Got Dropped into a Ghost Story, Still Gotta Work

Chapter 33.1

T/N:

Thank you for all the feedback, everyone! I’ve decided to continue using Soleum for our MC’s name. As people have said, we’ve established familiarity with this spelling and pronunciation in English, and at the end of the day, translation isn’t just transliteration but also localization.

Most of all, while his name’s technically closer to Soreum due to consonant assimilation, I like how the ‘Sol’ from the original Korean spelling (sol – eum) is retained. I’ve already been calling our ~bright ray of sunshine~ ‘Sol-ah’ in my head all this time lmao (well, still ‘Sor-ah’ but you get the gist)

Thanks again, and if you have more suggestions/clarifications about the story and my translation, feel free to just send them down in the comments! I’m always open to and grateful for constructive criticism.

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Let’s break it down.

I was trying to find a missing person, encountered some bizarre, terrifying phenomena, and got sucked in somewhere.

In short:

I’m a missing person now, too.

Swallowed up by a creepypasta.

“E-Excuse me, sir, are you a policeman…?”

And maybe, these kids are as well.

There were five or six of them in middle school uniforms, looking at me with a mixture of hope and fear.

Seeing their faces somehow cleared away my initial shock, grounding me back in reality.

‘First things first.’

I need to figure out the situation…!

“I’m not a policeman.”

I showed them the <Daydream Inc.> logo sewn on the front of my security uniform.

“I’m with a private security company.”

“Ahh…”

It seemed they’d mistaken the security uniform for a police uniform.

Their faces were starting to fill with resignation and fear, so I quickly added,

“I can still file a report and initiate security procedures. So, please calm down and explain what’s going on, alright?”

“Umm, yes…!”

The first student who spoke, a girl with short hair, swallowed nervously before beginning, her voice trembling.

“It’s, um. We, we… were on a school trip.”

They’re first-year students from a middle school in Seoul had come on a field trip to Gyeongju.

The teachers had split the kids into groups to keep things manageable, and this group, Group 3, seemed to be especially cheerful and curious.

“B-Behind our lodging, there was this mountain… and we saw something like a gazebo up there, so… we decided to do a test of courage and check it out.”

They had decided to sneak out at night and go up to that ‘gazebo’ by themselves.

‘Huu…’

Normally, they’d have been caught by a teacher, scolded, and sent back, or they’d have just looked around, laughed, and returned safely.

But…

“There was this painting hanging in that gazebo.”

But this is the world of creepypastas.

“I-It was a painting of something that looked… like a weird house…”

The student gulped again.

“And someone was watching us from that house.”

“……”

“So, we dared each other to get closer, and…”

“You touched it.”

“……”

The girl nodded, then started to sob.

“S-Suddenly, a voice from the painting said, ‘Good job, good job,’ laughing, and then… something strange came out of it—”

And when we came to, we’re already in this creepy abandoned house.

“We can hear strange noises outside the window, and even when it’s daytime, the fog is so thick we can’t see… we c-can’t get out…”

Even a boy in the back with a mischievous face was sniffling. They all seemed to be on the verge of panic.

‘Ugh…’

I kept my voice calm on purpose as I asked,

“Was that painting by any chance a scroll?”

“Hiic, sniffle, a scroll?”

“You know, something that rolls up—a vertical scroll.”

“Ah… uh, I don’t think so… It was more like, um, a traditional painting? O-One that’s painted with that old brush thingie…”

“…An ink wash painting?”

“Yes!!”

The student nodded vigorously.

So… could that be the common factor that draws people into this creepypasta?

Scrolls are typically antique items.

‘The scroll that Section Chief Lee had was probably also a traditional ink painting.’

And that creepy, dark red liquid (uuugh) that was swirling around in the restroom… it was probably ink too.

In summary…

It’s a creepypasta where a bizarre ink painting captures anyone who touches it, pulling them into a terrifying place.

‘…Seems like there could be five or six of them.’

I’m finally narrowing it down. But the problem is, none of the Darkness I could think of in this category are easy to deal with.

‘This is a classic, traditional creepypasta…’

The kind of story rooted in superstitious fear that tightens around your throat.

A frightening tale with a hint of a shamanistic undertone, something that chills you to the bone.

“……”

This is really bad. I’m already weak against ghosts as it is…

‘This feels way more intense than that convenience store ghost…’

In desperation, I started counting heads. Usually, having more people around makes things less scary!

Is there anyone else here?

Come to think of it, where did the security sergeant go? He should’ve been caught up in this mess with me, but there’s no sign of him anywhere.

Having him here would be reassuring… and I can’t exactly rely on these kids, either.

‘This is a nightmare.’

I kept my tone steady and asked,

“That must have been really frightening. How long have you been here?”

“A-A day…? I’m not sure…”

“You’re not hungry?”

“We brought snacks, kinda… so we ate those.”

“I see.”

‘These kids must be at their limit.’

These kids, who’ve barely graduated elementary school, have been trapped here on their own?

They’re likely still alert because they’re terrified, which is keeping them from feeling tired, but it won’t be long before they crash hard.

“We’re s-so scared, and our phones don’t work, so…”

“I get it. I’ll look for a way out, so in the meantime, don’t touch anything else…”

Wait.

“So, is it just you here? No other adults around?”

“An adult! There’s one! There’s one, but…!”

Then, at that moment.

…A scream rang out from far away.

AAAAHHHH!

“……”

“He’s been screaming… all by himself… that ahjussi’s scaring us.”

“…Yeah.”

I’m scared too…

‘But I can’t just drag all of you along…’

In times like this, having a comforting (living) plush toy around definitely comes in handy.

‘Braun.’

I called out to the ‘Good Friend’ in my pocket.

Come to think of it, he’s been pretty quiet.

– Mr. Roe Deer.

A slightly crestfallen voice answered.

– I’m sorry. To think you went to such a filthy, unhygienic place just to bring me a gift…

It seemed he was feeling rather guilty. I let out a faint chuckle.

‘It’s alright. We’ll get out of here.’

Actually, it’s not alright at all.

But getting angry here won’t let me quit halfway, either… That would only leave me with a resentful, murderous plush toy.

– You’re truly bold! That’s an admirable talent, even as an entertainer!

No, I’m just absolutely scared out of my wits.

So I’m counting on you for some serious help.

‘Can you help me find a way out?’

– What do you need? Just say the word, and this Braun, will prepare it…

Mm. This is great—at this rate, even if I don’t manage to pull the full fifty million, our friendship won’t be at risk.

After giving Braun a few taps of gratitude on my pocket, I stepped deeper into the abandoned house.

…Toward the source of the scream.