Possession
How should I make my plans?
If I keep smoothly collecting and selling ghost stories like this, the lifespan problem will be solved. But when your back's warm and your belly's full, people naturally slack off. A life of complacency. Is that really what I wanted?
That's when the Boss's voice echoed in my head.
Starting slow from the bottom wouldn't be so bad, would it?
"......"
Your eyes changed when we talked about guilds earlier. That wasn't the look of someone who just wants to be a meat shield. Were you itching to build something up, maybe feel that thrill of growth?
...Maybe.
Did becoming a Ghost Story Merchant change me? Or was this potential always lurking inside me?
I don't know.
One thing's clear, though. I'm finding real satisfaction in these ghost stories.
Do whatever you want. Just don't slack off.
Grabbing a new Power now wouldn't be a bad idea either.
"You can give me more Powers!?"
The old you couldn't have handled it, but now? No problem.
"What kind of Power?"
Possession.
Take over one role on the stage of a ghost story you've collected or materialized. Not as an observer—as the actor himself.
"......!"
Hearing that, I pictured it. Me possessing one of the roles in a ghost story, facing off against hunters. Leading these clueless intruders straight to ruin.
...Scary.
A nobody like me having to do something so vicious. Truly tragic.
Hah, hypocrite.
The Boss's mocking laugh rang in my ears. I steadied my trembling heart and asked,
"So, how much?"
1,000 hours.
"......That's too expensive."
Not when you consider what it does.
"Fair enough......"
I quickly ran the numbers in my head. My current balance: about 1,500 hours. Pay 1,000, and I'm left with just over 500. Around three weeks. My hard-earned lifespan would be scraping bottom again.
My mouth felt dry and bitter.
But...
I'd signed a friendly contract with Serria. Hand over the department store ghost story, and I can replenish my time. The issue is when the Dungeon Festival starts. If it's tomorrow, great. But if it's months away?
I'd be sitting idle, burning through lifespan with no income.
Guess I'd have to deal with other dungeon masters then.
Or risk collecting more wild ghost stories. Either way, there's risk. To play it safe, I should hold off now.
Buy or don't. Decide already.
I bit my lip. Possession. A surefire weapon to cook hunters properly.
Life's all about the big swings anyway.
Desire swallowed reason. "......I'll buy it."
Transaction complete.
The moment the Boss spoke, a chill seeped into my body. At the same time, knowledge of how to use the Power flowed naturally into my mind.
"This is gonna get fun."
Hunter Association President's Office, Korea.
Thick smoke filled the ceiling. President Choi Sang-guk, buried deep in the leather sofa, stubbed out his cigarette.
"The Dungeon Festival is coming soon."
Secretary Kim, standing opposite, bowed his head. "Yes, President. The date is set."
Choi Sang-guk clicked his tongue. To civilians, the Dungeon Festival was just a time when monster activity spiked. The truth was different.
A massive spectacle for gods and demons to enjoy. A poorly kept secret among A-rank and higher hunters. The Association and major guilds secretly selected elite members in preparation.
"Our side wins again this time, right?"
"Of course. The guilds have their top forces on standby. If things follow the script, no variables."
Choi Sang-guk lit a fresh cigarette and spat out, "The problem's that damn 'entry restriction.'"
During the Dungeon Festival, strict rules applied—like game level caps. High-rank hunters couldn't enter low-rank dungeons. Absolute rules that kept even S-rank powerhouses like the president from directly controlling variables in low-rank dungeons.
No one liked watching the fire from across the river.
"Speaking of, that noisy broadcast lately. Ghost story showed up during a haunted house exploration, yeah?"
"Yes. A joint program by Archive TV and M Corp called 'Ghost Hunter.'"
Secretary Kim tapped his tablet PC, bringing up a screen. Clear footage played of terrified participants.
"It's been shut down by the Korea Communications Commission. But the video leaked online. Can't hide it anymore."
"What a fucked-up world. Now we gotta worry about ghost stories on top of monsters."
Choi Sang-guk let out a hollow laugh. He ash-flicked his cigarette into the tray, face twisting. "And ghost stories don't even talk back—that's the real issue."
Dungeons alone were manageable. Especially after interpretation magic let them communicate with dungeon masters. They could fake fights, put on a WWE-style show.
Ghost stories? No dialogue. Aberrant disasters existing solely to instill terror in humans.
"Headache."
Choi exhaled irritably, stroking his chin before eyeing Secretary Kim. "On another note, what's the situation on Jeju Island?"
"Not good. Korean resident population has dropped sharply."
"Why?"
"Hunters of unknown identity are operating systematically. Kidnapping Koreans and forcing them into dungeons. Holding families hostage to prevent reports."
Secretary Kim swiped the tablet. "Confirmed via National Intelligence Service channels. Black Dragon Society's doing."
"Purging Koreans entirely, turning Jeju into a Chinese-only zone."
Choi muttered low, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "But why are the Chinese so obsessed with Jeju?"
"......"
"Doesn't add up for just territory. Too aggressive for the payoff."
"I agree. Their fixation feels irrational for mere expansion."
Choi tilted his head, then asked as if it just occurred to him. "Hm. That dungeon you mentioned last time? The succubus one. Still there?"
"Yes, very much so. Even more grotesque now."
Secretary Kim's face hardened. "Black Dragon Society's shoving in hunters and civilians of all nationalities indiscriminately. Intel says they're using it as a slaughterhouse."
"Ho."
"But survival rate is 0%."
"......"
"Not just victims—even Black Dragon elites sent as overseers. Not one came back alive. No bodies either."
Secretary Kim swallowed dryly and continued. "Even weirder: the dungeon's rank. Remeasured multiple times, mana reaction still B-rank."
"A B-rank dungeon wiping veteran mercenaries."
Choi frowned. It defied logic. Three B-rank hunters could clear a B-rank dungeon. Five-man teams were standard for contingencies—overkill for safety.
Yet squads of over a dozen B-ranks entered and vanished. More followed, none returned. "High difficulty" didn't explain it.
"Might not be a standard dungeon type."
"Not standard?"
"Just speculation, but... possible a ghost story's nested inside."
Choi's eyebrow twitched. Secretary Kim pressed on calmly. "Not unprecedented. Recent D-rank in Gangwon Province had a ghost story appear. Low-grade, so on-site hunters took it down quick... but it proves it's possible."
"Hm, makes sense."
Choi nodded. Dungeon plus ghost story: a wildcard shredding old strategies. Explained the B-rank turning into a hunter graveyard.
"Contact the Anomaly Management Team."
Choi issued the order. "Dispatch investigators to Jeju immediately. Priority: figure out Black Dragon Society's game. Relay that."
"Understood. Though..."
Secretary Kim trailed off.
"They might interfere."
"Interfere?"
Choi's lip curled. He crushed his cigarette in the ashtray, growling. "Tell the Black Dragon branch chief clearly: this is official Association business. Any funny business with our agents, and the Hunter Association steps in personally."
Not a warning—a declaration of war from Korea's strongest force.
Secretary Kim bowed deeply. "Yes, President. I'll relay it."
He straightened formally and exited the office.