Got Dropped Into A Ghost Story Still Gotta Work Chapter 198

[ … words ]

People from the village gathered.

[He has come, the blessing of Jisan!]

The shouting from the person with the megaphone grew louder, and before

long, the singing and janggu (Korean traditional drum) sounds picked up

again with force.

A swirling crowd.

“This way!”

I followed Agent Cheongdong into the crowd, trying to hide from the

villagers—but it wasn’t enough.

“Whoa, amazing.”

“Is that the person who gets the golden rooster?”

People who still hadn’t grasped the situation whispered in awe. Villagers who had thrown everything aside rushed toward me, some bowing deeply,

others praying toward the mountain. Somewhere amid all this, Baek Saheon

vanished.

And then—

“Run.”

Cheongdong pushed Eung-haje Daeri and me behind him and stood against the villagers.

“Calm down. At this point, there’s a high chance I won’t be able to leave ‘safely.'”

“…!”

“And it was clearly written in the rulebook.”

We locked eyes.

“What to do in this kind of situation.”

While conducting rescue operations, sometimes an agent is caught by a villager.

However, unless it’s the final day of the festival, don’t rush in or confront

the whole village.

You can re-enter the village at any time during the festival. That means, you can come back better prepared.

Don’t lose a valuable opportunity to emotions or chaos—act wisely and decisively.

Whether the captured, the ones left behind, or those who will carry out the rescue—everyone must escape alive. “Go.”

“….”

“Go, figure out how to get me out of here, and come back. That’s my only chance.”

Cheongdong’s eyes showed fierce conflict—emotion versus reason.

But soon, reason won.

“Tomorrow.”

“….”

“I will return without fail.”

I took the five-colored sneaker string Cheongdong handed me and stored it in my inventory tattoo.

A card to use if I needed to escape—at the risk of going missing or presumed dead.

Then Cheongdong dashed through the crowd at terrifying speed toward the exit.

“He has come, the blessing of Jisan!”

At the same time, the villagers overwhelmed me.

I blinked.

It seemed I’d blacked out for a moment.

When I came to, I was lying on an old-fashioned, wide wooden floor.

A square room, with paper doors on two sides.

“….”

I’d seen a similar structure recently.

‘That tile-roofed house.’

Deputy Eung-haje was nowhere to be seen. …It seemed he hadn’t been

captured with me.

That was a relief.

‘….’

I looked down at my legs.

Both were bound with gold thread.

The gold rope extended through a hole in the door toward the outside.

When I pulled lightly, there was resistance—it was secured.

‘They’re not messing around.’

Just then—

Rattle.

The paper door slid open and people entered.

No, two people.

One carried a tray of festival food, the other a bottle of alcohol. Both bowed deeply to me and set the offerings down neatly. Music began faintly in the distance.

A frenzied celebration was likely unfolding outside, all through the night.

“….”

They drew from a small lottery box. One drew a stick with a rooster feather —he stayed while the other bowed and left.

The one who remained had carried the alcohol.

“Saheon.”

“….”

The villager who had brought the alcohol—Baek Saheon—looked at me.

The likely suspect for why I’d suddenly drawn the special prize.

“Did you make me draw the ‘special prize’ from your pocket on purpose

last night?”

—Check my pocket.

He’d guided me naturally in that direction.

Yesterday I’d drawn a dud, and this time suddenly got the prize. That odd action was the only suspicious part.

“You made me seem like someone who had already drawn the special prize… to make me ‘fit.'”

“….”

“So you could steer me into drawing it the next day.”

A flicker of satisfaction passed through Baek Saheon’s eyes.

He spoke in a raspy voice.

“If that’s true?”

“You’ve been planning this for a while.”

“….”

“To guess it might work, to wonder what would happen if no agents came to rescue you.”

A twisted smile spread across his lips.

“That’s right.”

Relief.

Madness.

“I thought about it every day. What I’d do if I got chosen. I didn’t want to end up like that. Every time I slept in this cursed house, every time someone died—even when my sister died!” He spat the words out like venom.

“I swore I wouldn’t end up like that. Damn it, if I die, screw God or whatever—”

“God?”

Baek Saheon inhaled sharply. There was both anxiety and perverse delight in saying the forbidden.

“This holiday festival… it’s about worshiping a god, isn’t it?” “Worship? No!!”

He shouted like a scream.

“This is a ritual to create a god!”

“…!”

“They pick an auspicious date, make it a holiday, select someone with the

prize stick, enshrine them at the Seonangdang shrine to become Jisan’s

Blessing—the god who will free us from worldly truths. And they actually

believe this madness!”

“Is that even possible?”

“I don’t know! But…”

He panted.

“There really is… something here.”

“….”

“If no outsider wins the special prize, we draw again with the leftover sticks

every day. If someone’s chosen…”

His face hardened.

“When the final festival day ends, they put a hood over their head and drag them to the shrine like livestock.”

“….”

“And there, they do something.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t. But there’s something there…” His face turned pale.

“When they come out in the morning, their expressions are different. They stop talking. They help prepare for the next year’s festival.”

“….”

“And when the holiday ends, they hang themselves in the shrine.” …!

“But they appear again at the next festival. Even though they died—they come back. They walk out of the shrine.” He wailed.

“AND PLAY MUSIC!!”

“…!”

“They’re doing it right now! Outside!”

Hiyahhhhhhh!!

“I won’t let that happen to me. I won’t die. Never.”

His eyes burned with terror, rage, and the desperate will to live. And then they cooled—calculating.

“Now that you’re chosen, the festival and drawing are over. I don’t have to come back. I’m free from Jisan Village. No more being trapped.”

….

“I see.”

I nodded.

Baek Saheon muttered.

“You’re an insider now, so you can talk freely too, huh? Ha… I used to think people who blurted this crap were idiots. But now… I get it.” He seemed more confused than relieved.

Funny. I understood what he was feeling better than he did.

‘….’

I should be angry. Or panicked.

This bastard Baek Saheon pushed me in as a sacrifice, just to save himself. I came to rescue him, and he couldn’t, so he used me instead.

I should be furious, feel betrayed, stressed out, frantically thinking of an escape plan.

That would make sense.

But strangely—I feel calm.

That peculiar relief of not needing to worry about anything else.

‘Since I’m trapped, I don’t need to think about anything else.’

No more wish tickets, Ho Director’s restrictions, or info I have to find within the month. No need to worry how to treat the agent who’s been found out.

‘Literal escapism, huh.’

It’s absurd to find peace in the threat of death.

But it’s true.

So I could say this without anger or sympathy: “I see. I understand.” “Understand?”

Wariness returned to his gaze.

“Are you going to say ‘how pitiful, I understand’ just to get me to free you?”

“Maybe. But… living each day in fear, with no peace of mind—that, I understand.”

He looked at me blankly.

“You picked the better of the two agents, at least.” “Why? You want to die?”

….

“Maybe a little?”

I’m not sure right now.

“Haven’t you ever wanted to die? Not even once?” “….”

“You have, haven’t you.”

“Never.”

He blurted it out.

“I don’t want to die. If you do, then great. Just stay there and die.” “….”

Oddly, he wasn’t mocking me.

Not enjoying this turn of events. Not smiling.

Just overflowing with the selfish desperation to live.

‘That’s always been his way.’

Desperately clinging to survival. Never once did he show guilt, but not because he was cruel. He had no room for guilt. ‘That’s why… he might be usable.’

If he isn’t a sadist, if he doesn’t enjoy others’ pain… then there’s another approach.

I opened my mouth.

“Mr. Saheon. If there’s a way for us both to live, would you help?”

“…What?”

“It would be harder than now. And you’d have to risk exposure.” “You think I’d do that? You’re insane.” Just then—

—My God, enough! The drama is excessive! How can he be this rude!

—Ah, friend. So many lately repay your kindness with betrayal! Even

Braun finds this upsetting.

…The plushie spoke again.

—I’ll help. Let’s get out of here.

—Then let’s show them what karma really is. That’ll be exhilarating.

….

‘Nah. I’ll do it alone. Won’t that be more fun?’

—Well… It’d flow better with help, but…

‘It’s fine.’

I ended the conversation with the plushie and looked back at Baek Saheon. I hadn’t expected anything, so I could say this calmly: “But Mr. Saheon. If I die, it’ll be because of you.”

“….”

“I came to rescue you. You pushed me into this role. That’s why I’ll die.”

“Why is that my fault?”

His face twisted.

“Did I tell them to kill whoever draws the special prize? Did I throw anyone into the shrine? That’s someone else! So I’m just supposed to die?! That….”

Blaspheming draws curses.

“…!!”

We both turned to the paper doors.

Muttering voices.

Blasphemy draws curses. Blasphemy draws curses. Blasphemy draws curses. Forgetters vanish. Forgetters vanish. Forgetters vanish. May the fragmented blessing of the white mountain descend upon the agent… Ringing sound.

Baek Saheon looked at the paper door, pale.

There was nothing there, yet the sound of the music troupe grew louder.

“Mr. Saheon.”

“No.”

He scurried to the other side of the room, curled up, and covered his head.

Unbelievable helplessness, from someone who usually acted without fear.

‘A trauma response?’

Maybe this would work.

I paused, then said to the door:

“I’m sorry. I cursed in panic.”

The sound stopped.

“That was rude during a festival. I’ll try to speak more politely.”

The door stayed still.

And then—

Hiyahhhhh!

The music started again, gradually fading into the festival noise.

“….”

“….”

“Mr. Saheon.”

He stood, drenched in cold sweat.

Then looked at me in confusion.

“I just saved your life again.”

“….”

“Don’t you feel the slightest bit thankful?”

“Do you want me to die for you in return?”

“You make it sound like saying thanks costs your life.” He looked at me like I was crazy.

“Fine. Do what you want. You seem to value your life highly.” I looked down at my feet.

“But so do I. Even though I sometimes think about dying.” “….”

“….”

Long silence.

Then Baek Saheon spoke.

“What exactly is this way for both of us to live?”

“….”

“What is it?”

I reached into my pocket and rolled the silver badge inside.

Silver Heart.

“It’s simple.”

Listening to Baek Saheon, I realized what kind of tale this was.

“We’ll plant doubt in their belief.”

A ritual to create a god, liberation from worldly truths, coincidence disguised as fate, a sacrifice rite shared by a few, the return of the dead… It all pointed to one thing.

This was a tale under the Nameless Radiant Church.