Containment cell for ghost story Qterw-C-348.
A place with red lighting illuminating a solitary chair.
“…….”
I stared straight ahead.
The wooden doll lay in the shadow beneath the chair.
In the half-dug-up dirt floor, the doll’s neck and arms twisted and stretched outward.
…I had clearly buried it completely under the dirt.
An instinctive fear welled up.
The fear was worse than when I first saw it. Because of last night.
‘Whew.’
Looking at the wooden doll ‘half-buried in the dirt’ like the ghost I witnessed, I wiped away cold sweat. Its appearance was as if….
‘…It looked like it had struggled to crawl out but ultimately failed to escape.’
As expected, burying it in the dirt was an effective action.
[Yes. You just need to bury it in the dirt again.]
Therefore, I intended to follow the researcher's instructions to the letter.
On top of that… I planned to do a little something extra.
“…….”
As I dug a new pit under the chair with both hands, I thought about this ghost story.
‘The reason I specifically buried this in the dirt on the first day was….’
Because of a certain element present in the <Dark Exploration Records> document, but absent from the doll in front of me now.
Identifiable as an entity of Qterw-C-2554 via the enclosed talisman.
Precisely, the talisman.
Specifically… the inscription written on it.
The talisman is severely damaged and covered in scribbles. After restoring and interpreting the inscriptions, it was determined that they contained the text for Sumang-gut, a ritual intended for drowning victims.
It was a crucial hint.
‘The fact that the talisman was enclosed in a damaged state… likely means it wasn't functioning properly, or it was contaminated and produced the wrong effect.’
A broken talisman. It was a ghost story cliché.
…I had actually experienced a similar case in a certain high school, too.
To put it the other way around….
‘Normally, the countermeasure would be to restore the talisman to its original state and perform the ritual.’
But if I did that, the Darkness would be ‘terminated.’
‘That’s the Disaster Management Bureau’s way. It’s not the Daydream way.’
This company ‘manages and operates’ Darknesses.
‘They must have guessed the countermeasure, but they wouldn't have used it.’
They didn't remove the talisman without a reason.
They were definitely looking for a way for an employee to ‘clear’ it without terminating it.
If that’s the case, my task was simple.
‘I just have to find the Daydream-style clearing method.’
Finding cases of people who survived relatively long after coming into contact with the doll, or rare cases of those who survived entirely.
However, more than half of those cases were too personal or lacked context.
For example, a survival case like this:
Visited a temple after contact with the doll. Two days later, took vows to become a Buddhist nun.
Confirmed that the explorer’s Saju (Four Pillars of Destiny) lacked the element of water.
I couldn't do anything with stuff like that.
‘It’s not like I can change my destiny, and I’m not in a position to take vows.’
In the first place, this doll was a ghost story that appeared in ‘various unstandardized forms.’ It was meant to use ambiguity to instill fear, revealing only vague tendencies rather than consistent rules.
So, I narrowed it down.
‘Categorize the Exploration Records.’
And find the one category of trends most certain for me.
The one I had already identified.
Confirmed that the text for a Sumang-gut, intended for drowning victims, was written on it.
Sumang-gut!
‘I just need to look closely at descriptions of cases where actions similar to the ritual procedures were performed.’
Actions that touched upon a similar context, though not enough to terminate the ghost story.
Of course, unlike some people, I wasn't a ritual specialist agent from the Disaster Management Bureau, so I didn’t know all the specific procedures or methods.
But the important point wasn't the fine details; it was the core element.
Thus, I pulled out two things.
First.
Burying the doll in the dirt in its original state.
Exploration Record #5
A civilian (male, 20s) who discovered the doll on the ■■ coast of Pohang experienced hallucinations after posting a discovery thread on the internet.
After visiting a shaman, he followed her advice and re-buried the doll in its original spot.
Found dead 41 days later. Mud, water, and ■■ were found around the mattress under the deceased’s bed.
Burying it in the dirt dramatically delayed the time.
‘I doubt that restoring it to its original state was what really mattered. Rather, the process itself was likely a type of gut ritual.’
It had influence in terms of context.
That’s why I mimicked that situation on the first day–to buy time.
And….
‘Finding the ritual.’
Performed a rite for the doll.
The exploration records where that phrase appeared.
‘Many people expected shamanic or superstitious methods to work.’
Even if they couldn't interpret the talisman, it was human nature to first visit a shaman or a temple.
‘What a person does after seeing hallucinations of a ghost is all similar.’
They burned joss paper, recited incantations, sought divine readings, performed rites, burned incense, or made mounds and poured alcohol.
But only a few of those were effective.
Specifically….
Seeking a divine reading.
Performing a rite.
Making a mound and pouring alcohol.
These three.
And these three had something in common.
Did you notice?
‘Food.’
Rice is thrown when seeking a divine reading.
A ritual table is set when performing a rite.
The alcohol poured after making a mound also counts as food.
‘In the end, the fundamental procedure of the Sumang-gut written on the talisman is….’
Treating them to a meal.
So I prepared it, too.
Rice and alcohol.
“…….”
I took out the instant rice and beer I had purchased at the commissary yesterday.
Then, I opened the instant rice’s lid and placed it in front of the pit I had pre-dug.
After taking a deep breath.
“…….”
The doll that had been half-buried under the chair….
I picked it up.
The doll was completely intact.
All the joints I had broken had re-attached, looking as if nothing had happened. However, I knew.
This wooden doll remembered me.
No,
This drowning victim.
Ha—
…I heard a breath near my ear.
Goosebumps erupted on my neck.
y l k c i u q e i d u o y s i h w i
Ignoring it, I moved the wooden doll. My hands trembled. Thud, I dropped the doll into the newly dug pit and covered it with dirt again. The dirt shook and spilled from my grip. I moved my hands quickly.
Finally, the moment it was completely covered and out of sight.
‘Done—’
Drip.
A cold drop of water fell on top of my head.
…….
…….
I raised my head.
A face hung from the ceiling above me.
y l k c i u q e i d u o y s i h w i e m o c
Drip, drip, drip-drip,
Moisture fell onto my face, and the stench of water was overwhelming. The mangled eyes, nose, and mouth opened wide as arms stretched out from both sides to grab me.
T h e m o u t h m o v e s.
y l k c i u q e i d u o y s i h w i
I s e e.
e r e h e m o c u o y e i d u o y h s i w i y l k c i u q o o t e r e h e m o c u o y e i d u o y h s i w i y l k c i u q o o t e r e h e m o c u o y e i d u o y h s i w i y l k c i u q o o t e r e h e m o c u o y e i d u o y h s i w i y l k c i u q o o t e r e h e m o c u o y e i d u o y h s i w i y l k c i u q o o t e r e h e m o c u o y e i d u o y h s i w i y l k c i u q o o t e r e h e m o c u o y e i d u o y h s i w i y l k c i u q o o t e r e h e m o c u o y e i d u o y h s i w i y l k c i u q o o t e r e h e m o c u o y e i d u o y h s i w i y l k c i u q o o t e r e h e m o c u o y e i d u o y h s i w i y l k c i u q o o t e r e h e m o c u o y e i d u o y h s i w i y l k c i u q o o t e r e h e m o c u o y e i d u o y h s i w i y l k c i u q o o t
Ah.
Ah.
I understood.
This was….
Ha—
I had been hearing it backwards….
Like a tape played in reverse, the upside-down mouth moved.
I l i s t e n
o o t
t o o
y l k c i u q
q u i c k l y
e i d u o y s i h w I
I w i s h y o u w o u l d d i e q u i c k l y
Flesh blocked the holes in my face.
o u y
y o u
e m o c
c o m e
e r e h-
h e r e.
“…….”
I shouldn't have understood.
I s h o u l d n ' t h a v e … u n d e r s t o o d … !
“Urgh,”
Something with a salty stench poured out of my mouth.
“Urrgh.”
Mud. Sticky clumps of dirt from deep beneath the salty seaside mixed with my saliva and splattered onto the floor below. No, was it saliva or breath? Was it breath or mucus?
Y o u c o m e h e r e
“Hieek,”
The pain of drowning, the fear, the coldness, the loneliness turned my mind deathly pale. It strangled my throat. I couldn't lower my head. I was caught. I barely managed to pull the beer can from my chest. My hands shook as if floundering in water, the can, the can…….
I opened it.
Tsch.
With a brief noise, the beer foam, shaken to its limit, overflowed over my fingers and spilled down.
Quickly
My vision shook. A face covered in flesh and hair touched my forehead. I couldn't lower my head, my hands trembled, and then…
I wish you would die
Without hesitation, I turned the can upside down and emptied it.
“…….”
Glug, glug.
I heard the sound of flowing.
It was from over the spot where I buried the doll, the sound of liquid—not water.
Alcohol.
“…….”
I lowered my head.
The drowning victim hanging its head from the ceiling had vanished.
All that remained was the interior of the containment cell, bathed in red light.
The chair, alone.
With only the empty instant rice container rolling beneath it.
…….
…….
“Whew,”
It worked.
‘I almost died….’
I almost passed out from pure fear.
I forced my body, about to collapse onto the floor, to stand up.
My legs were really shaking.
‘It’s been so long….’
This sensation of dipping my foot into hell and then escaping…!
[…Worker Z999?]
“…Yes.”
Right, they can't hear me.
[Worker Z999, can you look at the door and wave your hand?]
I gladly did so.
[No way…]
A faint trace of shock bled into the researcher's voice.
The oppressive, damp gloom of the containment cell weighing against my skin had vanished before I knew it, and I…
I was fine.
[Fo-for now, come out.]
I’d be happy to.
“Whew.”
After taking a deep breath, I headed toward the open containment cell door.
[You there, don't move! Stay still!]
As soon as I stepped out of the cell, a security guard came at the researcher's command and immediately confiscated the armband on my forearm.
‘Okay.’
After that, no one told me what was inside or what the outcome was.
However, I knew.
‘What I did was definitely a clear by the standards of the headquarters' Field Exploration team.’
It was qualitatively distinct from the other workers who only dipped their toes into a ghost story for a few hours each morning before leaving.
That’s why I was certain.
Wiping away cold sweat, I thought.
‘A C-Grade must have popped up.’
I’m confident that this was a grade that these workers—who were told nothing by the branch office and treated as disposable—would have almost no chance of discovering by accident.
I was certain.
And so, that afternoon.
[Worker Z999, you are being summoned.]
I was summoned before I could even finish lunch, and under a security guard’s escort, subjected to a researcher’s persistent questioning in a place called the ‘Worker Communication Room.’
They were mostly questions he was dying to turn into a manual.
To the questions that could be summarized as ‘Why on earth did you do that?’, I gave simple and clear answers.
Just because.
“Well… it looked like it was hungry, so I wanted to share some food….”
[…So you gave instant rice to a wooden doll, is that it?]
“Yes….”
There was no reason.
Just ‘I was hungry, so I thought it might be hungry, too.’
I heard the researcher grit his teeth at the story that the ghost looked hungry before he launched into persistent follow-up questions.
[Why did you bring beer?]
“I had to pay back the water debt… and they told me to pay it back double.”
[Pardon?]
In a tone devoid of intelligence, I conveyed the words of the two workers who had threatened me.
“Everyone seemed to like beer… so I thought the doll might like it, too.”
[…….]
Yes.
I was going to stick thoroughly to the concept that ‘none of this was intentional.’
As if the actions of a mentally feeble person coincidentally happened to align well.
And this was also a tricky yet interesting subject to handle for a ghost story researcher.
[So… you don't really know, it just worked, right?]
“Pardon? Yes….”
Precisely, luck.
An element handled carefully because it was difficult to measure.
Scientifically speaking, some might argue that it’s merely a statistical anomaly, but in the ghost story worldview, luck holds significance.
No, it might be the most necessary talent of all.
‘Lucky people have the most survival exploration cases.’
Because they frequently encounter situations that they cannot logically understand, they have to handle the situation by relying solely on luck.
And exceptionally lucky exploration cases were always staples of the Dark Exploration Records.
‘They’ll definitely want to research it.’
Even if that researcher, whom I only heard the voice of, was the type to only obsess over points with no particular interest in research, it was fine.
‘Because they’ll want to deploy me here and there to see if they can extract more high-grade Dream Essence.’
It meant they would think about using me for longer, which meant they would at least want to manage me a bit better.
Now, let's push them a little more here.
“Ugh….”
I deliberately emphasized that my physical condition alone was truly trash.
[If you're not feeling well, go to the infirmary.]
“I shouldn't spend money…. I have to save up….”
[Sigh….]
The researcher sighed, as if his frustration and annoyance were surging.
‘But the thing about autonomy is that once you refuse, that's the end of it.’
Yet, he probably didn't want to pay me money himself.
‘Looking at the state of this branch, he’d probably have to cover it out of his own pocket.’
I shouldn't expect that kind of act from a Daydream researcher’s personality.
Instead, other options would to come to mind.
For example… a way to maintain this ‘promising’ worker’s condition so he could keep working—something he could do arbitrarily without spending his own money.
[Go for now, Worker Z999.]
“Yes…?”
[Something good is going to happen later, so don't forget who to thank.]
Thus, that very evening.
“Uh….”
“Sp-Special Transfer?”
I escaped being Worker Z999.
Dinner time.
Just before entering the cafeteria, a notice was posted in the work area.
{Special Reassignment
Z999 -> Y492}
It was a half-hearted thing, printed on a piece of A4 paper, but its impact on me was undeniable.
“Worker Z999?”
“Isn't that the very last number?”
“Who is it?”
“You know, that weird bas… hieek!”
He’s right here.
The whispering, like ‘Didn't he die already?’, stopped instantly. And I felt gazes aimed towards me as if observing.
The specific gaze that looked down on something at the bottom of the social hierarchy— mocking, avoidant, seeing one as an easy target for frustration—changed slightly.
—How did he do it?
It could be summarized like that.
Doubt and a bit of confusion.
‘I think troublesome things are going to happen.’
Because I felt like as soon as these people came to their senses, they would loiter around for something to scavenge.
‘The two X-Grade guys are enough trouble….’
Following the image I had set, I quickly grabbed my food and ran away before these people could catch me as an easy target.
And during this process, I felt mildly moved.
‘Wow, crazy.’
For Y-Grade, there was a crude meal packaging service!
“Y492….”
Furthermore, the menu was even a bit touching.
‘It’s tonkatsu….’
Warm fried pork came out with white rice and radish kimchi.
Unlike the diet of a few anchovies with cold rice, the fact that normal food was being served was enough to bring tears to my eyes. The tonkatsu looked like a mass-produced one fried at a rest stop, but even that was something.
I carefully accepted the food as if it were precious and bolted to the breakroom. I got there fast enough that those eyeing the situation didn't have a chance to follow.
“Whew.”
Success for now.
For the record, the sticker on my neck hadn’t been replaced during this process.
‘It seems like the change hasn't been reflected yet since it was just a rough reassignment to fill an empty Y-Group spot.’
-Once this week's work is over, you'll be officially reassigned again, but the point is that if you work harder, you could live in an even better place.
Recalling those subtle words, it seemed the researcher was also secretly hoping to boost work morale.
‘Sorry, but now that the environment is good enough to live in, I’m just going to hold out for two weeks like this.’
Actually, I didn't really feel sorry. Daydream research positions… their personalities seemed obvious.
I fell silent, thinking of a certain researcher at headquarters.
Anyway, I was a bit excited at the thought of returning to a liveable bedroom.
And even more so at the freshly packed, steaming tonkatsu!
“Let's pack quickly.”
I briefly packed my belongings at the Z999 accommodation, the worst worker breakroom.
Actually, there wasn't much to pack.
Since I had nothing.
‘I'll take the diary just in case.’
I packed the notebook left by the deceased 993, along with a few candies, chocolates, and water I had placed around the mattress.
Just as I slightly lifted the mattress.
‘…Huh?’
Rip.
The end of the mattress, soaked in muddy water, tore.
“…!”
It seemed to be caught on something protruding from the floor.
‘What is this?’
I immediately checked under the mattress.
Perhaps because of my feet’s movements while caught by the ghost last night and because the mattress was soaked, the underside was worn down.
And beneath that, where there should have been concrete, was packed dirt.
‘…Did the concrete turn into dirt?’
It seemed parts of the floor here had turned into dirt because of the drowning ghost doll story. I shuddered.
However, within that dirt, something sparkled faintly.
‘…A handle?’
I brushed away a bit more dirt.
The clearly-revealed contour looked like part of a door or safe handle.
‘Was it embedded inside the concrete?’
Conscious of any surveillance cameras surely placed in this room, I dug it out of the dirt while pretending to tidy the mattress.
Like a piece of junk, only a fragment of the handle came away in my hand.
“Hmm.”
This... felt like those ceramic shards or screw bits you'd find while digging in the dirt of an old playground.
But it felt too strange to just throw away.
Something like this was embedded in concrete?
And at a Daydream branch, no less.
I recalled the layout of this place, which was like a closed mine.
Daydream had gone through the trouble of establishing a branch and containment facility here.
‘There's a high probability this place itself holds some... supernatural significance.’
But for something like a part of a handle to be hidden in the floor? It was significant no matter how I thought about it.
Didn't it seem like a symbol for escaping somewhere?
Or for storing something.
“Hmm.”
I examined the excavated piece more closely.
An unusual material, strange inscriptions, bloodstains, a sudden surge of panic or murderous intent while holding it... there was none of that.
‘Okay.’
First test passed. I'll take it for now.
I quietly tucked the handle fragment into my work clothes' pocket. I resolved to immediately throw it away if anything felt off.
And so, the preparations for the move were complete.
‘Let's move to the dorm and eat first...!’
I wondered if there would be anyone trying to cause trouble in the Y490-series dorms as well, but at this hour, everyone should be in the cafeteria.
“Good.”
I picked up my luggage, checked the hallway, and after confirming no other workers were around, I moved immediately.
And finally... I entered the room in the Y490s.
Click.
As I opened the door and stepped inside, a fairly spacious area came into view.
‘Wow.’
It was shabby, like an old apartment, but it had a living room finished with linoleum and two bedrooms. It seemed they divided the rooms by gender. I could even see locks...!
‘I'm going to cry.’
It finally felt like a place where humans lived.
Just as I was about to enjoy the small happiness of having a separate living space.
“…!”
The moment I looked under the sunken sofa in the living room, I froze.
Someone had collapsed there.
A worker with disheveled black hair in a complete mess.
‘Is it another corpse...??’
Oh, please.
But fortunately, they moved.
‘Phew....’
The sigh of relief was short-lived as I realized the person's unusual condition.
Wearing tattered work clothes, the person’s state looked wretched, gasping for breath and clawing at the floor with both hands.
Several fingernails, reaching toward the door, had already broken. Their hands were covered in scratches and calluses.
‘Who is it?’
Wait, there's someone left in the dorms at this hour? That's weird....
‘…Wait a minute.’
I remembered what I had heard yesterday morning at the worker waiting area.
-Number 491? Oh, that crazy kid. I don't know. They haven't come out of their room.
“…….”
That was Group Y, wasn't it?
‘N-no way.’
This person is that one.
I finally moved rooms, only to find a roommate who had already lost their mind from a ghost story’s side effects....
‘Sigh…….’
No, I was prepared for this.
‘I just need to not provoke them and get by.’
Still, being alone with them might lead to me getting harmed. I should be careful.
I decided to step back, leave the room quietly, return to Z999 for now to eat, and then come back later.
And as I turned my body….
…….
‘Should I just check their condition?’
They aren't dead yet.
If I could intervene and improve their situation, it wouldn't be a bad thing for me as a roommate.
And blindly leaving them alone might actually be more dangerous.
‘Phew.’
I held back a sigh and cautiously approached Number Y491 (presumably) in the living room.
“Excuse me, are you oka—”
The word "okay" was never finished.
“…!!”
…Because I realized.
This person looked familiar.
But, but….
‘This is someone who shouldn't be here….’
In shock and horror, I cautiously moved closer and confirmed the person's profile….
…….
It was indeed someone I knew.
‘Oh my god.’
Assistant Manager Jin Nasol.
A full-time employee of the Daydream HQ Field Exploration team.
The person who was an elite of the A-Squad was right here.
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