Got Dropped into a Ghost Story, Still Gotta Work-Chapter 148

Baekilmong Co.

A pharmaceutical company that somehow—impossibly—mass-produces miraculous elixirs that grant wishes.

Its main ingredient?

Ghost stories.

That was all the Dark Exploration Records had written about it when it first appeared.

No explanations.

Just enough to fuel the reader’s imagination—

The unnerving technology.

The mystery.

The cold, clinical cruelty.

The gaping holes left in its background.

That emptiness was what made it terrifying.

But as more records were compiled, more breadcrumbs emerged.

‘Worldbuilding happens over time.’

Baekilmong Co. didn’t just fall from the sky with a fully-formed, impossibly advanced pharmaceutical industry.

Even if it looked like it had—

If you dug deep enough, you could track down its origins.

That’s what made the mystery compelling.

And over time, the Dark Exploration Records slowly began dropping hints—

Little by little, scattered across reports, breadcrumbs that let the readers theorize.

What, exactly, is Baekilmong Co.?

And now—

I was standing in a place that proved Conspiracy Theory #2.

Conspiracy Theory #2: Baekilmong Co. Wasn’t Always a Pharmaceutical Company.

The true source of its pharmaceutical technology.

I swallowed, my throat dry.

And I began exploring the “Dream Incubation Lab.”

The dust-coated lab looked like something out of a shut-down school science room—or maybe a post-apocalyptic abandoned facility.

Everything felt dead.

The workbenches.

The experiment stations.

The shelves lined with beakers full of unknown liquids.

And at the center of it all—

A massive machine.

A hollow glass chamber, empty and dark.

At its base—

A panel of buttons and a keyboard, straight out of the early 2000s.

An old experiment device.

DREAM INCUBATOR

And next to it—

A research log.

The same one mentioned in the Dark Exploration Records.

I opened the aged pages and began to read.

Every single page.

The once meticulously written experiment logs had been completely obliterated.

Smeared with filth, blood, ink, and frantic, overlapping pencil scrawls.

Shrieks of madness and desperation soaked into the paper like something rotten, something festering.

"Hhh—"

I threw the experiment log aside.

And I forced myself to breathe.

‘I thought I could handle this.’

I couldn’t.

This wasn’t a narrative trick—

It wasn’t the usual Dark Exploration Records technique of obscuring information for atmosphere.

No.

The reason those buried words were never restored was simple—

It was too horrifying to even attempt.

"……."

I remembered something.

Back in the "Faceless Market" under the Manhole, a certain employee had accidentally succeeded in making a deal without revealing their affiliation.

Later, during company interrogation, they had given this report:

■■■ Agent: "Yes! I found it! The machine—it was old, but it still looked operational! It seemed like there were still stored Dream Solution samples and even some classified dark-related data! I was worried an outsider might get to it first, so I quickly—wait, what?"

■■■ Agent: "……You’re saying that facility doesn’t belong to our company?"

■■■ Agent: "……Wait. That place wasn’t corrupted by the Dark. That—That wasn’t why it was like that? The company—… H-hold on. Why are you pointing that at me—"

The report ended there.

Because the company had successfully ‘cleaned up’ the situation.

"……."

A chill crawled up my spine.

The silent lab felt like it was watching me.

I wanted to turn around and run.

I wanted to get the hell out of here.

‘No!!’

I forced myself to move.

The next step—keep going.

I gritted my teeth and scanned behind the machine.

There was a desk, an old office PC.

And beneath the chair—

Something rolled out with a dull thud.

A corpse.

Even knowing it was there, I still sucked in a sharp breath.

It had shriveled up, desiccated—

Like it had been dead for years.

But I already knew what had happened.

Analysis:

This corpse’s physical movement ceased five years ago.However, it was artificially kept ‘alive’ in some way.

The last researcher of this incubation lab.

Their vital functions had been forcefully extended—

Just long enough to complete a final trade at the Faceless Market.

The owner of the hand I had dealt with.

"……."

I carefully retrieved the special-issue coin from their left hand.

And then—

I plucked the ID badge from their neck.

Yu-Kwae Researcher

■■■

The name was smudged.

But one phrase was scribbled over it with a nearly worn-out ballpoint pen.

"DON’T GET CAUGHT."

However, the first syllables of their name were still legible.

‘…Yu-Kwae?’

Something stirred in my memory—

But I shoved it down.

Not now.

"Hahh…."

If I kept searching this space, I might uncover secrets about Baekilmong Co.’s true origins.

‘But what the hell else am I going to find?’

Even just that experiment log had been horrifying.

‘Stick to what’s verified.’

I turned back to the central machine.

The Dream Incubator.

Even though the Dark Exploration Records never described its exact function, they did state one thing:

“An old prototype, but still in working condition.”

I just had to figure out how to use it.

"Hahhh…."

I picked up the ID badge.

Then, I searched the machine’s outer panel.

A slot.

‘Here.’

I slid the card key in.

BZZZZZT—

"…!"

The machine lit up—

A deep, pulsing red and blue glow illuminated the dust-covered lab.

The glass chamber.

It wasn’t empty.

Something round was suspended inside.

‘…Is that the core component?’

Whatever it was, the Dream Incubator had restarted successfully.

Numbers blinked to life on the side panel.

DE 0000000

Next step.

I turned toward a small valve connected to the glass chamber.

Inside, there was a strange slot.

‘This is it.’

I reached into my coat.

And I finally took out something I had never dared to use.

A Class-A or higher Dream Solution.

A shimmering, holographic golden liquid.

Contained in a specialized extraction capsule—a piece of elite equipment from Baekilmong Co.

The last traces of what I had gathered from escaping ‘Brown’s Late Night Talk Show.’

I locked the capsule’s tip into the slot.

CLICK.

A perfect fit.

And then—

The golden liquid began to flow.

"…!"

It poured through the transparent pipes—

A radiant, multicolored glow filling one-fourth of the glass chamber.

For a brief moment—

The thing inside was revealed.

‘…An egg?’

A pulsing, crimson egg.

About five times the size of a normal one.

Something inside twitched—

And then—

It vanished.

Swallowed by the liquid gold.

DE 0000001

The panel’s numbers climbed.

The machine whirred, rapidly processing.

DE 00158313

And then, it stopped.

"…Success."

I had recharged the Dream Solution supply.

The numbers felt eerily familiar—

Like a point system.

Like Baekilmong Co.’s welfare points.

…Was this where that system came from?

I shook the thought away.

What mattered was—

Everything was going exactly as expected.

Now.

Time to use it.

I examined the control panel.

There were buttons.

Each marked with an emoji.

🥰🥸🤯🧐🤪🥱

‘Only these are active.’

Was it missing ingredients?

Or was this just the machine’s limit?

I picked the safest, most useful one.

🥸

A playful, observant emoji.

I pressed it.

DE 00158313 → DE 00148313

The numbers dropped.

The machine whirred.

The Dream Solution drained—

And then—

THUNK.

A small glass vial popped out from below.

"……!!"

I snatched it up.

A bright violet liquid, swirling in the light.

A printed label on graph-paper backing.

Children’s Detective Syrup

(Cherry Flavor)

★★★

I knew this color.

And with the emoji and name—

I could guess.

A Detection Potion.

A potion that reveals what you need most.

The color suggested at least a C-rank.

It was different from Baekilmong’s current lineup, but the effect should be similar.

But here’s the interesting part.

This potion was discontinued.

‘You can’t buy this anymore.’

Not even in the company’s internal welfare shop.

Which meant—

This prototype machine might be the only place to get it.

I had overcharged 150,000 points.

This potion only used 10,000.

Which meant—

I could press more buttons.

"Alright, then next—"

And then—

The panel changed.

06 / 23:59:54

And the Dream Incubator powered down.

A one-week cooldown.

"……Hah."

Honestly?

That was a relief.

If I’d gotten too excited, I might’ve wasted the Dream Solution.

I’d have to think carefully about my next move.

For now—

I kept analyzing the machine.

Specifically—

The buttons.

Each one must correspond to a different potion.

A mask, a demon, a thermometer, money—

Various emojis combined into strange symbols.

Each one seemed to correspond to a potion from Baekilmong Co.

Except for one thing.

‘…The Wish Granting Potion isn’t here.’

That’s right.

The defining essence of Baekilmong Co.—

There was no emoji that resembled it.

‘…Could it be this?’

At the very bottom,

I noticed something strange.

◎

As if a button had once been there but was forcefully removed.

"……I can't be sure."

Just jumping to conclusions in this world of horror stories would be a fatal mistake.

‘…Maybe someone else at the company would know more?’

If I brought a veteran employee here,

I might be able to extract more information—

in a safer and more thorough way.

Of course, that meant sharing a dangerous secret.

‘But some people wouldn’t care about that.’

I went through a mental list of potential candidates—

And then stopped.

Now that I was a corporate spy,

It was too risky to bring anyone.

And by the time I was done spying,

I would already have the Wish Granting Potion.

‘Put it on hold.’

For now, it was enough that I had secured my own private use of Dream Solution.

I took the Children’s Detective Syrup and stepped outside.

"Hahh."

The harvest was good.

But as I looked back at the manhole cover,

a slight unease crept into my thoughts.

That note.

‘If Choi Yo-won figures it out like I did…’

Could he track me down?

Would he trace my movements?

But then again—

There was no way for him to track which manhole I exited from.

And even if he decoded the clue,

it would take months.

In the Dark Exploration Records,

the ex-Baekilmong employee who solved the puzzle had taken three whole months.

And even then, it was by sheer coincidence.

‘If you're convinced it’s horror-related, your thinking gets stuck in that box.’

Still, the worry lingered.

So I decided to take precautions.

"This should do it."

I drank a 3,000-point potion from the company welfare shop.

Then—

I closed the manhole.

Gatekeeper Potion

The source of this c𝐨ntent is freёnovelkiss.com.

Effect: The first door you close after drinking this potion can only be opened by someone you personally tell its location to.

It was also nicknamed the “Secret Keeper.”

Something about it reminded me of Director Ho.

Which pissed me off.

But the relief outweighed the irritation.

"Alright."

Baekilmong didn’t have any insane tracking mechanisms for potion usage.

So I could rest easy.

For now.

Which meant—

It was time to go back to the Disaster Management Bureau.

Back into the horror stories.

I dragged my feet toward the hospital.

And sighed.

‘My life, man…’

But at least, from now on—

There was a secondary income.

If I had to enter horror scenarios anyway,

I might as well collect Dream Solution.

For my own use.

Not for the company.

"Let’s keep going."

I ran my fingers over the empty Dream Solution capsule.

Soon, I’d have a full stock.

And with that resolve,

I successfully returned to my hospital room.

And a few days later.

"…Thank you for your hard work."

"Ah, no, no, it’s fine!"

I had finally been discharged.

And I was back at work—

as a temporary agent.

"As mentioned earlier, you won’t be assigned to the Emergency Rescue Team."

Thank you…!!

I almost cried.

The bronze-rank agent continued.

"This time, you won’t face anything as dangerous as before.

No more civilian rescue missions.

Just simple cleanup work at the scene."

It was beautiful.

Yes.

This was how humans were supposed to work.

Moderate. Safe. Steady.

"You’ll just be driving a ghost around in the passenger seat at 2 AM."

"……."

Excuse me?