Got Dropped into a Ghost Story, Still Gotta Work - Chapter 196

Chapter 196 – 196

First of all, a fairly reasonable guess came to mind as to why Baek Saheon was in this strange rural village.

‘…Baek Saheon was on the Tamna-bound train!’

It was the same express train to Mokpo that I had taken today.

‘Was this his destination back then, too?’

It looked like he was on his way to his family home—so does that mean this

is Baek Saheon’s… hometown?

The thought made me feel strange.

The sight of a quaint, homey rural village festival somehow felt out of place with Baek Saheon.

Even more so if the village festival was a cult-like ghost story about a

strange little society.

“Hey, take this over there!”

“Ah, yes.”

Even now, Baek Saheon, with a grumpy face, was obediently helping serve

food at the orders of other villagers.

But…

Let’s find the grumpiest-looking villager and ask to stay the night, just like Agent Choi’s comment!

According to that logic, could that guy actually be one of the appropriate people?

It was a bit awkward and bizarre, but still within the realm of contextual understanding. However…

Why on earth is that person here?

‘…Deputy Manager Eun Hajae.’

I subtly turned my head, making sure not to catch Agent Bronze’s attention, and checked again.

Eun Hajae was calmly eating more boiled pork with soju—as if she were just dining in a cafeteria.

“…”

Something about the naturalness and nonchalance of her expression and movements made me feel uneasy.

I found myself staring more intently when— Our eyes met.

‘…!’

At that moment, Deputy Manager Eun Haje smoothly raised her plate of pork and soju bottle… and began walking toward us.

‘…?!’

Why—why is she coming over here?

Then she plopped down at our table and casually spoke to Agent Bronze.

“Got a bit too much pork. Would you like a piece?”

“…Who are you?”

“I’m a journalist. Heard there was a village festival and came to see if there was a story here… thought I’d ask your thoughts.” ‘Deputy Manager!’

Eun Hajae continued acting like she didn’t know me, chatting with Bronze Agent as if she were just an overworked reporter.

The agent’s eyes turned cold, as if a bothersome informant had latched on.

“I don’t really have anything to say.”

“Then just hear me out a bit. From what I saw yesterday, this festival seems like a lure for outsiders…”

DANG DANG DANG DANG DANG!!

“…!!”

The loud sound of gongs and drums turned everyone’s heads.

The music stopped, and a middle-aged man with a friendly demeanor climbed up among the performers and shouted into a megaphone. [Everyone! It’s time for the drawing! Receive your prizes and be blessed by Jisan’s fortune!]

“Looks like it’s a traditional holiday drawing.”

It seemed the festival held prize draws every day during its four-day run.

Most of the prizes were local produce, though sometimes handicrafts or gold items appeared.

The latter, the branch office speculated, were personal effects of missing persons.

Villagers scattered with lottery boxes. Shouts of “I got one!” and “Aw, nothing!” echoed around. One person who drew a gold prize cheered as

they received a pair of gold earrings.

“Oh, lucky.”

“But those earrings looked secondhand.”

“….”

“….”

“Well, maybe someone donated them for the festival.” None of us responded.

Then, someone approached our table with a lottery box.

A scowling man with a medical eyepatch.

‘Baek Saheon.’

Is this some kind of White Dream staff reunion or what? Now we were facing an impromptu three-way meeting. Worse yet—

Agent Bronze recognizes Baek Saheon’s face.

“You…!”

Agent Bronze, who had seen my ‘coworker’ at the serial killer cabin, froze.

He glanced at me, and I quickly shook my head.

“It’s fine.”

“…Okay.”

Agent Bronze quickly calmed down.

Because he realized I hadn’t been exposed.

After all—

They wouldn’t recognize us anyway.

During the festival, villagers don’t recognize acquaintances from outside. They treat all visitors strictly as honored guests, and a few testimonies exist from people who escaped disaster by noticing the uncanny atmosphere.

I tried interrogating them just in case, but they really didn’t know me.

It’s like there’s some weird spell over them. HQ has no info either, so

just ignore it if I’m not around.

Baek Saheon approached.

Still scowling, and even when our eyes met, his expression didn’t change.

He just—

“Go ahead and draw one.”

—held out the box to us.

“….”

“I heard the prizes are pretty good… Oh, thank you.” Eun Hajae drew a stick without hesitation. It read “rice.” “Your turn.”

I exchanged glances with Agent Bronze.

Do not refuse the drawing. Refusing means no villager will offer you lodging. If you don’t want to fail the mission and call in a panicked rescue,

remember this!

“Hey. Aren’t you drawing?”

“Ah. Yes.”

I reached into the rooster-shaped wooden box. It was oddly damp with moisture.

What I drew was—

“A blank.”

Phew.

Agent Bronze carefully drew as well. Another blank. “Too bad. It would’ve been nice if you’d won something.”

Eun Hajae pointed toward the man with the megaphone in the village square.

“Now that would’ve been a jackpot.”

[Whoever wins the Special Prize will receive a treasure!]

The banner he gestured toward showed a gold rooster statue, vividly printed.

Its size couldn’t be judged exactly, but the detail implied it was quite large.

“Wow.”

“Looks like it’s worth over 100 don!”

“Does anyone ever actually win that?”

As for that—

No eyewitness has ever confirmed someone winning the Special Prize.

Yes.

Considering that guests draw more than half the sticks each day, the odds seem suspect.

This may be some kind of selection ritual in this paranormal disaster. (The branch office uncovered a folktale that someone who won 52 years ago ended a drought and was later enshrined as a local deity.) And just as Agent Choi had said.

No special winner appeared this time either.

The man with the megaphone looked deeply disappointed. [Thank you all again today! May you be blessed by Jisan!] With that, the day’s festival ended. “Aww.”

“Total scam?”

“Come on, we got free meat and booze.”

Outsiders stood to leave—but many were too drunk to drive.

“Ah jeez, what now…”

“It’s okay! This person offered to let us stay!”

Many visitors agreed to sleep over in the village, touched by the residents’ kindness.

It looked warm and wholesome.

But if you looked closer, villagers quietly gathered up the used lottery boxes, whispering as they did.

Then they drew from the remaining sticks themselves. Until someone drew the golden-tipped Special Prize. During this, they chanted strange words. “Sansanbaekjisanbokjushiopgedaeleejaya.” “Sansanbaekjisanbokjushiopgedaeleejaya.”

Probably a spell or prayer… It’s not a proper shamanic phrase, but still—don’t listen too closely. Positive effects from paranormal chants are rare.

Eventually, someone drew the golden stick.

“Ah…!”

Tears streamed from their eyes.

The crowd gathered around to cheer.

“Sansanbaekjisanbokjushiopgedaeleejaya!”

“Sansanbaekjisanbokjushiopgedaeleejaya!”

HQ thinks whoever draws that stick among villagers is assigned a special role in the next festival.

“…”

I turned my gaze.

Baek Saheon was watching all of it with sunken eyes.

“Excuse me.”

He turned only his gaze.

I asked politely.

“Is there somewhere in this village we could stay the night?”

“…You’re not asking to mooch off someone’s food and space for free, are you?”

Deputy Manager Eun suddenly cut in, lifting her rice sack.

“I’ll pay. Call it fate that we met here.”

“Huh?”

“Here, is this enough?”

He handed Baek Saheon a thick wad of cash.

Saheon looked briefly startled, but soon accepted it without comment.

“…Follow me.”

“Okay.”

“Wait! You said you’re a journalist? Then please leave. We’ve asked—” “You’re kicking out the guy who paid? Capitalism’s dirty, but at least stick to it, old man.”

“…”

I heard Agent Bronze mutter, “Old man?”

Oh god.

With a heavy heart, I followed Eun Hajae, who calmly walked after Baek

Saheon.

“…Should I carry the rice sack?”

“Oh! Repaying your lodging fee already, kid? You’ve got principles.”

I took the sack from Eun Hajae—whose hands were still likely not fully healed. Agent Bronze reluctantly helped. “You’re late.”

“…”

gave him a stunned look— “HEY! You damn hick

bastards! What? You think I came all the way here for cucumbers?!” THUD!

A nearby crash and shouting.

Cucumbers scattered as a drunk outsider thrashed around.

“Give me gold!”

“Oh dear, sir.”

“You still have two more chances!”

Villagers cheerfully coaxed him, offering more food, lodging, and hot springs.

…Their kindness was unsettling in how unfazed they were by the earlier verbal abuse.

Soon, the troublesome outsider was led to a village house—one of the few with traditional tiled roofs.

The central one looked especially large.

“…”

I stiffly turned my head.

The remaining villagers quietly cleaned up the mess, brushing dirt from the

cucumbers as they softly repeated:

“Sansanbaekjisanbokjushiopgedaeleejaya…”

That chant again.

“…”

I tore my eyes away and kept walking.

“…This way.”

But here’s the real problem.

Baek Saheon was leading us toward that house.

‘Wait.’

Can we seriously just walk into that suspicious-looking place?

But Agent Bronze strode forward without hesitation, so I didn’t run.

‘…Agent Choi wouldn’t have lied in histips, right?’

The tiled house loomed near.

“…Come in.”

Its entrance was broad, with a wide wooden veranda like a traditional foyer. But Saheon, looking like he didn’t want to step inside, slipped through a side door.

Someone was already there.

The man with the megaphone.

“They’re staying here?”

“Ah, welcome! Haha! Saheon, treat them well. Don’t pull any stunts.” “…”

“Be blessed by Jisan!”

Baek Saheon nodded slowly and led us inside.

The house was strangely vast, repeating similar structures and paper doors until…

We reached a hallway lined with old wooden doors.

Creak.

He opened one.

Inside was a small, lived-in room.

One neatly arranged bedding set, and another dusty one pulled out in a hurry.

“You’ll sleep here.”

“Isn’t this your room? Where will you sleep?”

“…”

With a look that said ‘what a stupid question,’ he turned and opened another door for Eun Hajae.

Then disappeared down the corridor.

“Guy can’t even deliver for the money I gave him.”

Eun Hajae shrugged and said flatly,

“Rest well. Maybe see you tomorrow.”

“…Yes. Thank you.”

I watched her go.

…She clearly recognized Baek Saheon too—but pretended not to.

She knew Baek wouldn’t recognize her.

‘She knows this ghost story well.’

That means she came here with a clear purpose. And Eun Hajae… is on Director Ho’s project team. ‘…What’s happening here?’

Considering the kind of world-ending paranormal event Director Ho requested, I started forming hypotheses—but then…

“…”

I was just too tired.

Of everything.

Forget it.

Let’s focus on the wish voucher…

“Agent Podo.”

“…”

“Do you remember your task?”

“Yes.”

The Jisan Cow Offering Ritual.

When a rescue request is received, HQ uses a paranormal auto-responder to give the rescuer a time and place to meet. Let’s go where they said.

“This is the place.”

Agent Bronze showed me the note.

1 a.m. Village well

After midnight, the tiled house fell into eerie silence.

We quietly stepped out and began walking.

After midnight, it’s relatively safe unless you approach the shrine.

Still, don’t be loud!

“The well is to the east.”

Crossing the dim village with only sparse streetlights, we finally reached a place with a few abandoned-looking homes. The well was in the center.

Someone stood there like a watchman—

Baek Saheon.

“…!!”

His one eye met ours.

“You folks agents?”

Next moment.

Agent Bronze rushed in and pinned him.

If a villager sees you after midnight, hide fast.

If you can’t?

Subdue them and hide them in an abandoned house!

Just as we began dragging him—

“Hey! You can’t treat a whistleblower like this!”

“…!”

Agent Bronze froze.

“You’re the whistleblower?”

“Yes! I’m the one who reported it!”

Baek Saheon, struggling against the hold, lowered his voice.

“Help me get out of this village… tonight.”

“It’s a trap.”

Agent Bronze spoke bluntly.

“Villagers can leave after the festival. He wouldn’t need help…”

“I can’t leave!!”

Baek panted.

Then, glancing between us with desperate eyes, he swallowed hard and said: “…Check my pocket.”

“…”

I reached into his pants pocket.

And pulled out—

A stick tipped in gold foil.

The Special Prize.

“I—I drew that on the first day…”

Unfortunately, no one has ever escaped the influence of the curse after drawing the special prize.

If I know you like I think I do, you’ll want to try. So I’ll say it now:

Let the senior agents handle it. If you try to leave the village with a

local during the festival…

“Please let me out of here!”

The agent goes missing too.