotta think of Hifnia's environment."
Ahh, patrolling was a breeze. So easy, I could whistle a tune.
Rearmed with recovered talismans, I pushed past the third floor to the fourth.
Night patrol zone: Everlight Academy, 4th floor.
The moment my foot hit the fourth floor, a chill starkly different from the third seeped into my body. The dead-of-night fourth floor was suffocatingly silent, yet within that hush lurked a sinister wriggling presence.
Creaky old wooden floors groaned uneasily underfoot, and long shadows cast by moonlight through the windows rippled like living monsters.
This was a realm of bone-deep terror, leagues beyond the floors below.
True to the warnings, higher floors meant escalating danger—the fourth floor's anomalies rivaled all previous ones combined. As insidious as the second, as lethal as the third.
Of course, not enough to threaten me.
"...That's the last one!! Done!!"
With my Gift 'Observation' and talismans in hand, I patrolled the fourth floor seamlessly, conquering it in short order.
Ironically, the fourth floor's anomalies were less threatening than the cunning, relentless Elaine ghost that nearly killed me.
In truth, that Elaine ghost was the real final boss.
So, defeating it meant I'd half-solved this ghost story already, right?
Finishing all patrols, I leaned against the hallway wall, feeling a light fatigue.
Some talismans left, no deaths, no other casualties. Was I getting good at handling ghost stories?
"Heh. Elaine and the others are probably clueless, fast asleep. Can't wait to see their faces tomorrow when I say I cleared it solo."
Self-praising like that, I awaited the ghost story clear message... but.
"...Why no response?"
Weird. I'd patrolled the whole academy, so where's the message?
Ah! Then it hit me.
"Haha, duh. Patrol includes returning to the duty room."
Returning to the duty room. Like how a picnic isn't over till you're home, night patrol ends back at base.
How'd I forget that basic fact?
With all anomalies cleared, no threats remained.
I headed lightly to the stairs.
"Alright, back to the duty room for some relaxed—"
But the unease from the staircase froze me solid.
A plain wooden sign marking the staircase floors. Nothing special.
Yet inexplicable anxiety spread through my chest like ink in water.
What was wrong? Why had I stopped?
The sign was normal. Down pointed to the lower floor, up to...
The moment I pinpointed the dissonance, my blood ran ice-cold.
Damn. Looks like this damned ghost story wasn't over yet.