The True Nature of the Prophecy
The lively laughter of students crossing between buildings, the heated debates echoing from classrooms, and the lazy afternoon sunlight filtering through the clubroom windows to illuminate the desks. In that peaceful atmosphere, the club members went about their own business freely, ignoring one another. Elaine pretending to nap mysteriously. Rone diligently doing baby steps of physical training after the fair incident—hoping it wouldn't fizzle out after three days. Rozalia meticulously inspecting her face in a hand mirror without tiring of it. And Aurora reading a thick, boring-looking book. If she kept burying her nose in books like that, she'd end up needing real glasses instead of fashion ones someday. The clubroom looked just as peaceful as if nothing had happened from the start.
But that quiet, leisurely atmosphere in the club didn't last long.
Knock knock. A cautious knock at the clubroom door.
She's here.
At the sound, the students—who had been pretending everything was normal just moments ago—flinched visibly.
Hmm. Can't quite recreate the pre-regression vibe, huh? I'd planned to repeat the exact situation from the day before regression to mimic the pre-regression atmosphere as much as possible. But it seemed impossible.
I instructed the girls to drop the act and opened the clubroom door.
"Uh, u-um...?"
Edward looked flustered, as if he hadn't expected the door to open before he did.
"Don't just stand there blankly—come in. You came to the Paranormal Investigation Club for a reason, didn't you?"
"Y-Yes? Oh, yes, yes!"
Flustered by my abrupt invitation inside, he nonetheless obeyed meekly.
Once inside the clubroom, he scanned the room with a dazed expression. The members pretended to go about their usual tasks, but they couldn't hide the odd way they eyed Edward.
Hmm. That's why I suggested recreating our pre-regression actions as much as possible.
Edward noticed the members' complex gazes and flinched, asking timidly,
"Um... why is everyone looking at me like that? Like I'm... a dead person or something...?"
The girls flinched at his question and hurriedly averted their eyes, but their actions only amplified the suspicion.
Hah. No helping it.
Before Edward could grow even more wary of the Paranormal Investigation Club, I cut in first.
"That's probably because you got a death prophecy from that fortune cookie, Edward. You're feeling it yourself."
"...!? H-How did you...!"
"Heh. I already knew you'd come to the Paranormal Investigation Club, Edward."
Because I went through it once via regression.
I gazed down at him with feigned leisure, and Edward trembled as if electrocuted by my response.
"It was real...! Just like Teacher Lydia said, the Paranormal Investigation Club might really... solve my problem!!"
Edward shuddered in excitement.
Alright. Time for the scam show to begin.
"Ah, Teacher Allen! The truth is, my worry is all because of that prophecy from the fortune cookie!"
After that, just like before the regression, Edward began explaining the fortune cookie trend among students, the prophecy he received, and the 'coincidences' that had happened since morning, as if the prophecy was coming true.
Maybe because his initial image-making had gone well. He seemed more proactive and passionate in describing his situation than pre-regression.
"—And that's what happened."
"I already knew all that."
After hearing his full explanation, I waved my hand dismissively, speaking in a bored tone as if it were trivial.
The start of a scam is always about dominating the target's psyche.
"Y-You already knew...!!"
The scam show hadn't even properly started yet, but Edward was already shocked by every word I said.
This'll resolve easier than I thought.
I leaned deeply into the chair's backrest, as if it were a trivial issue, and parted my lips.
"Unnecessary worry. What happened to you is just a string of coincidences. Sometimes, life throws events that can't be explained by logic or science alone. But that's only because humanity hasn't uncovered it yet—it's still fully explainable by logic and science. So, abandoning logic and science to rely on irrational intuition and prattle about fate is foolish. That intuition is the very blindfold darkening our eyes."
"...."
"Isn't that the opposite of what you said before?"
"Yeah, right? You went on about how intuition transcends logic back then..."
"Saying that without batting an eye..."
I could hear them. Ignoring the club members' whispers about me, I kept my expression neutral and looked at Edward.
His face of total trust in me from moments ago was gone; now he eyed me suspiciously.
"Coincidences? No way! Yeolbinru's fortune cookies are real! They're definitely an Eastern mystery beyond modern science!"
Hah. This guy. Flipping his attitude the moment I didn't say what he wanted to hear.
But I'd anticipated this much. I met Edward's eyes head-on, smiled meaningfully, and leaned forward.
"Ever heard of the Barnum effect?"
"Barnum... effect?"
Edward recoiled, his face saying he'd never heard of it.
Of course not. This world might not even have researched the Barnum effect, and even if it did, it probably wouldn't be called that.
"It's one of psychology's theories. It refers to the tendency to accept vague, general descriptions of personality or events—ones that could apply to anyone—as applying only to a specific individual or event."
"Specific... individual?"
Edward repeated it several times, as if struggling to understand.
"For example, suppose a fortune cookie says, 'A worry you've been harboring in your heart will come true.'"
"Ah! That actually happened! Something like that!!"
So it was a real prophecy. Even better.
"When you get that prophecy and the worry you've been fretting over actually hits, you'd think the cookie pierced your heart and predicted the future."
"That's exactly what I'm saying!"
"But is it really? Because everyone harbors at least one or two worries, big or small. From major ones like future career paths to minor ones like 'What if I'm caught for accidentally breaking a classmate's pen last week?' If you insist, they're all worries. So phrases like 'a worry you've been harboring' aren't specific to anyone special—they apply to everyone. It's like saying one academy student has a promising future; of course they do, since they're at the academy. It ends up applying to anyone."
"B-But what about the worry actually coming true? Doesn't that mean it foresaw the future!?"
"That's easy to figure out with a little thought. Worries are worries precisely because they're likely to happen soon. Does anyone worry the sky might fall tomorrow? If so, they need psychiatric help. The worries people carry are ones with a realistic chance of realization. And considering the brain's bias toward positive thoughts over negative ones, stubbornly dwelling on negative worries shows the probability of it happening isn't low."
"B-But still..."
Edward tried to rebut, but he only stammered, at a loss for words.
Of course he couldn't logically counter. Ghost stories defy existing logic and common sense by nature.
Even he seemed somewhat convinced, his rebuttal lacking force.
"...Ah!! Come to think of it!"
Suddenly, Edward leaned in close, as if something had struck him.
Did he think of a counterargument? Good. I wanted to drive the nail deeper anyway.
"But there were prophecies that can't be explained just by that 'Barnum effect'! Not vague ones that apply to anyone, but 'special prophecies' that only fit the person who got the cookie—no one else!"
"That's easy to explain too."
"...Huh?"
Edward rattled off the 'special prophecies' he knew, but I dismissed them curtly.
At my firm tone, Edward—who'd been confidently citing counterexamples—froze for a moment.
"Hot reading. And cold reading."
"Hot... cold?"
Stammering again like a broken wind-up doll at the new terms.
"Edward. Didn't you wonder? How I knew you'd come to consult the Paranormal Investigation Club before you even entered, and even knew your name."
"Y-Yes, I was curious. What amazing method did you use to see through me...?"
"It's nothing grand—just a trick. Teacher Lydia just tipped me off that you might come to the clubroom today for counseling."
Of course, it was a lie. If Lydia had told me, I'd have figured it out last round.
But Edward, with no way to know, believed me completely.
"Ah, a-ah..."
Disappointed by how mundane the 'secret' was, he looked deflated.
"See? That mysterious secret seems trivial once you spot the trick, right?"
"N-No, I wouldn't say trivial..."
"That's hot reading. Investigating someone's psychological state or personal info in advance through background checks or snooping before meeting them."
"...!!"
"And conversely, cold reading is inferring info about someone after meeting them, from speech patterns, gestures, clothing, expressions, and so on."
He seemed to grasp what I was getting at before I finished. His shocked face said it all—he was speechless.
"A hugely popular Eastern restaurant among students would naturally have regulars, right? Especially with fortune-telling dessert mixed in—it must've trended big with the girls. Some students probably visited Yeolbinru several times a week."
"Y-Yes, definitely..."
Edward nodded hastily, as if something clicked.
"And regulars? Yeolbinru could've easily gathered personal info on them. Just eavesdropping on student chats there, or if serious about 'prophecies,' actively digging deeper. Right?"
"Y-Yes, exactly."
"So crafting prophecies targeted at specific people wouldn't be hard. And you said the prophecies got more intense over time?"
"Yes, yes! How did that happen!?"
Now Edward no longer doubted me. He sought answers from me like a pilgrim chasing truth.
"The prophecies ramping up just means as fortune cookies got popular, hot and cold reading info accumulated, allowing more detailed prophecies. More data meant more specifics, and specific prophecies predict concrete upcoming misfortunes. Without info, you can't tell if big trouble looms, but with data, you can target precarious folks and prophesy doom."
Edward slumped into his chair, drained.
"Th-Then why only prophesy misfortune?"
"Didn't you say it at the start? Ignoring Eastern traditions, treating it lightly as a joke. Someone whose culture was disrespected might've taken petty revenge."
Edward's final question:
"...Why prophesy my death?"
"Well, I have a hunch. But I haven't confirmed it yet, so I can't say for sure..."
"Wh-What is it? That hunch..."
"You could find out for sure by visiting Yeolbinru again today. They probably planned to stop fortune cookies altogether. For the finale, no holds barred—just saying whatever they wanted, hot or cold reading be damned. Even bad prophecies wouldn't stop you kids treating their homeland culture like a lowbrow game, calling it a 'courage test.' That 'death prophecy' you got might've been their final, resentment-laced curse to a student who mocked their beloved fortune cookie culture."
"...."
Edward fell silent, face rigid in thought.
About the time for a cup of tea to pass...
He stood with a cold expression.
"Leaving already?"
"...Yes. I'll go to Yeolbinru and check if you're right..."
It will be. I'd confirmed it pre-regression, after all.
"...And if my guess is correct?"
"...Then I'll reflect on mocking Eastern fortune cookie culture as a joke and apologize."
"Even if the prophecy was fake? They tried to mess with you, and you spent the day trembling in fear of death?"
"I started it. I was wrong first."
With that, Edward bowed politely to me and left the clubroom.
The moment he was gone, the members—who'd been holding their breath watching my 'scam performance'—erupted in admiration.
"Whoa... Teacher, you're amazing!"
Rone's eyes sparkled in awe.
"Even knowing all the truths behind the ghost story, I nearly nodded along and believed you, sire!"
Rozalia squealed in equal admiration.
Elaine said nothing, just smiled faintly, but her eyes shone with deep satisfaction and respect.
"Wow, Teacher. That was performance-level acting—I'd believe you could've been a con artist if you hadn't become an academy teacher."
Aurora's praise—or was it an insult?—hung ambiguously.
I smirked at their awe.
"Just basic scam skills."
After toppling a nation, one person is nothing.
Edward wouldn't believe the fortune cookie prophecies anymore.
Instead, he'd spread the 'truth' I crafted.
Yes. He wouldn't die pathetically swept up in a ghost story. He'd become the fool, enjoying a ridiculous school life as the clown.
This is my answer.
This tale wouldn't end in the tragedy the ghost story prepared.
It would close as a ridiculous comedy.
Thus, the Paranormal Investigation Club's first request came to an end.
The club's notoriety rose within the academy.