Got Dropped into a Ghost Story, Still Gotta Work

Chapter 28.3

– But no matter how you look at it, it seems like they were struck with a can!

That’s what I’m saying.

I nodded, as if just realizing something.

“Oh… This can is aluminum.”

“So what?”

“Typically, cans are made of steel.”

A frown.

“Why would canned goods be made from aluminum, like a drink can…? Hmm, could it be…?”

– Intriguing…

I intentionally paused for dramatic effect.

“A plot hole?”

Rattle.

At that moment, the cans around me began to tremble slightly.

But I ignored it and continued muttering to myself.

“That’s certainly possible. After all, we encounter drink cans more often than canned food, so it wouldn’t be too surprising if someone accidentally used the wrong material and labeled it as aluminum…”

– Hoooh…

But then.

I stopped talking and gave a small, mocking laugh.

“But, heyyy. No way.”

“…Soleum-ssi?”

“Anyone could look it up with a quick search—no one would make such a basic mistake. Tricks are the most crucial part of any work of the mystery genre. They shouldn’t be so sloppy.”

– Hahaha!

“When you think about it, a murder happening in a canning factory with a can as the weapon is way too predictable, don’t you think?”

I actually meant this.

“It lacks freshness and surprise… A writer with any sense wouldn’t try to pass this off as their big plot twist.”

– Oh, I agree!

The space began to shake more violently.

“Honestly, this is so poorly done…”

I finished with a bored tone.

“Even an amateur wouldn’t write something this sloppy these days.”

Boom!

After a brief pause—

Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!

Cans exploded all around us.

“What’s happening?!”

The space seemed to weep as it melted away, dripping like tears from all the ruptured cans.

And then, everything vanished.

Just before the last remnants disappeared, there was the sound of someone sobbing, their cry filled with agony…

The next moment—

We found ourselves back in the familiar, luxurious lounge on the company’s 15th floor.

Covered in exploded canned meat.

“……”

“……”

“We… got out.”

For the first time, A-squad’s leader faltered, visibly shaken.

“The Darkness let us out… but why?”

Wiping chunks of burst canned beef from my face, I answered quietly.

“It had a mental breakdown.”

* * *

After escaping from the creepypasta featuring my own corpse, I cleaned off all the canned beef remains in the shower attached to the office. Then we gathered in the lounge once again.

“Wow… The rumors were true. You’re really known for clearing fast without a manual.”

“It’s nothing.”

“This isn’t the time to be modest, Soleum-ssi.”

The A-squad’s leader, having checked that the Dream Essence Collector was filling with yellow liquid as expected, turned to look at me with admiration in her eyes.

“How did you reach this result?”

Yes, I knew she’d ask this.

I clasped my hands behind my back and took a formal stance, ready to present as if in a lecture. It was my defensive stance, to avoid getting nitpicked for any signs of fear or incompetence in case my supervisor’s workplace harassment tendencies decided to flare up again.

“I followed a standard deductive process.”

“Hmm.”

“First… Since I was repeatedly told to examine the corpse and survey the surroundings, I deduced that the corpse was likely central to our escape.”

Of course, it was probably just an excuse to make things harder on me, but the method with which you present your facts is everything.

“And since you mentioned this was a ‘story’, I figured it was a narrative where someone ends up as a corpse… meaning it had to be a murder mystery, either a film or a novel. So, I guessed that preventing my own death would be the standard method to clear it.”

I shrugged.

“But that would take too long.”

“……?!”

“Since you called me up for this, I wanted to finish it, preferably by this morning.”

A-squad’s leader looked at me with a face that practically said, ‘What on earth are you talking about, rookie?’

But honestly, a bit of eccentricity is better than fear, isn’t it, Section Chief!

“So, I looked for a shortcut.”

“And how did you do that?”

“There were hints.”

I looked at the two of them.

“In the way both of you acted.”

“……!”

“You’d read the manual, hadn’t you? I noticed that your actions were giving me clues.”

Like how you kept pushing me to observe the corpse.

‘If those hints were intentional, then there were probably even more subtle hints you weren’t aware of.’

I recalled the most crucial clue.

– Right. Soleum-ssi, why don’t you go ahead?

– Soleum-ssi?

“When we entered the Darkness, you called me by my real name.”

“……!”

Normally, in creepypastas, it’s a strict recommendation not to use real names but to stick with nicknames derived from the masks.

There’s a risk that real names can be exploited in harmful ways.

Yet, A-squad’s leader called me ‘Soleum’ instead of ‘Roe Deer’.

If someone as experienced and elite as her did that, there could only be one reason.

She already knew it would be safe.

“That meant there was no sentient entity in this Darkness that could harm me upon hearing my real name.”

It also implied that, aside from the death that had already occurred, there was no other supernatural interference at play.

I added this explanation before continuing.

“So, realizing I had more freedom… I thought, why not be a bit more aggressive? I decided to attack the story itself and destabilize it.”

“……??”

“You… thought that?”

“Yes. A story loses its meaning if its foundation crumbles.”

I nodded.

“So I undermined its plausibility, causing the story to collapse and freeing us. That’s all.”

“……”

“……”

Their faces were blank, as if processing what I’d just said.

“You inferred all that not just from the surroundings, but also from our conversation and behavior…?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Not really.

The truth is, I benchmarked off the exploration logs.

– The setting suddenly collapsed, transporting them to a different story (continued in Exploration Record #22). Testimonies indicate that crying, whimpering sounds were heard.

Apparently, just mocking the failed story had shattered its mental stability enough for it to reassemble itself into a different story.

I figured that if I just steadily dismantled its logic and insulted its creator’s self-esteem, the whole thing would unravel, new story and all.

‘And it worked.’

Yay.

Just then, A-squad’s leader looked at me and slowly spoke.

“You explain this… very casually, Soleum-ssi.”

Whoops.

“Well, it’s not exactly the standard method. You could call it a shortcut, if you’d like.”

Did I step on her toes?

I quickly added, dropping my head apologetically to show remorse. Hopefully, it would look genuine enough.

“Of course, I’m prepared to accept any reprimands.”

Yes, please, just let it be a scolding.

I waited quietly, ready for the next wave of workplace harassment.

But instead…

Clap, clap, clap…

Applause?

I looked up to see A-squad’s leader, her teal duck mask now removed, gazing at me with a mix of surprise and satisfaction.

“You follow rules and orders. But you don’t shy away from unconventional means.”

Excuse me?

“Very good. That’s exactly the type of person we’re looking for.”

Me?

“Soleum-ssi. You pass.”

“What—”

“There’s a vacancy on A-squad. You know that, right?”

At that moment, I understood.

‘Oh.’

This wasn’t workplace harassment.

It was a test.

“How about you fill that position officially?”

“……!!”

My god.

This was a recruitment test for A-squad!