Got Dropped into a Ghost Story, Still Gotta Work Novel - Chapter 72

A Ghost Story Set in a School

 

They say some stories never die—they just linger, passed down through whispers in crowded hallways, etched into bathroom stalls, or murmured during sleepovers. Urban legends. Curses. The Seven Wonders of the school.

 

In a place where hundreds of teenagers are kept under one roof for hours every day, it’s almost inevitable that ghost stories take root and flourish. I always found them oddly entertaining growing up.

 

There’s something timeless about horror set in schools, don’t you think?

 

Maybe that’s why, for the first time, I got brave enough to submit an entry to the company’s exploration logs.

 

Surprisingly, it wasn’t shot down. No flood of “Not Recommended” tags. That gave me the courage to try something bigger—an original story of my own.

 

But now…

 

“I’m actually going in?”

 

The thought made my stomach twist in ways I couldn’t explain. My spine tingled with the familiar chill of dread, sure—but there was something else too. Not quite fear. Not quite thrill.

 

What was it?

 

Anticipation? Curiosity?

 

“I don’t even know anymore…”

 

But the manual had already been sent out. I didn’t have the luxury of hesitation anymore. The only thing left to figure out was how to enter.

 

– “Maybe you need a ritual? Like chanting before bed? I’ve always wondered how you sleep so easily, Mr. Roe Deer.”

 

“It’s not about ease.”

 

I adjusted my bedding in silence.

 

“I’m trying to dream. The dream they told us about.”

 

– “Ah, so you’re going for that high school, then?”

 

Exactly.

 

Even if it’s not this one, I’ll have to enter some ghost story eventually. Might as well aim for the one with the highest point value.

 

This one, according to the company, was worth more than most. But the catch? Only a few employees ever meet the entry conditions per cycle.

 

Haaah.

 

In the quiet of my officetel room, I opened the file the company had provided.

 

– “On a full moon night, read the designated book and sleep. You might awaken inside a school at night.”

 

Exactly what Section Chief Lee Jaheon had mentioned.

 

But the so-called “book” wasn’t a book at all—it was a text file.

 

Within the Shadow of Darkness.txt

 

A cursed relic from the early internet era. People said it occasionally popped up in those pirated “2000s Horror Story Collections” that violated more copyrights than you could count.

 

It looked hefty—enough content for two full novels. But when I opened it…

 

“It all began on our graduation day.”

 

That was it.

 

Just one line.

 

Scrolling further only gave me garbled text

 

₩ub124₩uac00₩u0020₩uc774₩u0020₩uae00₩uc744…

 

Then came the system alert:

 

File cannot be opened.

 

The file vanished.

 

“…Seriously?”

 

Of course it wouldn’t be that simple.

 

At this rate, the real horror might be my rising blood pressure…

 

From the next room, I could hear cursing—Baek Saheon, no doubt. He was probably trying to enter the ghost story too. The company had limited access to just one person.

 

We might even bump into each other inside—though the chances of him meeting the conditions were slim.

 

Then again, this story had a unique twist: its entry requirements changed each time it became accessible.

 

But I knew a guaranteed method, recorded in the mid-to-late stages of the logs.

 

I’d done my homework.

 

The only wild card now was how much the other employees knew. If someone else had pieced together the same clues, they might try to interfere.

 

Time to play a little defense.

 

I walked to Baek Saheon’s door and knocked gently.

 

Knock, knock.

 

“W-What the hell…!”

 

“I’m coming in.”

 

The door creaked open, revealing Baek Saheon’s startled, irritated glare. He quickly forced a smile.

 

“You know… knocking usually means waiting for a response like ‘Come in.’ Ever heard of that?”

 

“Oh, really?”

 

I stepped back out. Then knocked again.

 

Knock, knock.

Knock, knock.

Knock, knock.

Knock—

 

“You jerk—AAARGH! Just come in already!”

 

I walked in with an expression of mock concern.

 

“See? Same result either way.”

 

“…You really live like a menace.”

 

He looked ready to combust from the inside, but managed to keep it together. Progress. Maybe he was learning basic manners after all.

 

“So… what makes tonight special? First time barging into someone else’s room uninvited?”

 

As he spoke, his eyes lit with realization.

 

“Wait. You’re trying to get into the Darkness, aren’t you? The high school from the ghost story?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“I knew it. And you’re prepping for it now?”

 

He tried to peer past me into my room, gaze drifting toward my pillow, clearly hoping to catch a glimpse of something useful.

 

I left the door wide open on purpose, smirking.

 

“Yeah. That’s right.”

 

“Really? But isn’t it one of those things where you won’t know if you’ve entered until you’re already asleep? You seem way too confident. Got a trick up your sleeve?”

 

“You sure ask a lot of questions.”

 

“Well, you did come barging in. It’s only fair if I ask a few things.”

 

I offered a casual,

 

“Want a hint?”

 

“…If you’re offering.”

 

“Why would I?”

 

“…”

 

Baek Saheon bit back his frustration with visible effort, then tried again.

 

“…How about I wire you three days’ salary?”

 

“I’m not interested in your money. But I do want to know something.”

 

“…!”

 

“You’re trying to get in, right? Why?”

 

There was a flicker of hesitation on his face. Not resistance—calculation. He was weighing whether sharing his motive could open up new angles to exploit.

 

Eventually, he spoke with affected indifference.

 

“There’s a rumor going around the company…”

 

“A rumor?”

 

“Yeah. They say if you manage to bring something out of the story… it stays with you. Becomes real. Tangible.”

 

“…So?”

 

“So obviously, if that’s true—who wouldn’t want to get in and grab something useful?”

 

I didn’t respond immediately.

 

Instead, I let the silence stretch.

 

A faint chill crept up my arms.

 

Items that survive the story…

 

Becoming real.

 

Now that was a plot twist worth chasing.

“They say it’s almost impossible to die there.”

 

So that’s the current consensus floating around among the employees.

 

A ghost story now treated like a business opportunity. A “profitable” mission.

 

“To be fair, I doubt your hints are anything groundbreaking,” Baek Saheon added smugly. “But hey, I figured I’d toss you a bone since we share a dorm and all.”

 

Look at him—playing it cool, trying to act like he’s doing me a favor while low-key fishing for intel.

 

I put on a thoughtful expression, nodding slowly.

 

“You’re right. My tips probably aren’t worth much.”

 

“……!”

 

“So there’s really no need for them, is there? Let’s call it even. Your information was… enlightening.”

 

“……!! You little—!”

 

I raised a brow as he caught himself mid-curse. His lips twitched, and he gave me a strained smile instead.

 

“…Say, Supervisor. If someone in employee housing were extorting money and personal info from a low-ranking colleague… wouldn’t that be worth reporting to HR?”

 

I sighed, giving him the kind of pitying look you’d reserve for a dying plant.

 

“You think HR actually cares about that kind of thing?”

 

“……”

 

“Well… you’re free to believe whatever you want.”

 

Baek Saheon said nothing, but the look in his eyes bounced between frustration and quiet panic.

 

Yeah. That’s probably enough teasing for tonight.

 

“Alright,” I said at last. “Here’s something for your trouble.”

 

His eyes lit up immediately, like a starving dog offered a scrap of meat.

 

“Take a high school photo of yourself. Doesn’t have to be fancy—just one with your uniform. Slip it under your pillow.”

 

“……?”

 

“Write your class and grade on the back. Maybe a message or two like it’s a yearbook. The spirits are like that.”

 

I tore a post-it from his desk and scribbled a mock profile on it:

 

Name:

Message to Friends:

“Just like that. Try it and see what happens.”

 

He stared at the note, skeptical. Then glanced at me, narrowing his eyes.

 

“…Did you put a photo under your pillow?”

 

In response, I walked back to my room, pulled out the picture from beneath my pillow, and held it out to him.

 

A grainy printout of me from high school—slightly wrinkled, obviously used.

 

He stared at it for a few long seconds. For once, he had no words.

 

“You thought I was making it up, didn’t you?”

 

“I mean… it’s hard not to! You always talk so smoothly. Feels like you’re weaving a con half the time.”

 

“Really? That’s rude. I’ve never lied in my life.”

 

“……”

 

“Come on, think about it.”

 

As he stood there, struggling to respond, I gave him a gentle push toward the hallway.

 

“I’ve got prep left to do with Braun. Off you go.”

 

– Best of luck, Mr. Trustworthy Coworker!

 

Baek Saheon muttered something I couldn’t hear and retreated to his room with a loud slam.

 

Bang.

 

Finally.

 

Keeping people like him in check was exhausting—but necessary. Especially with newbies constantly rotating into the D-squad. Office survival depended on small wins like this.

 

“Huu…”

 

Back in my room, I turned to my pillow.

 

What I told him wasn’t a bluff. The method was legitimate.

 

Exploration Log #15.

Three members of the K-Squad successfully accessed Sekwang Technical High School using their high school graduation photos.

Method confirmed.

 

With access secured, the next step was just as critical: deciding what to bring.

 

Only items placed under your pillow would carry over into the dream.

 

The size limit made things tricky—couldn’t fit much beneath a pillow, after all. Every item had to count.

 

‘If my wrist seal doesn’t activate in the dream, I’m toast.’

 

And considering how ghost stories often tamper with physical appearances, I didn’t want to risk it.

 

So, I played a careful game of inventory Tetris, slotting essentials into the tight space beneath the pillow.

 

And then… I tucked Braun into the softest corner I could manage.

 

He wasn’t thrilled.

 

– ……

 

‘Sorry, is it too cramped?’

 

– Well, it’s… manageable! If this were a proper film set, I’d be calling my agent. Ha ha!

 

‘Right. Got it. Thanks.’

 

Translation: yes, he hated it.

 

Last thing I wanted was to piss off someone who once disintegrated a malicious entity with a snap of his fingers.

 

Carefully, I lowered my head onto the pillow—taking extra care not to crush Braun—and let my mind drift.

 

‘This pillow’s lumpy…’

 

Still, sleep crept in faster than expected.

 

For someone who usually spent hours tossing and turning, the drowsiness came too easily.

 

And then—

 

Fog.

Shadows.

 

And finally…

 

Ding-dong-daaaeng-dong…

 

…A school bell.

 

Ding-dong-daaaeng-dong…

 

My eyes fluttered open.

 

I was seated in a dark classroom. Every fluorescent light was off.

 

I looked down at my clothes.

 

A school uniform.

 

[■■ High School] was stitched into the fabric—only the name had been scratched out with something sharp.

 

Even without a mirror, I could tell:

 

I looked exactly like I had in high school.

 

And then—

 

“W-What’s going on?”

 

Remember what I said about this ghost story?

 

You never know for sure if you’ve entered until you fall asleep.

 

Which meant…

 

…it wasn’t just company employees who could end up here.

 

“Huh? Wait—why am I in a uniform?!”

 

“Where the hell is this?”

 

“Excuse me, do you know what’s happening?”

 

Voices filled the room as the others stirred awake, blinking in confusion. Some were panicking. Others just stared blankly.

 

Civilians. Ordinary people. Dragged into this place by chance.

 

“Is this some kind of prank?”

 

“Wait, why do I look like a teen again?!”

 

“It’s gotta be a dream.”

 

“Anyone look outside yet? Looks like the second floor…”

 

It reminded me of the subway incident. The panic, the disbelief, the fragile hope that it was all just a dream.

 

Watching them teeter between fear and denial made my chest tighten.

 

And then came the first shift in mood.

 

“Hey… who’s that?”

 

In the far corner of the room sat a boy—completely still.

 

“Why isn’t he moving…?”

 

Everyone else was talking, shifting, reacting. But this figure…

 

He sat there, motionless, eyes open but unblinking, like a statue in a wax museum.

 

His name tag was untouched.

 

[Sekwang Technical High School]

 

“Is he a dummy? Part of the decor?”

 

A hand reached out.

 

Poke, poke.

 

“AH!”

 

The person recoiled.

 

“He’s… warm?!”

 

“…He’s real?”

 

I stood up.

 

As everyone clustered around the eerie figure, I quietly made my way to the door.

 

I needed to open it before—

 

Thunk-thunk.

 

Something shifted in my breast pocket.

 

I fumbled for it.

 

A small, plush keychain tumbled into my hand.

 

‘Oh no. Braun…?’

 

“Braun?” I whispered.

 

The plush doll hung limp in my fingers.

 

“…Braun?”

 

I squeezed it.

 

Nothing.

 

The Silver Serpent Coin—his summoning vessel—was gone.

 

All that remained… was a lifeless plush.

 

“……”

 

From the window, I heard someone scream.

 

“AHHHHHHH—!!!”

 

Great.

 

I’m absolutely, utterly screwed.