Fired and Reborn as the Ghost Story Merchant
"Don't come back starting tomorrow."
The boss spat out his half-chewed squid without even looking at me. It was a dismissive wave, like swatting a fly.
"Suddenly...?"
"Ah, my cousin's little brother just got discharged from the military and he's begging me to find him a spot. It's not because you're bad at your job, so don't feel hard done by."
Don't feel hard done by, my ass. If you weren't pissed in a situation like this, you'd be a saint, not a human. But I bit my lip. I'm just a little guy. The kind who worries about next month's credit card bill right now. I was never born with the guts to grab the boss by the collar.
"...Understood. Thank you for everything up until now."
"Yeah. I'll deposit your final pay tomorrow. Get going."
I bowed my head like I'd been trained to do. My 90-degree hunch looked utterly pathetic. From behind me came the sound of the boss chuckling into a phone call with someone.
The night air felt heavy. In my hand was a black plastic bag holding two discarded lunchboxes. This was my dinner tonight.
"Ha... life."
I looked up at the night sky. It was murky, without a single star. Just like my future.
Stumbling along, I reached a crosswalk. The light was red. A dump truck barreled down the road with a roar.
That's when it happened.
Thud, thud, thud.
A ball rolled out into the street. A kid chased after it, darting into the road. Five years old, maybe? Just your average child you could see anywhere.
"Huh?"
No time to think. My body reacted on instinct, like always. I tossed the plastic bag and leaped into the road.
The truck's headlights bleached my vision white.
Not too late.
The moment my hand grabbed the kid's shoulder—
Whoosh—!
"...Huh?"
Something was off with my senses. I'd clearly grabbed the kid's shoulder, but there was nothing in my grip. Like squeezing cold vapor, my hand passed straight through the kid's body.
Swish.
In that brief instant as my hand sliced empty air, the kid turned to look at me. He grinned innocently, like nothing was wrong.
It wasn't human.
What the hell is this...?
BAM—!!
A bone-crushing impact pulverized my body, flipping the world upside down. Hot liquid gushed over me as I slammed into the asphalt. In that moment, I knew.
Ah, I'm dying.
Through my fading vision, I saw the "kid" I'd tried to save. He stood safely across the road, looking down at my mangled, bloodied corpse.
When I opened my eyes, the world was ash-gray. Gray sky, gray ground. And there I stood in the middle of it.
I looked down at my body. It was translucent. The battered flesh torn apart by the truck was gone, leaving only a faint silhouette.
Is this... a ghost?
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. What a dog's death. Dying to save an illusion. I was too bitter even for tears.
[You get one chance.]
A metallic, scraping voice echoed in my head from somewhere.
Wh-who's there?
[Do you want to live?]
What?
[You're dead. In 5 minutes, you'll lose your sense of self and become a wandering wraith forever.]
A chill ran down my spine. Wandering without memories or a name?
Pl-please save me. I want to live. I shouted like I'd been trained to. Pride is for the living.
[Good. Then make the contract.]
[Sell 'goods' in my stead. I'll restore your body and extend your life.]
Goods? What kind of goods? Is this some multi-level marketing scheme...?
[No more chit-chat. Choose. Time's running out. 3... 2...]
No time to think.
"I'll do it! Contract! I accept the contract!"
In that instant—
Crack.
A fissure split the gray sky, and a black-red bolt of lightning speared into my skull.
[Contract established.]
A mechanical chime rang out as a translucent blue window popped up before my eyes.
Ding.
Business Begins
📍 You are a merchant who deals in ghost stories.
📍 Find dungeon boss monsters and sell them ghost stories.
My jaw dropped as I read the text.
Ghost Story Merchant? Sell ghost stories to boss monsters?
...What the hell is this bullshit?