TFN C32

Chapter 32

If the ghost’s origin was confirmed to be from a dungeon, then the official statement would simply categorize the death as an accident, attributing it to unfortunate circumstances caused by a dungeon break. No further investigation would be required. At that stage, the priority would just be to track down and dissolve the ghost so the incident would not repeat. Searching for deeper truth would be dismissed as a waste of both time and budget.

“But isn’t announcing it as homicide also a problem? That means we’d need to catch the culprit.”

True enough—while natural disasters absolved accountability, crimes with intent and specific targets required arresting the perpetrator.

“Has there been any directive from the higher-ups?”

The deputy team leader turned his weary eyes toward Cheongmun.

Cheongmun recalled his superiors at recent meetings. They hadn’t paid much mind, not enough to stick in his memory.

“The Director did say something about—‘We can’t afford to devote ourselves entirely to one case when there’s so much else to handle.’”

The entire team sighed at once.

“It’s not like investigating this means we’re ignoring all the other cases.”

Frustrated murmurs were inevitable.

“I’m working seven separate investigations at the moment.”

“I’ve got five. Had ten, but finished half.”

“Eight, here.”

As Team 1, the unit specializing in villain-related violent crimes, their caseload was endless—yet their performance had never been weak.

“Honestly, going after people while we’re supposed to be chasing a ghost, it’s going smoother than I’d like to admit.”

One man muttered it, and the others cast him tired, tacitly agreeing looks.

While their eyes rolled, Cheongmun dropped his gaze to the system display floating before him.

『Tracking the location of a marked subject…

▽Yun Wonhyo (Current Location – Jongno-gu, Seoul)

The subject’s condition is rapidly deteriorating. Caution advised.』

He already knew Wonhyo had ventured outside after days indoors—the system had flagged his departure nearly an hour ago. But a sudden decline in condition, without change in location, suggested something worth confirming.

“…That’s enough briefing for now. Share new findings through the secure channel immediately.”

“Yes, sir.”

As the team began tidying up and rising from their chairs, Cheongmun placed a call to Wonhyo.

“Ha… ghosts aren’t the only ones….”

Wonhyo sighed.

Like ghosts, Cheongmun also appeared out of nowhere, startling him when least expected.

“The only difference is this one’s scarier.”

Through long training, ghosts themselves had ceased to frighten him. It was the living who were always the real source of fear.

“…It’s just my guilty conscience acting up.”

Remembering the school uniform pants, he expelled a heavy breath again.

It wasn’t like anyone had seen; even after hesitation, he had intended to call. The delay had only been that he couldn’t bring himself to do it lightly.

He answered Cheongmun’s call cautiously.

“Yes. This is Yun Wonhyo.”

He only wished it had been a wrong number dialed by accident. Such luck never came.

–“You’re outside?”

“…Yes.”

Wonhyo lifted his eyes, glancing around. Empty, quiet, no one near… but something about the ambient noise was unmistakably not home.

Lately, Cheongmun had been unerringly pinpointing his location. If he was relying only on instinct, then he was the real one who ought to be laying down mats as a fortune-teller.

–“I’m not watching by CCTV, so don’t worry.”

Not reassuring at all.

Wonhyo withheld a reply.

“So… what is this about…?”

Since Cheongmun couldn’t have known he unearthed a new clue, he might as well hear the other side out first.

–“Strange to say, but it seems the matter concerns you after all. To answer plainly—there’s still no found connection between the victim and the footage you delivered.”

“What? Really?”

That was unexpected.

–“Yes. The vengeful spirit’s appearances follow a strict schedule. But tracing the victim’s location, there were times he was out of the apartment altogether.”

Wonhyo searched his memory.

“So on times when the timing didn’t line up… nothing unusual happened?”

–“Correct. That week he stayed home continuously, and still broadcasted on schedule.”

“…Strange.”

Wonhyo remembered saying it was odd how the spirit seemed obsessed—trailing even the victim’s corpse. Discovering the scheduled appearances were not about him was even more unnerving.

–“Hence my question: it’s been some time since your visit to the apartment site. Will you go again?”

Called back to memory, Wonhyo swallowed.

“I don’t think I can yet.”

–“Even after a week?”

And then he remembered—that day he had told Cheongmun he’d need about that much time before confirming further. That had been mere bluster.

“Ah… no, I did go up again—when I sensed traces outside. But I never reached the door. The elevator closed, and I came back down.”

‘Not that I refuse to go—I can’t go,’ he wanted to insist.

But instead, Cheongmun’s low voice pierced his ear.

–“Would it change if I accompanied you?”

‘Well, yes, if you’re there… but still….’

Wonhyo opened his mouth, then snapped it shut.

Images of half-naked encounters flitted unbidden through his mind.

Fighting down the intrusive self as if swatting an inner molester, he clenched his jaw.

“…That may not be necessary. Anyway, I found something else I think you should see.”

He had decided—before being dragged back to the site, he’d hand over the clue hidden safely in his inventory.

“…Just send any one of your subordinates. Or—I’ll courier it over. That should suffice.”

The thought of letting such a haunted object touch others didn’t trouble him anymore. Autonomous taxi delivery would do. They all seemed sturdy enough to handle it.

–“Fastest and safest way would be to meet you in person and collect it directly.”

“Don’t you have work to do?”

Surely someone entrusted with national-level cases had to be overwhelmed already. This couldn’t be his only task. Why waste scarce time traveling here?

–“Give me your precise location.”

Wonhyo yielded, naming the rest stop’s floor.

–“See you in twenty minutes.”

“…Yes.”

Would he arrive bewildered at being handed nothing more than a pair of thrift-store pants for 1,000 won? Or toss the sliver of business card aside without recognizing its significance?

“…I should just run.”

But the thought made him only gloomier. He stared hard at the ceiling, anxious over what expression he should wear when their eyes met.

Hugging along Cheonggyecheon stream, passing decayed market arcades and turning toward Dongmyo, Cheongmun reached the designated building.

An ancient slab of raw concrete loomed, a relic of times far gone.

He parked in the underground lot of Cheonggye Building, once marked on its rear facade in bold Japanese script as a wholesale shoe mart.

The overpowering musty odor of concrete decay pricked his nose even through the overlay of fresh paint. Fitting for property often proposed for demolition but perpetually surviving.

He pushed past the mildew hidden behind new gloss and found the elevator.

But no lift rose directly to the fifth-floor lounge. First he had to cross the building from the lobby, then rise again on the opposite side.

Stepping through the first-floor lobby, someone approaching spotted him and froze, shuddering.

Cheongmun considered twiddling a finger, pulling his firearm.

Not mere irritation—anyone reacting that way to his appearance had one obvious reason.

Unlike the more regulated Yongsan Electronics Market, this Dongmyo/Cheonggye stretch teemed with gray-market stallers called “bundle sellers,” smuggling items in and out without registration. Enforcement had tightened last year, when he personally made many arrests.

Self-made items were illegal if not registered through the Bureau. Imported goods, when resold, incurred tax evasion charges.

Cheonggye Arcade especially had become a haven for such sellers.

Now, barely a month after Christmas, enforcement had slackened, and rats were surfacing again.

Spotting him, the vendor immediately abandoned his spread-out blanket of wares, fleeing without even packing stock into his inventory.

Cheongmun noted the fleeing back, sent a report to the enforcement division. Not his target now.

Leaving the empty space behind, he boarded a lift, pressing 5.

Alone, he ran through the likely meaning of Wonhyo’s “clue.”

Unless he had stopped somewhere else after leaving home, it had to come from here—either found on-site, or passed to him.

If another party had shared evidence, that also required verification.

Then he reached the lounge, a quiet corner where fewer people passed.

At the corridor’s end, in a nook furnished with some chairs, he spotted the rounded back of a head.

“Ah—you made it.”

At the sound of footsteps, Wonhyo turned, flustered, and stood quickly.

His cheeks and ears were flushed, eyes skittering. But with the system silent, Cheongmun ignored it.

“…Been a while.”

Footnotes

 

1. Dongmyo / Cheonggye Arcade – Actual districts in Seoul, historically home to flea markets and electronics shops. Here, notorious for black-market item trading in the fantasy setting.