Chapter 28

... Let's review what I need to keep in mind on this ghost-story assignment with Team A.

Conditions

1. Must not let them discover I'm a coward.

2. Must not let them discover I already know the walkthrough.

3. Must survive workplace bullying from an uncooperative team leader.

'Just kill me already.'

I think that's the thing I've muttered to myself most often since joining this company.

But what choice did I have? This was my first time entering a ghost story with a superior who wanted me to get screwed!

'A fresh new hell every day...'

And the other one was a work-above-all-else superior who would dump me in a Cleanup Team the instant she learned I was a coward...

In short, I'd entered a ghost story accompanied exclusively by people who would hinder my survival.

'So my only option really is to scrape together points and escape this place with a Wish Coupon.'

Worse, the ghost story we'd entered was confusing enough to make me break out in a sweat.

"What do you make of this place?"

"... It looks like an abandoned factory."

A dark abandoned factory that smelled of oil.

Did they have any idea how many ghost stories in <Records of Dark Exploration> featured abandoned factories?? Dozens upon dozens, at least.

And there had to be even more that included abandoned factories among randomly changing locations!

I'd planned to quickly enter the identification code and search <Records of Dark Exploration> as soon as I got away from the two Team A members, but they wouldn't give me a moment alone.

'Th-they're watching me like I'm under surveillance.'

My two superiors from Team A walked slowly along, glancing at me as though waiting for me to make a mistake...

I broke into a cold sweat.

'I don't have a single cooperative companion—'

"My friend?"

"...!"

"Oh! Another location. Hmm, though it hardly looks suitable for filming! As filthy as a mangy donkey! Wouldn't you agree?"

I snapped my gaze downward.

The words were coming from the Good Friend keychain in my pocket.

Braun!

'There is someone willing to help!'

W-wait. But if you talk that openly with two Team A superiors right beside me...

"Oh dear, are you worried someone might interfere with our precious friendship? Not a problem! Those who aren't my friends have no right to hear my voice!"

Whew.

Did that mean other people couldn't hear him?

'Come to think of it, there were definitely records of a Close Friend that spoke only to its owner.'

And hadn't it said they could keenly read the other person's mood and surface thoughts?

A little reassured, I patted my pocket.

"Haha, that tickles a little!"

I could cry.

To think a monster from a ghost story was my source of emotional comfort...

"Team Leader. There's a door over there."

"So there is. Soleum, why don't you open it?"

"..."

"Soleum?"

"Yes."

I immediately walked toward the rusty door ahead, swallowing a scream.

Singling me out without even giving me the manual—he wasn't even trying to hide the bullying!

"Oh dear... Mr. Roe Deer, you seem to be struggling. A question of stamina?"

I shook my head, just slightly enough not to be noticed.

"Then is it the filthy surroundings?"

I shook my head again.

"Aha, then your companions must not be a particularly good match for you!"

That was true.

This really was exhausting. This rotten ghost-story universe, and the workplace bullying...

"Bad people bullying my friend?"

I shook my head over and over and over.

"Oh, understood. Sometimes people simply don't get along, like the same poles of a magnet! Keep your spirits up and press onward, my friend!"

My stomach began to hurt.

'And I have to juggle all this to keep a stuffed doll from going on a rampage.'

Was this really my life?

Tormented by fear and stomach pain, I barely managed to grasp the iron door's handle without shaking.

CREEEAK.

The rusty iron door opened to reveal... the factory floor.

The place was full of dusty canned goods and boxes, its operations apparently halted. Rotten contents oozed from split cans of beef.

But something else made a stronger impression.

A pungent metallic smell.

And... a corpse sprawled on the floor.

"..."

W-wait a minute.

"See that? There's a body over there."

"... Yes."

"Soleum, go search it."

"Yes."

Aaaaaaagh!!

It was mortifying to admit that the only reason I wasn't collapsing to the floor and bawling was the comforting warmth of a keychain doll.

'Abandoned factory... corpse, abandoned factory, corpse...'

I sifted through the <Records of Dark Exploration> wiki in my head and approached the corpse, barely managing not to scream.

The body lay facedown across a rail, wearing a suit.

An adult man, bleeding from the back of his head.

Perhaps because he was around my age and wearing a suit, he looked somehow familiar.

'I'm going to lose my mind.'

There was no way I could touch it myself...! Without even pausing to breathe, I summoned my Exclusive Equipment and floated a hand through the air to examine the body from various angles.

I was so, so grateful this thing transmitted pain but not touch.

"... Male, approximately in the upper 170s to lower 180s in height, in centimeters. Wearing a suit. Bleeding is confined to the back of the head. He appears to have been struck hard with something at least ten centimeters in diameter."

"Hmm. Not bad. Now turn him over."

"Yes."

Kim Soleum will remember this...

Inwardly glaring at Team A's leader with all my might, I fought down my nausea and just barely managed to flip the body over.

Its face came into view, eyes closed.

It was...

My own face, bleeding.

"..."

Fck, fck!!

These goddamn ghost stories, seriously!!

"Oh, he looks exactly like you, Soleum. A trap, perhaps?"

"Team Leader, perhaps it's time to at least explain the basics of the manual..."

"Ah, yes. I suppose so?"

Team A's leader looked at me appraisingly, then slowly spoke as though doing me a favor.

"Soleum, we're inside a story."

"..."

"Proceed as though you've entered a novel or a film."

I already knew that.

The moment I saw my own corpse, I'd realized.

Which Darkness this was.

* * *

Records of Dark Exploration / Ghost Stories

[The Day I Died]

: A ghost story appearing in <Records of Dark Exploration>. Daydream Inc. identification code: Qterw-C-402.

A ghost story in which people are drawn into an unsuccessful thriller/mystery story and become its victims.

The first witness invariably discovers their own corpse, already murdered.

A total of 25 explorations have been recorded.

* * *

This ghost story was practically designed to give you a mental breakdown.

'This is... a potato. A potato.'

Doing my utmost to brainwash myself, I tried to look away from the corpse-shaped thing...

"Don't use your Exclusive Equipment. Examine it yourself. Take a good, close look at every inch..."

Are you kidding me?

"I can't do that."

I answered without taking a breath.

The eyes behind the mallard mask narrowed.

"... Hmm?"

O-oh, crap.

Talking back to a superior who already disliked me, while I was being bullied at work?

'I-I have to salvage this!'

Once again, instinct took over, and I smoothly added a line.

... A tried-and-tested routine I'd used once before.

"There's a faster way to escape."

Again?

We're going down this road again...!

* * *

A new working condition had been added.

Conditions

1. Must not let them discover I'm a coward.

2. Must not let them discover I already know the walkthrough.

3. Must survive workplace bullying from an uncooperative team leader.

4. Must do a speedrun. (new!)

... Still, one fortunate thing was that seeing my own corpse had let me identify this ghost story for certain.

'And the standard walkthrough for this one is... this.'

* * *

Success is achieved by reconstructing the story so that the victim does not die.

* * *

In this ghost story, time moved backward as you explored the location.

Normally, that meant searching the entire factory, deducing and analyzing each step of what had happened to figure out why "my corpse" had died.

* * *

If the story is not altered within the time limit, the victim's death becomes certain.

* * *

You were supposed to spend half a day in a desperate, nerve-racking investigation, racing against time to avert one person's guaranteed death...

'Hmm. My stomach would dissolve before then.'

My digestive system wouldn't hold out.

If there wasn't a shortcut, I'd have to make one. Help me, Exploration Records!

With 25 recorded explorations, surely the writers had included some strange, unconventional entries to break out of their creative rut. Something I could use as a hint!

I rapidly flipped through the records in my head.

'Let's see, an account unusual enough to use as a reference...'

* * *

Exploration Record #21

Deputy Han Soeun and two others deployed.

Immediately upon entering a Darkness in the form of an abandoned mountain lodge, the employees recognized the work in question.

It was a film that had been a major box-office failure, but had become famous online as a joke after turning into a meme.

Responses included derisive laughter, reenactments of memes, guffawing, and disparaging spoilers.

Result: The location suddenly collapsed, transporting them into a different work (subsequent record: Exploration Record #22). Witnesses reported hearing crying.

Good grief, is this some kind of ghost of a failed director? Even the fragile ego is a perfect match.

–Researcher Kwak Jegang

* * *

Oh.

"... Section Chief, Deputy, could you give me just ten minutes?"

"Hmm, all right."

First, don't give my superior any opportunity to step in.

Who knew what interference the workplace bullying might produce? As petty and rotten as it was, I had to do this myself...

'... Better hurry before I throw up and scream.'

Using my Exclusive Equipment, I quickly rechecked the shape of the sticky depression in the back of the corpse's head (aaaaagh). Then I checked its footprints and the bloodstains nearby...

"Why insist on using your Exclusive Equipment when you've got hands?"

"Because handling the evidence directly could damage it. I felt this was the proper approach to preserve the scene."

I hadn't known I had a talent for rapid-fire rap.

"Evidence? You sound like you're in a detective novel."

"It's not quite deduction, merely a simple conjecture. And..."

I stood up.

"I've found it."

"Huh?"

"The answer."

I immediately searched the area. Remotely, with my Exclusive Equipment, of course.

Let's see.

Somewhere cleverly concealed in shadow, but not completely hidden, where your eyes could easily pass over it...

'Found it.'

I retrieved a cylindrical object from a musty corner beneath a shelf.

"That's... a food can, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Hmm, but there are food cans everywhere."

Yes. This appeared to be an abandoned cannery, after all.

But there was one difference.

The can I'd picked up had a bloodstain on a slightly dented corner.

The classic "hidden in plain sight" cliché.

"Oho, Mr. Roe Deer! If this were a detective drama, that would be the decisive evidence. Its shape matches the wound on the head perfectly."

Exactly.

"It's approximately the same size as the indentation in the wound at the back of the head."

"Ah, how typical. An ordinary background object we overlooked was the murder weapon! A properly story-like structure..."

Yes, yes.

At any rate, Team A's deputy seemed to understand immediately and nodded.

"Then that must be the murder weap—"

THUD.

I dropped the suspected "murder weapon" on the floor.

Then crushed it with a hard kick.

"...??"

"...????"

"?!??!"

"Oh."

I tilted my head.

"Something this flimsy couldn't possibly have caved in the back of a human skull... Hmm. How strange. It doesn't add up."

RATTLE.

For an instant, the space trembled ever so slightly.

"But it certainly looks as though he was struck with a food can!"

Exactly my point.

I nodded as though something had just occurred to me.

"Ah... this can is aluminum."

"What about it?"

"Food cans are usually made of steel."

I frowned.

"Why use aluminum for a food can, when it's what you'd expect in a beverage can...? Hmm, could it be..."

"How intriguing..."

I deliberately paused a beat before speaking.

"A research failure?"

CRACK.

At that moment, the cans around me began to tremble faintly.

But I ignored them and continued talking to myself.

"I suppose it's possible. People encounter beverage cans more often than food cans, so someone might unconsciously picture a beverage can and mistakenly specify aluminum as the material..."

"Oho..."

But.

I stopped speaking and gave a disbelieving laugh.

"Nah, surely not."

"... Soleum?"

"Anyone could find that out with a single search. Surely they wouldn't put so little effort into crafting a story. The trick is the very heart of a mystery. They're not an idiot."

"Hahaha!"

"Come to think of it, isn't a murder with a food can in a cannery far too obvious a setup?"

I did mean that part, a little.

"There's nothing fresh about it, no twist... Surely no author would write this and consider it a clever trick. Not a creator with any taste."

"Oh, I agree!"

The space began to shake violently.

"Honestly, it's so terrible..."

I finished in an indifferent tone.

"Even amateurs don't write like this these days."

THUMP.

After a moment of silence...

POP-POP-POP-BOOM!!

Cans began bursting all around us.

"Wh-what's going on?!"

Where the cans struck, the space melted away as though streaming with tears.

Then it vanished.

Just before everything disappeared, someone's scream rang out, followed by the mournful sound of sobbing...

And the next instant,

We were standing in that luxurious reception lounge on the company's fifteenth floor.

Covered in the contents of the cans.

"..."

"..."

"We're... out."

For the first time, Team A's leader lost his composure and stumbled over his words.

"The Darkness let us... why?"

Wiping the remnants of exploded canned beef off my face, I answered stoically.

"It had a breakdown."

* * *

After escaping the ghost story containing my corpse.

We washed in the showers adjoining the office, thoroughly removing the canned beef that had covered us from head to toe, then gathered again in the reception lounge.

"Really... They said your specialty was fast clears without a manual. You live up to your reputation."

"You're too kind."

"This isn't the time for modesty, Soleum."

After checking that the Dream Essence Collector had filled with yellow liquid as normal, Team A's leader turned to me.

I could see admiration in his eyes.

"How did you arrive at that result?"

Yes. I knew you'd ask that.

I clasped my hands behind my back and assumed a presenter's crisp posture.

A defensive measure in case my superior resumed his workplace bullying and started picking holes in my explanation.

"I followed a standard process of deduction."

"Hmm."

"First... since you kept having me observe the corpse and examine the surroundings, I surmised that the corpse was the key to escaping."

Of course, he'd probably only been doing it to torment me, but it was all in how you framed it.

"And since you said this was a story, it would be a story in which someone ends up dead... In other words, a film or novel about a murder. I therefore surmised that preventing my death would be the standard method of clearing it, but..."

I shrugged.

"That would take too long."

"...?!"

"You went to the trouble of inviting me, so I wanted to resolve it before noon if possible."

Team A's leader was looking at me with an expression that said, What the hell are you talking about, rookie?

But you'd prefer a lunatic to a coward too, wouldn't you, Section Chief!

"So I found a shortcut."

"How?"

"There were clues."

I looked at the two of them.

"Your actions."

"...!"

"You'd both read the manual, after all. So your actions kept providing clues."

Like encouraging me to examine the corpse.

'If that was an intentional hint, there were unintentional ones too.'

I recalled the most decisive part.

["So there is. Soleum, why don't you open it?"]

["Soleum?"]

"You called me by my real name even after we entered the Darkness."

"...!"

Normally, there was a firm recommendation to use mask-based aliases rather than real names inside ghost stories.

They could be used against you.

Yet Team A's leader had called me "Soleum," not "Roe Deer."

For someone far more experienced than me, and on an Elite Team, there could only be one reason.

He already knew it was safe.

"That meant there was no intelligent entity in this Darkness that could hear my real name and use it to harm me."

It also meant there was no other supernatural interference apart from my death, which had already occurred.

After explaining that as well, I continued.

"That gave me more room to maneuver... So I wondered whether I could take a more aggressive approach and dismantle the story by attacking the story itself."

"...??"

"You... thought of that?"

"Yes. A story means nothing once its foundations collapse."

I nodded.

"So I criticized its plausibility, brought the story down, and escaped. That concludes my explanation."

"..."

"..."

My superiors looked oddly dazed.

"... You deduced all that, all of that, not just from the surroundings, but from our conversations and actions...?"

"That's correct."

It wasn't.

I'd actually used an exploration record as my model.

The location suddenly collapsed, transporting them into a different work (subsequent record: Exploration Record #22). Witnesses reported hearing crying.

Simply mocking a work that had become a meme had shattered its composure enough for it to reconstruct the story.

So I'd figured that if I methodically pointed out its factual errors and trampled on its self-esteem as a creator, it might disappear entirely, new work and all.

'And it worked.'

Hooray.

But Team A's leader looked at me, then slowly spoke.

"You make it sound... very easy, Soleum."

Oh.

"W-well, it certainly isn't the standard method. You could call it a workaround."

Had I offended him?

I worked hard to lay the groundwork, then bowed my head as though contrite.

That should look genuine enough, right?

"Still, I will accept any reprimand."

Yes. Please just yell at me and let it end there.

I meekly awaited Workplace Bullying Mark II.

But...

CLAP, CLAP, CLAP...

I heard applause.

When I raised my head, I saw that Team A's leader had removed his mallard mask. His eyes shone with surprise and satisfaction.

"You follow regulations and orders. But you aren't fussy about your methods."

Pardon?

"Very good. That's exactly the kind of person we're looking for."

Me?

"Soleum. You've passed."

"What—"

"There's a vacancy on Team A, isn't there?"

At that moment, I realized.

'Oh.'

This hadn't been workplace bullying.

It had been a test.

"I'd like you to fill that position officially, Soleum."

"...!!"

Good lord.

This had been a recruitment pitch for Team A!