'The fear of possibly dying.'
Perhaps that's the essence of ghost stories.
Recently, I even experienced a government-managed Disaster where someone had to die for the scenario to be theoretically cleared. So, I've grown quite accustomed to the idea that "people usually die in ghost stories." I've even become a bit desensitized to it.
After all, I've managed to squeeze through the needle's eye and survive. – Let's figure out an escape route first, no matter how impossible it seems. This had become my default mindset over the past few months. But now…
"Initially, everyone disappeared. Only one headless corpse ever came back."
"..."
"But after a few repetitions, someone lucky enough managed to survive and return. Based on their testimony, we pieced together the manual." This was the standard process for completing a high-level exploration manual.
"But there was one thing we could never change."
That was…
"Someone always dies."
"..."
"The mechanism behind who gets chosen? There isn't one. No logic, no pattern. It's completely random. It's happened 37 times so far, and no matter what gear or items are brought in, it doesn't make any difference."
"..."
"And since the designation happens the moment you enter, there's no time to prepare or respond."
This situation was absurd.
Literally a game of chance, where I had a 1-in-12 chance of instant death. Including the rest of the squad, the odds were 1 in 3—absolutely ludicrous. Someone would just… die.
"You might think, 'Why not send someone expendable instead of a competent person like me'…"
"I didn't, ma'am."
"Really? Because I sure did."
"..."
"But we don't have a choice. This damned urban legend demands a challenger with a sharp mind to allow for a clear scenario resolution." In other words, we couldn't just throw away a sacrificial pawn. Assistant Manager Eun Haje smirked faintly.
"An 8.3% death rate in a B-class Darkness is actually quite reasonable."
"..."
It was true.
Think about the exhibition ghost story. That one didn't even have a manual, making it far worse. Even when manuals are complete, fatalities weren't uncommon.
But still…
"The idea of being trapped in that probability—it feels wrong. So unfair."
"..."
It wasn't unusual to feel that way.
The difference between dying without a chance to fight back and dying after at least trying is significant.
The former feels like slaughter. The latter, a challenge.
"…Does giving us three days mean it's to help us mentally prepare?"
"Most likely."
After three days, your mind cools down, and you start to think rationally and optimistically.
'Surely I won't be the one in 12?' That kind of thought process…
"Roe, this must be your first time facing a Darkness like this, right?"
"…Yes."
"Go grab a coffee. Get me one too while you're at it."
Taking the hint that I could take my time, I accepted Assistant Manager Eun Haje's card and headed out.
The coffee errand was probably just an excuse for some mental health management.
'This is driving me nuts.'
Now I was leaning back on a café sofa, an Americano in front of me. Fear? I wouldn't say that's the issue. I haven't not been scared since arriving here, so that's nothing new.
What I felt was unease.
'Information doesn't matter in this situation.'
Maybe it's because I realized how much I've relied on having clearer conditions than most employees. It left me with a strange sense of self-reproach. And an overwhelming sense of danger.
"..."
'Should I just quit?'
Wouldn't it be better to leave now and figure out another path? Investigating ghost stories independently using the manual as a guide…
– Ah, Friend!
– Why not consider a career in show business?
Excuse me??
– Oh, absolutely. There's always a spot for you in my world, my friend. Isn't that what friends are for? Hahaha!
I almost fell off the sofa.
'Hard pass.'
That snapped me out of it.
– What a shame…
Yes, in this world, there are plenty of fates worse than death. And investigating alone? Only an idiot would forget they're a coward and make such a foolish choice.
Quitting over a 1/12 chance of death would be stupid.
'But doing nothing about it would be equally idiotic.'
– So, are you going in?
'Yes.'
First, I needed to learn more about this ghost story.
I returned to the office with the takeout coffees for the squad and began thoroughly reading the tablet PC.
And…
'…Hah.'
It really was random.
The ghost story matched what I already knew from the manual, but the problem was that everything I had read was already documented in the manual.
'There's no new information.'
I didn't know anything that others didn't.
'No gaps to exploit.'
Even in the manual, the description blatantly stated, 'random upon entry'.
There were no exceptions or suspicious loopholes. It wasn't treated as particularly significant, probably because deaths in ghost stories were common enough to feel unremarkable.
And then…
"For this deployment, squad leaders are excluded. Only those ranked assistant manager or below will enter."
"..."
Chief Lizard wouldn't be accompanying us this time.
This was to prevent 'priority confusion' among staff if a squad leader were designated as the sacrifice due to their higher rank.
"None from the Round-Off Team or the elite squads would be included either. Last time they went in, it caused a huge mess."
Apparently, during one deployment, an elite squad member from the A, B, or C squads had been designated as the sacrifice. Their desperate attempts to avoid death ended up causing 'unnecessary casualties', taking down several other employees with them.
I didn't regret not being placed on the A-squad, but this company was as consistent as ever.
"Thank you for letting me know."
"Don't mention it."
Assistant Manager Eun seemed caught somewhere between resignation and irritation, finding solace in a cigarette as Supervisor Park joined him for a smoke break.
"Did you see the roster? The employees going in, too…"
"Yeah, honestly, I wouldn't even attend some of their funerals. Did they select the lowest-ranked based on personality or something?"
"Hey, at least we're not included!"
I kept comparing with the manual, desperately searching for something. A gap to slip through.
A small loophole in the rules.
And then, unexpectedly, that afternoon, a potential way to bypass the rules appeared.
Though it came in a slightly different form.
"Supervisor Kim!"
"Section Chief."
Section Chief Lee Byeongjin had come to find me. As the manual revisions officer, he wouldn't have come all this way just 'in passing'.
"I heard! You're going into that insane Russian roulette ghost story, aren't you?"
"..."
I had thought it before, but he truly had a knack for irritating people.
But Section Chief Lee wasn't here just to make a fuss.
After lowering his voice and ensuring no one else was around, he leaned in and spoke quietly.
"Why don't you talk to Director Ho about this?"
"...!"
"Apparently, the director's been impressed by your performance."
"Are you saying…"
I looked at him.
"…if I speak to the director, I'll be excluded from this?"
"Exactly!"
"..."
"Normally, these things are decided under the guise of fairness, but I'm against that. Someone as talented and promising as you shouldn't have to go. You're a top performer, after all!"
A legitimate escape route presented itself.
Getting an executive to intervene.
trigger warning: self harm, blood
I opened my mouth to respond.
"I'm alright."
"H-Huh?"
This was something I absolutely couldn't choose.
'It would draw too much attention.'
The moment I accepted that option, I would effectively be picking sides within the company.
And in a ghost story company, even the executives were unlikely to be ordinary people. Aligning myself with someone in a 'desperate, survival-driven manner' would be a terrible move.
Especially since this was a matter of life and death.
'The moment I'm excluded, rumors will spread like wildfire.'
Would they take it well? Not a chance.
It would be seen as selfishness.
In any community, earning recognition as a proper member requires sharing burdens. Trying to avoid that would…
'Get me completely ostracized.'
In the Field Exploration Team, where members must constantly operate in squads of three, actions like trying to exclude myself could wreak havoc on my workplace dynamics.
Unless a director intervened to quietly pull me out and later claimed credit for saving me, that wasn't going to happen.
The fact that this wasn't the case meant I wasn't 'important' enough to be singled out like that.
Or maybe…
'They believe luck is a kind of skill.'
In other words, it's a trap.
Even if it stung, the right move was to play it straight.
I spoke as if I were a principled stickler for rules.
"Making an exception for me would be preferential treatment. The company must have reasons for assigning work this way, so I'll take responsibility and follow through."
"Uhh…"
Section Chief Lee Byeongjin stammered, but after asking 'Are you sure?' several times, he finally relented and left.
Honestly…
I barely stopped myself from grabbing his pant leg and screaming, Yes, please save me!
'Let's just call this character build reinforcement.'
Because there's no other comfort to be had here.
I watched him leave with a bitter smile and returned to my desk.
'Let's review the manual again.'
But whether I looked at the manual or reread the manual, the result was the same— there were no loopholes.
There were no exceptions for any of the explorers.
'Every single one of them was subjected to the random selection…'
"..."
Wait.
'This… could this be a loophole?'
I couldn't be sure.
'It's just a possibility.'
But in this situation, it was worth trying any possibility, no matter how slim.
– Mr. Roe Deer, have you thought of something entertaining?
Not entertaining, but an idea nonetheless.
'Create an exception.'
– Hmm?
Every explorer who entered this ghost story was subjected to the 1/12 instant death lottery without exception.
But what if there was a shared condition unique to all explorers? Something that had never allowed for an exception before.
– What condition are you referring to?
...
'Being human.'
Both the manual and the records only mentioned humans as explorers. There were no accounts of other living creatures. But in this world, humans weren't the only sentient beings. If we include animals and plants, the possibilities become endless.
'What if a non-human being could avoid the judgment?'
Based on the irregular cases I'd read in the records, this seemed like the most plausible exception in the current situation.
– Mr. Roe Deer, do you wish to stop being human?
'N-No, that's not what I mean!'
Could he not throw out such pure-sounding yet ominous questions?
'I just want to be treated as not human for a little while.'
I carefully chose my words.
'Like putting on a disguise for a performance.'
– Hooh.
'Braun, is that something you could do for me?'
– Oh, absolutely!
Braun's voice became more vibrant and enthusiastic, as if he were preparing for a show.
– Adopting a new identity is an entertainer's calling. I have countless masks to offer… oh! I even have one that I could lend you right now. Jackpot.
'Let's try it.'
"Huuu."
I tore my gaze away from the manual and the records, leaned back in my chair.
Just then, Assistant Manager Eun and Supervisor Park returned from their smoke break, waving at me as they entered the office.
"..."
Ah, crap.
'Braun, about that "mask" ability… can it work on multiple people?'
– Multiple people? You mean people other than you, friend?
'Um, I mean, including myself.'
– …If I can regain a bit more of my former glory, it should be possible. Back in my prime, I could cast entire studio audiences—no, hundreds of people—into new roles!
Perfect.
'Braun.'
– Ah, my friend calls on me again!
I patted my pocket respectfully.
'Let's give you a bath.'
– ...?!
– Mr. Roe Deer, I appreciate the thought, but I'm not an occult-obsessed celebrity who would enjoy bathing in their friend's blood.
"I know."
Even if he was a quiz show host notorious for 'blowing up contestants' heads', Braun, as my 'good friend', was certainly someone I could afford not to doubt.
But there was no other way.
Even if I somehow procured blood packs from a hospital, the freshness would degrade, reducing their efficiency. I couldn't use someone else's blood, and bringing in a creature from a ghost story like last time wasn't an option.
'The leftover ginseng wouldn't work either since whatever made it sentient has already dissipated.'
That left the obvious choice.
My own blood.
I stared into the small, elegant, checkered bathtub. It still looked pristine and smelled pleasant, as when I had first bought from the Alien Shop. Now, I had to pour my blood into it.
"I probably can't give much. Maybe half a cup."
That would be about 180mL.
– Half a cup! A bit tight, but for the small, cotton-filled body I inhabit, it should suffice as a bath additive. Diluted, of course… No, no, this isn't right. Are you sure about this?
It's fine.
'I can do this.'
Taking a deep breath, I grabbed the kitchen knife.
Next to me was a vial of a wound-healing potion I had brought from the company's medical office.
"Huu."
I pricked the flesh of my arm with the upper part of the knife.
– Good heavens!
Blood began to flow, a steady stream indicating I'd struck an artery.
'Remember, I'm scared of creepy situations, not blood itself…'
This isn't creepy…!
I repeated the phrase like a mantra over and over, trying to calm myself. Eventually, the promised amount of blood—half a cup—had dripped into the tub.
'That should be enough.'
But I didn't stop the bleeding.
– Mr. Roe Deer?
A bit more.
– It seems sufficient, friend!
Just a bit more.
– Friend?
Okay, that's enough.
'Done.'
I quickly used the company's healing potion to stop the bleeding. Its magical effects sealed the arterial wound beautifully.
Though I felt a bit lightheaded from the blood loss, it wasn't a big issue.
'A recovery potion will fix that too.'
By the time I enter the ghost story in a couple of days, I'd be back to normal.
What mattered now was the fragrant aroma wafting from the tub.
"Huu…"
I leaned closer to inspect the tub, inhaling deeply as the pleasant scent tickled my nose.
It seemed my blood had done its job successfully.
'I must've given about 500mL.'
The mixture had transformed into a proper bath solution.
'…It smells like wood?'
The scent reminded me uncomfortably of that cursed forest ghost story, but at least it wasn't unpleasant or strange.
Nodding in satisfaction, I turned to Braun.
"You can get in now. How's the scent?"
– Ah, it's delightful. Quite unique, like your unpredictably whimsical decisions, Mr. Roe Deer!
I smirked.
"Was that sarcasm? Because I bled more than planned?"
– Sarcasm is a key trait of any successful talk show host! But I don't wield it indiscriminately.
"Thanks for your concern."
– ...
"I'll take care of my recovery. Don't worry. But I won't do this again."
– Now that's a wise declaration, Friend.
Is it?
To be honest, I did this deliberately.
Giving my 'good friend' a bit of a shock was my way of ensuring he'd feel reluctant about using my blood for baths in the future.
And it seemed to have worked.
'If I'd announced the real amount in advance, he might've just accepted it without a thought.'
And that wouldn't do.
'This has to be a one-time thing.'
I picked up Braun to place him in the tub, but once again, he declined.
– I shall walk in proudly on my own two feet.
Aigoo, go ahead.
I turned away from the tub, and soon heard the sound of footsteps and splashing water.
The bath had begun.
Then, after a short while…
– Roe Deer, this bath solution you've created…
– Hmm, it's rather peculiar!
Pardon me?