The First Client: "You Die on Wednesday"
The first client fair had come to an end, and Everlight Academy returned to its peaceful daily routine. The lively laughter of students crossing between buildings, the heated debates echoing from classrooms—everything was just as it had been before. The Paranormal Investigation Club was enjoying that same tranquility too.
A lazy afternoon sun filtered through the club room window, casting light across the desk. Elaine sat with her eyes closed in a pose that exuded mystery. In truth, she was just basking in the sunlight from outside, taking a nap. Rone, meanwhile, had gotten up from her seat and was striking various poses in one corner of the room, diligently training her body—or so she thought. She must have been quite pleased with her own heroic performance at the fair. Her small frame made it look more cute than cool, but at least she seemed fully immersed in her workout.
Rozalia was peering meticulously into a hand mirror at her face, occasionally winking or flashing a smile at her reflection. Aurora, as if her bold display at the fair had been a lie, had settled in her usual spot away from the sunlight, buried in a thick book and fervently studying.
And I... was calculating income and expenses. Not that I was keeping a household ledger or anything. I'd retired as head of the trading company, but I wasn't so poor that I had to worry about money for life. What I was tallying was the intake and expenditure of resentment from the fair's ghost story. We'd definitely absorbed some by defeating it, but overall, we'd ended up in the red—barely breaking even.
The problem was the regressions, no doubt. We'd regressed too many times. And with so many people involved in resolving the ghost story, resentment had leaked out to outsiders beyond our club members. It was only natural to run a deficit. All the resentment we'd gained had gone straight into recharging the club room's regression count, and we'd even had to pour in extra.
But it wasn't like there'd been no gains. Facing the fair ghost story had given me a rough idea of how the students should use their gifts. Not just that—I'd gained experience in directing them too. Sometimes, rather than sticking together against a ghost story, it was better to trust they'd handle their roles and split them up into dispersed positions. I'd learned that from this ordeal.
These experiences would become powerful weapons for strategizing against future ghost stories. And with my deeper understanding of the students, I'd be able to offer more useful advice when they strengthened their gifts later on.
Whew. With no direct resentment income to show for it, I'd have to think positively like this for now.
As I sighed and wrapped up my thoughts on the fair incident, a knock came from outside the club room door. Knock knock.
Hm? Who's that? All our club members were already here. They wouldn't bother knocking anyway.
The door creaked open slowly, and a unfamiliar male student's face peeked through the gap. His youthful features were stiff with tension, and his quick glance around the room betrayed clear panic. Probably the odd sight of one guy and four girls each doing their own thing in the same space had thrown him off.
He gripped the doorknob, hesitating for a long moment, as if debating whether to turn and leave. But then, as if steeling himself, he finally spoke in a trembling voice.
"Um... is this the Paranormal Investigation Club?"
"Yeah, that's us. What brings you here?"
"M-Ms. Lydia said... if I came here, you'd help with troubles involving ghost stories. Could you... maybe hear my story...?"
At those words, I realized this timid-looking boy was the Paranormal Investigation Club's first client. When we formed the club, we'd set a policy of accepting external requests for ghost story resolutions. Everlight Academy was vast, and we were only five people—we couldn't uncover every ghost story ourselves. My solution? Make students come to us with their own ghost stories.
Advertise that we'd resolve ghost story troubles, and those tangled in incidents would bring their problems straight to our door.
"Of course. The Paranormal Investigation Club is always open to students troubled by the academy's ghost stories. Have a seat and tell us calmly."
As I offered him a chair, the others reacted swiftly. Rone bustled about preparing tea and snacks with her usual energy. Elaine, now awake from her nap, smiled mysteriously as if she'd been attentively watching him from the start. Rozalia and Aurora tucked away their mirror and book, turning their ears to the boy.
As tea and treats were set before him, the boy's tension seemed to ease a bit. He gave Rone a small thank-you before getting to the point.
"Um... my name is Edward."
I nodded as he introduced himself, waiting for more. Edward took a sip from the teacup Rone had poured—perhaps his throat was dry—and continued.
"Teacher, have you heard of the famous Eastern restaurant in the academy lately?"
"Eastern restaurant? Doesn't ring a bell."
Eastern food trending among Everlight Academy students? I pictured romance-fantasy nobles slurping jjajangmyeon and tangsuyuk. That was unexpected.
"Yes. It's called Yeolbinru... Most academy students aren't from the East, so they don't go for the food itself. The real fame comes from the fortune cookies."
"Fortune cookies? Like snacks or something?"
Rone tilted her head curiously.
"Well... it's a kind of snack, yes. Crispy on the outside, hollow inside, with a slip of paper containing a prophecy. Short phrases that predict your future. I hear in the East, they eat fortune cookies to divine fortune or misfortune."
"Divining with dessert? So romantic!"
Rozalia's eyes sparkled at the explanation. Divination and sweets—elements sure to appeal to girls. But the romance of fortune cookies mattered less than the ghost story itself.
"So what's the problem with this Eastern fortune cookie tradition?"
Edward looked tense again at my question but swallowed hard and pressed on.
"Rumors say the prophecies hit 100% accurately. No one believed it at first. But students who tried them for fun found their predictions came true. Things like 'You'll be late to class today' or 'You'll trip on the stairs.'"
He took another gulp of tea before continuing.
"Word spread like wildfire across the academy. More students went out of curiosity, and they all reported their prophecies hitting the mark. Too many shared experiences to call it coincidence. Soon, everyone knew about the fortune cookies."
Everyone? Then why were my club members acting like they'd never heard of it? I shot them a puzzled look, and they slyly averted their eyes.
Figures. Elaine and Aurora didn't seem the type with big social circles. Rone and Rozalia leaned more toward brawn than brains, if anything.
As I gave the students a pitiful glance, Edward kept talking without pause.
"But the real trouble started after that. The prophecies began predicting only misfortune. At first, minor stuff like 'A friend gets hurt' or 'You fail a test.' But they escalated."
"..."
"Actually, fortune cookies never gave positive prophecies from the start. We just realized it late."
Dragging people into misfortune and harm. Textbook ghost story behavior.
"Students receiving prophecies started suffering major accidents or irreversible mistakes. When ones like 'You'll lose something precious' or 'Misfortune befalls your family' appeared, eerie rumors spread, and fewer students visited Yeolbinru."
"So you want us to investigate those prophetic fortune cookies?"
"N-No, not that. The thing is... I went there with friends for a dare... and ate one."
"Reckless! You went despite all the ominous rumors!?"
Rone's eyes widened in shock as she shouted.
"Walking into a place shrouded in bad omens. You've proven your courage... or your foolishness."
I couldn't defend that recklessness either.
Under our scolding, Edward shrank back and offered excuses.
"I-I'm really regretting and reflecting on it now..."
Seeing his sincere remorse, I skipped further lectures and cut to the chase.
"So you came to us because you got a serious prophecy. What was it?"
Edward looked up at my question. His face paled as if recalling the words.
"It said... 'Edward, you die on Wednesday.'"
"..."
Silence enveloped the club room at his confession. The peaceful midday atmosphere vanished in an instant, replaced by a chill tension.
Today was Wednesday.