Got Dropped into a Ghost Story, Still Gotta Work …
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Chapter 78 Table of contents

The dark hallway of the fourth floor.

Rows of students stood still like mannequins.

And there I was, carefully calculating the reach of their arms to ensure I wouldn’t accidentally step into their range as I moved forward.

Hoo.

I took out an item I had folded neatly in my pocket and secured it over my vital areas.

Alien Store Purchase: Armor.

Packaged under code 12B357.

The loose-fitting protective gear settled neatly under my high school uniform—a nostalgic replica from my student days.

The Nostalgia Series doesn’t heal wounds or remove contamination once applied.

This meant I had to be even more cautious from now on.

I moved as carefully as possible, ensuring my steps didn’t overlap into the students’ zones.

In a way, the smaller area I occupied by being alone made it easier to navigate. Traveling solo on the fourth floor might actually improve survival rates.

"……."

I wondered if the bronze agent and Jang Heoun had made it safely.

They’re probably prioritizing regrouping with others.

The agent wasn’t foolish enough to head straight to the fifth floor with just the two of them. They’d most likely search for others here on the fourth floor.

And judging by the agent’s demeanor, it didn’t seem like he’d treat Jang Heoun as a prisoner.

Even if he did, I really did everything I could, colleague….

After walking to the end of the hallway, I finally reached the staircase where we’d ascended together earlier.

And then—

I started going back down.

[3F]

I was retracing my steps, returning the way I came.

Why?

To be completely honest, I didn’t need the scattered informational items in this school.

I already have everything in my head.

It’s as if I’ve already obtained and reviewed all of it. I know everything there is to know about this ghost story up until the moment it ends.

Why this school is the way it is, the theme of this nightmare, and even the nature of these "students."

So what I actually needed was just one thing.

The key item for the highest-grade clear.

And now, I was going to get it.

By now, it should have "formed."

I stopped at the landing.

Below me, the third floor was eerily silent.

"……."

That’s because everything down there was dead.

Under the bright flashlight, bloodied corpses were sprawled grotesquely, their mutilated forms on full display.

It seemed like most of the uniformed students on this floor had been killed.

If any surviving agents remained, they must have moved elsewhere.

And judging by the broadcast earlier, nearly all the students who had swarmed the faculty office were immobilized and deemed "dead."

Hoo.

Suppressing my disgust, I reminded myself it was like standing in the middle of a mass casualty disaster site.

Calm down.

This is a dream. It’s all just a dream.

Repeating this mantra to myself, I carefully descended the stairs, scanning every corner of the hallway and the opposite faculty office.

And then I found my target.

Flicker.

In the brief moment my gaze shifted, a student’s posture changed inside the faculty office.

"…!"

Of course, it wasn’t chasing me.

The student’s body was far too damaged for that.

Both arms were broken, one leg was fractured and twisted outward, and its torso was drenched in blood.

But it still managed to tilt its head toward me, as though it had some lingering "awareness."

"……."

I glanced around.

No sign of other students appearing.

Good.

I entered the faculty office.

Approaching the collapsed student near the front door, I got a closer look.

Bleached hair, piercings—the typical look of a delinquent. But whatever intimidating aura it once had was entirely gone, lost to the severity of its injuries.

"……."

This was insane, but—

I grabbed the "student" with both hands and hoisted it over my shoulder.

"Hoo."

Carrying it this way would keep it out of sight. It hung over my shoulder like a sack of rice as I carefully stepped forward.

This is nuts.

Mentally, carrying a few dozen kilograms of homicidal monster was draining. Physically, though, I managed just fine. The Nostalgia Candy still rolling around in my mouth helped with that.

And… this is the destination.

I had already mapped out my route in advance.

By now, there probably weren’t many students left on the third floor, but I couldn’t be certain. I moved quickly, taking no chances.

I clamped the flashlight in my mouth, pressed a hand against the wall for stability, and pushed forward. The high-powered flashlight illuminated the entire hallway, blackout or not.

The sight of blood everywhere made it hard to breathe, but I pressed on.

Finally, my destination came into view.

[Infirmary]

I entered without hesitation, carefully dropping the name tag Jang Heoun had slipped me onto the floor to avoid leaving traces, and quietly opened the door.

Inside, I saw three beds lined up near the window, each obscured by curtains.

Two of them already had shadows visible behind the curtains.

"……."

I approached slowly.

On the infirmary door, a whiteboard with a cheerful notice was posted:

Injured during gym class? Lie down on a bed and wait for the school nurse to arrive!

"……."

I felt an odd chill.

That’s it.

This was the clue that had made me determined to rewrite the exploration log.

The clue left by the twelfth exploration team:

Exploration Log #12
Kang Jiwoo (Assistant Manager): Entered the infirmary, placed injured teammate (Deputy Park Chaon) on an empty bed as per instructions.
No abnormalities observed.
Entire team later killed by pursuing student entity—clear condition met.

When I first read that, I noticed a gap in logic.

It was as if the previous explorers had deliberately left something behind.

Explorers like us are treated as "transfer students" in the context of this ghost story.

In other words, we’re outsiders.

So what if an actual Se Kwang Technical High School student were placed on the bed instead?

That question had sparked a theory—a theory I was now here to test as the thirteenth explorer.

My heart’s racing.

I wasn’t sure if it was fear, excitement, or something else entirely.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the curtain of the one bed without a shadow.

A pristine cot lay waiting.

Carefully, I placed the injured student onto the bed.

In my mind, the text of the new log I was about to write began to overlay:

Exploration Log #13

Log Update: Successful Use of High School Uniform and Infirmary Setup

Employee ■■■ successfully lured an injured student entity to the infirmary. After restraining the subject and placing it on a bed, the student was left unattended for a short period while the employee exited the infirmary to monitor the hallway. Upon reentry, the student entity appeared dressed in a clean gym uniform, its wounds partially treated.

Thump. Thump.

My heart pounded as I waited just outside the infirmary, my breathing shallow. The blood-soaked hallway felt suffocating. After what felt like an eternity but was only seconds, I took a deep breath and knocked lightly on the infirmary door before stepping inside.

And there it was.

The injured student entity was now lying peacefully on the bed, fully dressed in a gym uniform. Bandages covered its injuries, and splints supported its broken limbs. It showed no signs of aggression—barely even acknowledged me.

"……."

I wasn’t sure if I was feeling awe, fear, or some combination of both.

Approaching cautiously, I stepped closer to the bed where the bleached-hair student lay sprawled in a relaxed posture. Its face was neutral, and it didn’t look in my direction.

This is the moment.

In the original exploration log, the note stated that the discovery was made "while thoroughly investigating the surroundings." But I wasn’t going to waste time.

Slide.

I opened the bedside drawer.

Inside was a neatly folded school uniform.

[Se Kwang Technical High School]

It was clearly the student’s uniform—perfectly tailored, with no rips or tears, and inexplicably cleaned of blood or grime despite its prior condition.

Hah.

My heart pounded even harder. Without looking back at the student, I grabbed a nearby sheet of A4 paper from the infirmary supplies and scribbled a note:

**Borrowing your uniform for a bit.

I folded the note carefully, placed it into the drawer, and removed the uniform.

"……."

Turning around, I saw the student still lying there, seemingly asleep. Its appearance was unnervingly serene.

Perfect.

Wasting no time, I began to change.

Stripping off my own high school uniform—a nostalgic relic from my past—I threw it out the infirmary window. Then, I carefully donned the Se Kwang Technical High School uniform. The fit was remarkably close, my physique almost identical to that of the student.

Once fully dressed in the old-fashioned school uniform, I heard it.

Slide.

The sound of a drawer opening.

"……."

Turning my head slowly, I saw the drawer I had just used.

Inside, the note I had left had been replaced with a reply:

What grade and class are you in?

"……."

My hand trembled as I wrote my response.

The same information I had written on the back of an old photo from my high school days, the same fake profile I’d used to enter this place:

Grade 1, Class 5.

The moment I finished writing, the world turned dark.

"……!"

For a few seconds, it felt as though all light had been sucked away. Then, faint outlines began to emerge as my eyes adjusted to the near-total darkness. The dim glow of emergency lights and flickering LEDs illuminated the infirmary.

Tap. Tap.

Someone tapped my shoulder.

I turned.

The bleached-hair student, now sitting on the bed with an almost bored expression, was the one tapping me. It withdrew its hand casually, as though nothing was amiss, and picked up the pen and paper I had been holding.

With its bandaged hand, it scribbled a brief reply:

A transfer student, huh? Unlucky bastard.

Then, as naturally as a living person, it lay back down, settling into the bed as though ready to sleep.

"……."

I stood frozen, staring.

Slide.

Walking on autopilot, I left the infirmary and stepped into the hallway.

The world outside felt surreal. Despite the lingering darkness, everything appeared unnervingly vivid—every speck of dust floating in the air, every faint shadow cast by the sparse light sources.

The uniform seemed to resonate with me, filling me with an odd certainty, a sense of belonging.

"……."

I bent down to retrieve the name tag I had deliberately dropped at the infirmary entrance.

[■■■]

The name tag now glowed faintly, its appearance subtly altered. The darkness around me no longer felt oppressive, and even the blood and gore splattered throughout the scene didn’t faze me as much.

But then…

From the end of the hallway, I saw something.

"…!"

Peering out from Classroom 2-7, figures were emerging.

Their silhouettes were unmistakably human, but their movements were grotesque. Their entire bodies twisted and writhed unnaturally, as if reality itself were breaking them apart like corrupted pixels. They were draped in decayed, tattered school uniforms—grotesque shadows of the students they once were.

As their heads turned toward me, I froze.

Their fragmented, glitching faces locked onto mine.

"……!"

My body refused to move.

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