Got Dropped into a Ghost Story, Still Gotta Work

Assistant Manager Eun Haje’s emotions were a tangled mess.

‘If I’m going to leave, I’d like to go in peace.’

Apparently, that was an impossible wish.

“Hey! Move back! Do you think I didn’t notice you already guessed one right?”

“Ack! Move back! I haven’t guessed a single one yet!”

‘Troll bastards…’

It was utter chaos.

The scene had already been unseemly when everyone acted as if they were watching a spectator sport while fending for themselves. But now, with everyone monitoring and sabotaging each other while yelling, it had gotten worse.

Survival and points.

Two objectives meant double the conflict.

It was like watching a wagon wheel stuck in place, unable to move because of friction, only building up heat.

‘Roe, that punk… He’s really something else.’

It had been a long time since Eun Haje had seen such excellent political maneuvering.

‘Good thing he’s a decent guy.’

Judging by the mess in front of her, they might actually stall for more than an hour.

‘How long has it been? Twenty minutes?’

_ _ T R A _ _ R

And yet, with only one letter filled in so far…

[Here’s the hint for the 6th blank letter!]

[Whose obituary call caused Teacher Eun Haje’s airplane trauma?]

“Assistant Manager Eun, who passed awa—”

“Oh, shut up.”

But what was the point of stalling, anyway?

‘Isn’t it the same outcome? All my secrets will get exposed, and I’ll die.’

It wasn’t like Eun Haje cared about preserving her honor anymore, but the longer it dragged on, the more bitter and tired she felt.

And the more she thought about what those two hoobaes were planning, the more dizzy she became.

‘They’re about to do something crazy.’

Eun Haje recalled Roe’s earlier whisper.

– During the hanging, remember this…

It hadn’t been a request, but a statement, one that wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Still.

If they were really determined to go through with it, wasn’t it only fair that Eun Haje did her best to survive?

…Though she couldn’t say whether their resolve would hold in a few minutes.

‘Let’s see how it goes.’

Eun Haje crossed her arms philosophically.

And so, twenty minutes,

Thirty minutes,

Forty minutes passed.

“Hell yeah! It’s right! The ‘B’ in ‘Believe’!”

[Correct!]

B _ T R A Y _ R

The word was starting to take shape.

And at this point, it’s only natural that someone would catch on.

“Wait a sec.”

“Huuh?”

The word’s true identity.

“This word…”

* * *

“Roe, over there.”

I looked up.

One hour and eight minutes had passed.

…The word was complete.

B E T R A Y E R

Betrayer.

[The word that best represents Teacher Eun Haje is ‘Betrayer’!]

What?

[Four years ago, as a reporter, Teacher Eun Haje betrayed her long-time boss and team, trying to publish an exclusive article on her own. She failed and had her story stolen.]

[And during this process, her false report caused severe emotional distress to her sources, leaving them in despair until some of them actually died!]

[What’s the moral of this story?]

[The answer is, ‘People who betray their workplace deserve punishment’.]

Ha.

[Hangman is an excellent educational game used here at ■■ Kindergarten to teach the moral of justice and retribution to our students.]

“This is the one time I really regret not being able to curse.”

“Roe.”

Supervisor Park grabbed my shoulder.

“Listening to this, it makes your sunbae sound like such a terrible person, but…”

“You wouldn’t know for sure unless you heard it directly from them.”

“That’s just how this kind of Darkness works.”

It isolates the victim, inflicts psychological torment, and uses penalties to scare the remaining members of the Field Exploration Team into compliance.

“I think it’s not too late to talk about it after we all make it out alive.”

Supervisor Park’s face lit up.

“Exactly! You’re right, Roe! That’s why… ah.”

Thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk…

I turned my head.

Eun Haje watched with a conflicted heart.

“…They’re coming.”

Through the open door of the playroom, figures stepped in unison, moving slowly and fluidly.

There were no melting black substances, no screams.

Just pristine pastel outfits, smiling faces, aprons, and name tags.

The brand marks on their foreheads.

[Sunny Class ■■■]

[Chick Class ■■■]

[Dream Sprout Class ■■■]

“…Those people are the ones who were fully contaminated and trapped here. No, the monsters that used to be people… Don’t make eye contact.”

“If you get scared, you might be affected.”

I turned my eyes away as much as I could from those figures.

[Game over!]

[Now, let’s hang the Hangman one last time!]

“It’s time.”

I recalled the conversation we had during preparations.

– Supervisor, if it feels like too much of a burden…

– You’re telling me to push it onto you?

– What?

– Oh, come on. That’s not happening. This is my custom equipment. You couldn’t use it even if you tried!

‘I wasn’t saying I’d do it, but… thanks.’

And now, the supervisor was holding his custom equipment.

A camouflage cloth.

‘Wasn’t it called the Mimic Scarf?’

It looked no different from the one he had used to help me during the exhibition, but there was one key difference.

“It’s actually sopping wet now, huh?”

It was soaked.

We had dumped all the remaining contents of the <Alice Picnic Set> drink enhancer onto it.

The same enhancer that doubled the effect of the Smiley Sticker during the Tuesday Quiz Show.

‘I drenched that scarf completely without holding back.’

To avoid dirtying the floor with foreign substances—which would incur a penalty—we’d spread my suit jacket beneath it, essentially sacrificing it.

And if the enhancer worked…

‘The camouflage gear should have tremendous power, even if just once.’

At least until the moisture dried.

Since we were racing against time, it was perfect for the job.

“Alright, I’ll use it now.”

“Yes.”

I nodded.

The supervisor glanced at the kindergarten teachers climbing onto the stage, then silently pulled the scarf over his face.

And…

He became one of them, perfectly.

[Sprout Class ■■■]

– Ah, excellent. A convincing disguise. It won’t hold for long, though…

‘It only needs to last for a moment.’

About three minutes.

And I had to act, too.