Chapter Text
Saheon thinks his everyday life is already unfortunate enough.
He was born into a shitty village cult that gets swallowed by the Darkness every year. His sister died when they were young just because she is chosen by a damn cult. Then he ended up working at a wretched place like Daydream Inc., grinding his ass off from one Darkness to another, putting his life on the line over and over again just to earn enough points for wish potions to escape a place that was supposed to be his home.
Of course, life had to fuck it up again and make it even more miserable.
He lost his eye during that damned company employee orientation. Just thinking about that day still makes him shudder. He can still remember that bastard staring at him through the window, holding an eyeball in his hand with that blank, emotionless face. The memory still finds its way into his dreams every now and then.
And as if that wasn't enough, he ended up becoming roommates with that lunatic.
Every single day feels like walking on thin ice, carefully avoiding every possible landmine around the guy. Who knows what Kim Soleum would do if he suddenly decided killing Saheon sounded more entertaining than keeping him alive? Saheon doesn't even want to think about what would've happened if Kim Soleum had decided that agent's side looked more interesting back at the mountain lodge.
Still, after months of avoiding him, it has become routine. Wake up early. Leave for work before Kim Soleum wakes up. Work his ass off. Go home. Repeat. He can go through the entire routine without a second thought.
Today was supposed to be just another one of those days.
Instead, everything went straight down the drain after he screwed up inside a Darkness like the rookie he wasn't.
This Darkness was supposed to be easy. Just another classic ghost story. Perform a ritual at the right place and the right time. Summon a ghost. Offer a sad story of your life. Given a reward for the story. Leave.
A textbook D-grade Darkness.
The possibility of dying should've been zero.
But of course, nothing ever goes that smoothly for Saheon.
After arriving at the abandoned factory, he and the rest of F Squad began the ritual. First, they cleared out the employee locker room on the first floor. Then they placed a wooden figurine at the center of a circle of black sand, poured wine over it, and recited the ritual's chant.
They waited until every last drop of wine had been absorbed by the wooden figure. Only then did it begin to move, slowly walking in circles before eventually stopping in front of the "lucky" person of the night. That person had to pick up the figurine and bring it to the lounge on the second floor, where it would ask them a question.
The question itself was simple enough. It would ask about the saddest thing that had happened to you during a certain age or stage of your life. For example, if it asked about your high school years, you could tell it about the girl you had a crush on ending up with your childhood best friend. Or something equally depressing.
Once you finished answering, the figurine would cry out the wine it had absorbed before giving you a reward as consolation. The reward could be anything, from a few encouraging words to a special item. There was no pattern to what you would receive, but there had never been a case where the reward harmed its recipient. At least, that's what the company manual claimed.
Of course, Saheon shouldn’t believe that company.
After the team leader poured the wine over the figurine and it absorbed every drop, the tiny wooden figure began walking in slow circles. Its stiff, unnatural movements sent a chill crawling down Saheon's spine, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.
After circling three times, it came to an abrupt stop right in front of him. Slowly, almost mechanically, its head twisted toward Saheon. Then it raised one tiny wooden hand. As if asking him to pick it up.
Saheon wanted to curse right then and there.
"Of course it had to be me. Why couldn't it choose the team leader instead? He's the one who poured wine all over you."
The tiny wooden figure, unsurprisingly, didn't answer.
"Seriously, what kind of bullshit luck is this?" he muttered under his breath, glaring at the figurine as if it had personally ruined his day. One of his teammates snorted from the side, another gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, while the team leader simply shrugged with a look that clearly said better you than me. Useless bastards.
With a long, defeated sigh, Saheon bent down and picked up the wooden figure. For one brief, incredibly tempting moment, he seriously considered throwing the damn thing across the room and pretending the ritual had never happened. Unfortunately, common sense won. Barely.
Still grumbling under his breath about his rotten luck, he headed toward the lounge on the second floor.
The lounge looked exactly like every abandoned factory lounge was supposed to look. Dust covered every inch of the room, old vending machines stood silently against the wall, and a worn-out sofa sat in one corner with its stuffing spilling out through several tears. A low wooden table had been placed in the middle of the room, almost as if it had been waiting for him.
Saheon carefully placed the figurine on top of the table before sitting down across from it.
...
The figurine stared at him.
Saheon stared back.
"..."
"..."
This is awkward as hell.
Just as Saheon was starting to wonder if he was supposed to start the conversation himself, the figurine's tiny wooden mouth slowly creaked open.
"What is the saddest thing that happened on your birthday?"
Saheon froze.
...
Seriously?
Out of every possible question it could've asked...
Why his birthday?
It could've asked about elementary school. High school. His first day at Daydream. Literally anything else.
Why did it have to be his birthday?
Because the saddest thing that had ever happened on his birthday...
...was also the saddest thing that had ever happened in his entire life.
The day his sister died.
His throat suddenly felt unbearably dry.
Saheon had expected an embarrassing question at worst. Maybe something he regretted doing as a teenager, or some pathetic story about getting rejected.
Not this.
Anything but this.
His fingers unconsciously tightened around his sleeve.
There was no way.
There was absolutely no way he was telling some random ghost the deepest regret and guilt he had carried with him for years.
For a brief moment, Saheon seriously considered getting up and walking straight out of the room.
What was the worst that could happen if he just refused to answer?
...Actually, no. He didn't even want to know.
This was a Darkness. There was no telling what kind of curse awaited anyone who broke its rules. Maybe the figurine would hold a grudge against him. Maybe it would follow him around for the rest of his life, showing up in his room every night just to stare at him while he slept. Honestly, after everything he'd been through, that wouldn't even crack the top ten weirdest things to happen to him.
"...Fine."
Saheon let out a long sigh before rubbing his face with one hand.
"My older sister..." He paused, the words catching in his throat despite himself. "...died on my birthday."
Silence lingered between them.
"Every year, my village holds a festival." His voice was unusually calm, almost detached, as though he were talking about somebody else's life. "Someone gets chosen as an offering, and that year... it was my sister."
His gaze fell onto the wooden figurine.
"She hanged herself inside the village shrine before they could take her. But they still forced her corpse to continuously appear during the village's festivals."
The words came out far easier than he expected.
Maybe because he had repeated them to himself so many times over the years that they had long since lost their meaning.
Or maybe they hadn't.
"I left the village after that and came to Seoul." He gave a dry laugh that didn't sound amused in the slightest. "Turns out running away doesn't really solve anything. Every festival, I still have to go back there."
He stopped there.
That was enough.
There was no way he was telling a piece of haunted wood about the guilt that had followed him ever since that day. About how he still wondered if there had been another way to save her. About how every birthday only reminded him that he was the one left behind.
The lounge fell silent once again.
The figurine remained motionless.
"..."
"...Well?"
Saheon frowned.
"Don't tell me that's it."
Nothing.
The wooden figure simply sat there, unmoving, as though it had forgotten he was even in the room. The silence stretched on until Saheon was seriously tempted to toss the damn thing into the nearest trash can, or better yet, set it on fire.
Just as he was about to lose what little patience he had left, a dark crimson drop slowly rolled out from one of the figurine's wooden eyes.
Then another.
And another.
The wine it had absorbed began spilling from its eyes like tears, one drop after another, until a small crimson puddle slowly spread across the tabletop.
A chill ran down Saheon's spine.
...That definitely wasn't creepy at all.
Saheon stood there for another minute, waiting for the figurine to finally stop crying.
The crimson puddle on the table stopped growing.
Silence settled over the lounge once again.
Just as Saheon was beginning to wonder if the damn thing had short-circuited after hearing such a depressing story, the figurine's tiny wooden mouth slowly opened.
"So sad."
Its voice was strangely gentle.
"What a pitiful child."
"..."
Saheon blinked.
"...What?"
For a split second, he genuinely forgot he was talking to a ghost.
Did...
Did he just get pitied by a haunted wooden doll?
Somehow, that hurt more than it should have.
"...Seriously?"
Out of everyone in the world...
He got sympathy from a ghost.
His life had officially hit rock bottom.
While Saheon was still trying to process the fact that even supernatural entities felt sorry for him, the figurine spoke again.
"For such a pitiful child..."
Its tiny wooden mouth creaked open.
"I shall grant you a reward."
Saheon straightened in his seat despite himself.
Finally.
Maybe this whole depressing interrogation would at least be worth something.
"From this day onward..."
The figurine's voice echoed quietly through the empty lounge.
"May your deepest wish always reach the one capable of granting it."
"..."
"...What?"
The figurine didn't answer.
Saheon frowned.
"What does that even mean?"
Silence.
"No, seriously." He leaned closer to the wooden figure. "What kind of reward is that? Is there a manual or something? Some instructions? Side effects? Conditions? Anything?"
Nothing.
The figurine remained perfectly still.
"...Hey."
Still nothing.
"...Don't tell me you died."
Realizing how ridiculous that sounded considering he was talking to a haunted wooden doll, Saheon clicked his tongue.
"You know what? Never mind."
He picked up the figurine and gave it an experimental shake.
No response.
Another shake.
Nothing.
"...I got scammed."
Saheon stared at the wooden figure in disbelief.
He had just dug up the most painful memory of his life, got pitied by a ghost, and somehow walked away with the world's most incomprehensible reward. What kind of bullshit was, 'May your deepest wish always reach the one capable of granting it' supposed to mean?
Would letters suddenly deliver themselves with a wishlist he can fill up?
Was something going to magically appear every time he complained?
The more he thought about it, the less it made sense.
"...Can I get a refund?"
The figurine, unsurprisingly, had no intention of answering.
With a long sigh, Saheon tucked the wooden figure under one arm and made his way downstairs, already preparing himself to file this entire experience under Things That Made Absolutely No Sense but Somehow Happened Anyway.
Behind him, the abandoned lounge fell silent once more.
Only the faint scent of wine lingered in the air.