Got Dropped into a Ghost Story, Still Gotta Work Novel - Chapter 221

A dark, narrow editing room.

Giant editing monitors.

One of them lights up.

From the sole light source, a blue desktop appears.

And on it, several video icons.

They are raw footage from entertainment shows.

The two field investigation team employees, who had already communicated beforehand, moved without hesitation.

“First, I’ll check if it’s truly darkness.” 

“Yes!”

The verification process.

The hand holding the mouse moves, and the pointer glides across the desktop…

Click.

The clicked icon spits out the footage.

The original video that will become Chapter 26 of MBS ‘Kind Karaoke’.

[Hahahaha!] 

[Wow, you sing really well!] 

[You flatter me.]

In the bright, colorful karaoke set, two guests and the MC are seen laughing across a table.

This is a popular format in recent broadcast content targeting WeTube: a small-group singing talk show featuring lavish guests and a non-aggressive, humorous host.

The bright and cheerful interior, the laughter, and even the cheers from the production crew felt refreshing.

“Hold on.”

The video pauses.

A fleeting shot of the karaoke room interior.

A dark, small window on the karaoke room door.

In it, there’s a man’s face.

He’s looking at the camera.

“Hoo.”

Visible even in the darkness. More distorted and noticeable than the screenshot from Chapter 36 I saw in the attached post.

As if trying to catch someone’s eye beyond the camera.

It was a spine-chilling sight, enough to make anyone who unexpectedly discovered it freeze in terror or scream and run away.

“Okay.”

But the two field investigation team members quickly turned off the video and clicked on something else.

Because they were used to it.

Click, click, their hands rapidly clicked on other entertainment show files ending in ‘6’ in quick succession.

…But then they realized.

“…” 

“…”

Recently, popular entertainment formats rarely feature large, boisterous groups.

Especially not those that use many people for reactions or audience participation. There are none.

Therefore, there are no crowds.

Consequently, the ‘man on the screen’ cannot sit among people as if he were one of them.

So…

The man appears in increasingly awkward ways.

In an entertainment show where people sit on cushions and chat on a rooftop, the man standing outside the veranda looks at the camera. In an entertainment show where people fish in a river, the man presses his face close to the cast members focused on fishing and looks at the camera. In an entertainment show where an MC and an actor guest converse, the man stands stiffly behind the table where they sit facing each other and look at the camera.

His expression grows increasingly bizarre.

His posture too.

Sometimes even mimicking the guests or MCs.

It’s as if he’s imitating them, but the awkwardness and uncanny feeling send shivers down one’s spine…

“…”

At this point, even a staunch materialist would begin to feel an ominous dread.

Kang Yihak swallowed hard and turned off the footage.

But he didn’t hesitate.

“I’ll put it in.” 

“Yes.”

Deputy Lee Seonghae inserted the prepared USB into the editing equipment connected to the monitor.

Executing the simple processing method provided by the company.

Placing video data into storage that cannot be self-played and returning it to an appropriate storage location (speculation).

It was a reasonable method to try, given the pattern of darkness.

If a situation arose where someone died from watching videos containing the ‘man on the screen’ in the editing room, they would simply store all those videos separately and then seal off the editing room.

Because if the video couldn’t play, the phenomenon couldn’t even occur.

Unfortunately, the production team would have to be informed that they would need to use the raw footage that hadn’t entered the editing room.

“So, don’t provoke it unnecessarily, just put it into the USB, right?” “That’s right.”

Click.

Kang Yihak, who had been waiting, immediately opened the removable disk as soon as the USB was connected, grabbed all the files ending in ‘6’ on the desktop and even the ‘in-editing’ folder, and dragged them in instantly.

It was a movement he had done so often that there was no hesitation in his speed.

‘Hoo.’

And, as expected of high-capacity files, a loading pop-up appeared. The process of the footage moving to the removable disk. If he could just endure this…

Copying…

“…” 

“…”

Huh?

“Excuse me.”

Lee Seonghae spoke.

“Why is your hand there?”

Kang Yihak looked down at his hand.

His hand, reflexively placed on the keyboard, was pressing the Ctrl key.

…A habit.

If files or folders are simply dragged and dropped into USB storage, it’s treated as a move.

It’s a ‘cut’.

But if you do it while holding down the Ctrl key…

It becomes a ‘copy’.

Something that naturally develops in upperclassmen who do many extracurricular activities and assignments.

That is, backup.

“…”

Kang Yihak looked at the files still being transferred to the USB storage.

And he looked at the files still remaining on the desktop.

Containing the ‘man on the screen’.

At this rate, the original will remain in the editing room.

But files being copied cannot be deleted.

‘No.’

Kang Yihak watched the ‘Copying’ pop-up with a chilling feeling, waiting for it to complete.

The numbers climbed steeply. Please. 90, 92, 95, 97, 99…

Complete.

At that moment, Kang Yihak immediately hit the delete shortcut.

Are you sure you want to permanently delete these 6 items?

Immediately!

He had to be quick. His hand couldn’t slip. No, his hand didn’t slip, but strangely, supernaturally, the mouse double-clicked, not deleting, but playing the icon, and the footage began to play—