Got Dropped into a Ghost Story, Still Gotta Work - Chapter 189

Chapter 189 – 189

Something felt wrong.

I looked around the table. My contaminated selves, each embodying a different horror tale, were seated all around.

According to the Cosmic Shopping Mall’s VIP shopping service, they had been visualized so I could recognize them.

And when I asked for them to be eliminated, the lizard said… …That it would mean permanently destroying a part of myself?

That sounded as if—my contaminated mind itself would be obliterated.

Like amputating a limb to stop an infection from spreading.

Of course, sometimes that’s unavoidable.

But it’s a last resort. A choice you can’t take back.

“…Is it not possible to just remove the contamination? That is, to restore the damaged parts of the mind back to their original state. Permanently.”

“That is not a service provided by the Cosmic Shopping Mall.” “…Is it possible elsewhere?”

“That is a category we cannot provide information on.” I turned my head.

The yellow mascot was shaking its head at me.

No.

I looked down at my right arm.

In this horror-world setting where limbs can be regenerated, people sometimes do cut off their arms or legs. Because here, it can be reversed.

Which means—cutting off part of your self is actually a more extreme choice than amputating a limb… right?

Did Assistant Manager Lee really recommend this option for me?

“I’ll change the question.”

Probably not.

In that case…

I lifted my head.

“I don’t want to destroy my contaminated selves. I want to be able to recognize and manage them.”

The problem with contamination is that it transforms you into something else without you noticing.

But if I know exactly what’s inside me—what mutations are there—then I can suppress them, or, in the worst case, use them. “…I want to be able to control myself.”

The gray lizard, now meeting my eyes, nodded.

“Understood.”

“I’d like to purchase an item that could help me do that. Is that possible?” “Yes.”

The lizard immediately moved its hand.

As if I had chosen the correct answer.

Then, from far down the misty table, one item emerged—carried forward by excited tentacles, which flailed like arms before hesitating at the lizard’s glance and slipping back into the fog. A small device was placed before me.

It looked like a piece of surgical equipment. At its end, like a robot’s hand,

was a finely crafted needle, and above it hung a crescent-shaped lamp

casting light on the device.

I recognized it immediately.

A tattoo machine from the Moonlight Tattoo Shop.

An item that looked like a miniaturized version of the surreal equipment

found in emotional horror stories.

Single-use Automatic Moonlight Tattoo Machine.

“Produced during a brief window before all Moonlight Tattoo Artists went out of business, except for a few survivors. You’ve acquired one of the three remaining units.”

Worship.

Unique.

The tentacles that brought it over waved around proudly like arms, then flinched—perhaps sensing the lizard’s gaze—and vanished back into the fog.

My heart thumped.

“…What exactly does this do?”

“The spirit of a Moonlight Tattoo Artist embedded in the machine will inscribe a tattoo suited to the user’s needs.” Just like the Moonlight Tattoo Shop.

“The tattoo engraved by this device is adaptive. It changes form depending on the user’s environment to remain optimal.” That’s different.

But for me—someone who would keep diving into different horrors, each with its own risks—that was even better.

Was this recommended with that in mind from the beginning?

“Do you wish to make the purchase?”

I nodded.

“Yes. I’d like to buy it.”

“Thank you. The price is one hundred fifty-nine million nine hundred ninety-nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine won.” I nearly choked.

“Is there any other way I can pay? Maybe by offering an item…”

“What item?”

Wait a second.

These guys don’t even seem like they specialize in buying goods.

I don’t know what these aliens are doing with all the money they collect, but the prices in their shop are notoriously brutal compared to production cost.

Judging by their business model… I had a bad feeling they’d rip me off big-time.

Though I guess they’re cutting me a deal already by letting me buy this at all.

After some hesitation, I took out the jade token.

Something I received from Team Leader of Black Tortoise Team 3 at Happy Theme Park.

Crafted by the Baridegi Artisan Workshop. A piece of emergency equipment from the Disaster Management Bureau. “How about this?”

“That item is not accepted by the Cosmic Shopping Mall.” “Hmm, is this your first time seeing it?” “Yes.”

As I thought.

So the alien mall has no affiliation with the supernatural Disaster

Management Bureau.

That was actually good.

“This isn’t for sale—it’s currency.”

I held out the jade token to the lizard.

“It’s accepted in many places. It should be useful for purchasing several items.”

“Please provide examples.”

I gladly did.

Mostly tales and urban legends derived from East Asian folklore. Sometimes from Europe or the Americas—wherever people accepted the jade token as currency.

I guess it’s mostly used in horror stories that stem from cultural traditions or ancestral myths.

The lizard stared at the token without speaking.

After a moment of silence…

“Confirmed. We will accept the item as currency.”

Great.

Nice.

But then the lizard took all five of the jade tokens I offered.

…Not nice.

But considering the price, it still felt reasonably fair.

And so, the machine was placed into my hand.

Single-use Automatic Moonlight Tattoo Machine.

“Would you like assistance with use?”

“No, I’m fine.”

I brought the device to my arm.

I intended to place it where my old tattoos were.

Looks like I just have to hold it and press the switch.

But—

Bzzzzzzzz—

With a soft light and humming sound, the tiny machine floated away from my arm and began to hover on its own. “…!”

It moved to just under my left collarbone.

And began etching something there.

As if drawing with collected moonlight, branding it at the end.

Bzzzzzzzz—

From inside the hum,

I could feel the agony and artistic sensitivity of the spirit embedded in the tattoo machine.

The customer’s request was clear:

To master oneself.

It is the most primal and important task. But when the heart holds countless identities and conflicts, it’s hard to gather them as one and govern them. So let’s tag each with an index and give them connection points.

So they can be sorted and fit together whenever I want.

In that case… isn’t the most striking spot just above the heart?

Heat blossomed on my skin,

And the moment the light faded from the tattoo machine, I hastily unbuttoned my shirt and looked.

A star made of letters had appeared.

A tattoo shaped like an intricate wooden wheel, repeating in circular puzzle-like patterns, as if marking a radiant halo.

Words from unrecognizable languages filled it to the size of a compact disc, layered into multiple concentric circles in precise alignment. There was still room left between them, and I understood…

The anxieties forming the pattern would now counterbalance each other. Through the tattoo, the wearer could perceive themselves and guide themselves into the version they wished to be.

The light and hum from the single-use tattoo machine vanished completely.

And with a soft click, the crescent moon light went out.

“Usage confirmed.”

I turned my head and looked at those seated at the table.

There was no one there.

No—that had all just been me from the start.

Now that I had confirmed they were parts of me through the tattoo, I no longer needed to see them with my eyes to make decisions.

I looked down again at the tattoo.

And among the letters, I touched one that looked like it had glitched, as if a computer font had broken.

The school bell of Segwang High rang out.

“…!”

I realized that if I wanted, I could don my high school uniform again and become one of those horror-game beings who lived in a different time and light than intruders.

No matter what the side effects were.

‘…Wait. Hold on.’

So this tattoo didn’t just organize what was in my head?

It sorted my contamination—and now lets me access it on demand?

This is insane.

Totally worth the 1.5 billion won.

Whether or not I actually use it is a different matter. What’s important is that I’m no longer overwhelmed by the contamination—I’m organized. ‘That’s enough.’

I carefully adjusted my clothes, making sure not to touch the old gothic-style text that looked like it belonged to the Nameless Radiance Cult’s

impostor.

Fortunately—or unfortunately—more prominent at the center were golden, elegant cursive letters, and jagged, claw-mark-looking words. ‘Mascot… and cat?’

A strange sense of familiarity filled me.

Are those two friendly toward me?

…Anyway, for now, this incident seemed to be resolved.

Whew.

“Would you like to continue shopping?”

The lizard asked, as if it had been waiting.

I looked again at the piece of the Nameless Radiance Cult’s sacred law still lying on the table.

‘I need to deal with that too.’

Like buying something that could store it safely.

The problem was—I had no more big money to spend.

The best option would be to dash over to Hundred Dreams and sell it. But I’m a spy, so the timing’s tricky…

“If I finish shopping now, is there a chance I’ll forget that item again?”

“That is statistically possible.”

Guh.

As a broke bastard, I hesitated and asked, “Do you offer storage services?”

“Mr. Kim Sol-eum.”

“Mr. Kim Sol-eum.”

Gasp.

I opened my eyes.

The lizard across the table was staring at me.

But this time, it wasn’t gray.

“Assistant Manager.”

“Yes.”

Red pupils on a white lizard head—Assistant Manager Lee Jaheon was standing before me. Whew.

“Was there anything inconvenient about the VIP shopping?”

“No. It was very helpful…”

And then I saw it.

A pink plushie had been placed in front of Lee Jaheon’s seat.

Why was Braun there?

“Um, I thought I’d… stuffed that in my pocket.”

“I removed it so it wouldn’t interfere with your shopping.” I sighed heavily.

“Are you… still hearing Braun—uh, the plushie—talk right now?” “Yes.”

“I can’t hear anything.”

“I see.”

“W-what is he saying?”

“Sighing, excessive excitement, insults, and threats.” Aaagh!

“I determined it held no informational value.”

“R-right…”

I quickly and carefully lifted the plush off the table and returned it to my front pocket.

But the moment I did—

—My god. Finally.

“…Braun?!”

—Roe Deer! Oh, we can finally talk again…

I quickly took Braun out of the pocket and checked him.

But the voice stopped.

‘Huh?’

I put Braun back in my pocket again.

—Roe Deer? Can you hear me?

Only one thing had changed.

‘The tattoo above my left chest.’

Don’t tell me, being near my tattoo makes it count as being “in” the ghost

story?

‘My god.’

“Hm… seems like I can keep talking to you if I leave you here.” —Near the heart? How poetic! Very well. I’ll graciously forgive you for abandoning me for 23 whole minutes with that raving lunatic. I am your Nice Friend, after all.

—Now, throw him out. Immediately.

“Now, wait a minute.”

I calmed Braun down and turned to Assistant Manager Lee.

“Um… I saw someone during my shopping who looked very similar to you.”

“That was not Lee Jaheon. However…”

“He was part of the ‘we’?”

“Yes.”

“Then… does that mean you already know everything I did?” “Yes.”

I asked, slightly awkward,

“Then you know what I did at the end, too?”

“You mean the item storage request?”

That’s right.

—I’d like you to keep this item safe.

—Understood.

I had entrusted the Cosmic Shopping Mall—with the root of all evil, the Nameless Radiance Cult’s sacred law fragment.

‘It seemed cheaper than outright deleting it or buying an item to control it.’

And that assumption had been right.

…Even if it was still expensive.

— Based on your planet’s currency: 8.99 million won for 100 days.

— …Do you offer payment plans?

Payment plans.

I never imagined I’d be using a financial service I’ve never used in real life —inside a horror story.

‘Daydream would probably sell it for more anyway, so I guess this is best.’ When the timing’s right, I’ll sell it off.

Thankfully, Assistant Manager said I can retrieve it anytime.

The chip I put under my tongue had vanished without a trace, but now I could access the Cosmic Shopping Mall again through my connection. “Mr. Kim Sol-eum is now connected with us.”

…I wanted to ask if that counted as a form of contamination too—but it

didn’t appear on my tattoo, so I decided not to be rude. This guy crushes metal with one hand.

Besides, he’s the one who always notices my contamination and handles it for me.

“Thank you. I’ve come to my senses, thanks to you.” “Yes. However, the choice is yours, Mr. Kim Sol-eum.” “…Do you think I chose well?” The lizard’s snout curved slightly.

“Yes.”

“….!”

“You made a good choice.”

Just like he’s said a few times before.

“…..”

Also.

Back during the shopping phase, I didn’t notice because it was the same lizard head and similar tone—but now that we’re face to face, I can feel it. He’s subtly different.

There’s something—intellect? Emotion? A sense of individuality—that this

version has…

I don’t know.

Of course, if those alien reptiles really do share one collective mind and emotional state, maybe I’m just projecting that difference because I’ve grown close to Assistant Manager Lee Jaheon.

To be honest, I’m not even part of Team D anymore, and yet he keeps looking out for me.

He probably does the same for other former D Team members too.

All in all, he’s a grateful superior—someone I can’t quite figure out, but

who makes me curious.

“Thank you, sir.”

Once more, I expressed my thanks and saw Assistant Manager Lee Jaheon off as he wrapped up his visit to the motel.

Instead of using the door, he quietly disappeared through the window.

—In case of emergency, contact us.

That was the final thing he said.

“….”

—Is it over?

Yeah.

—Phew. He’s finally gone.

Any chance we’re planning to leave this dreadful place too?

Heh heh heh.

“There is.”

—Oh?

“I’ve got a gig now.”

And then—

“I’m officially a spy infiltrating a government agency.” —Show business, my god.