I’m the Only One Who Can’t See Ghosts

Having seen this sort of thing in Japanese prank videos, I thought it was just a dull hidden camera joke and chose not to fall for it, sitting still. But then the teacher tried to drag me out, and I had no choice but to run with her.

The principal, with a trembling voice, cried out for us to go home alive and meet again, promising a reunion. On my way back, I saw cars that had been in accidents, abandoned on the roads, and that was when I realized this wasn’t a prank.

From that day on, people began to see spirits. Those things that normally only shamans or mediums could see, what they call ghosts.

Of course, I still can’t see ghosts.

* * *

Still, I pretended to see ghosts. If one asked why I lived like this, it was because a nail that sticks out gets hammered down. Ever since everyone awakened to the ability to see spirits, this world, engulfed in madness and terror, had been unforgiving to those who stood out.

There was a video from the US of a boy being bullied because his soul looked like a demon. The boy cried, insisting he wasn’t a demon, but people only tried to exorcise him, holding crosses and reciting the Bible. Among them was the boy’s own mother.

Then, a man, unable to bear the fear, fired a 12-gauge shotgun at the boy. But, fortunately avoiding the shot, the boy with his tiny hands killed the man. Even then, the boy kept crying.

People couldn’t see the body within the soul. No matter how much the boy claimed he hadn’t changed, it was futile. Thus, no one saw the boy’s tears.

The comments on the video read:

<Such a creature should be sent straight to the gallows. Better deal with it while it’s young before it grows out of control.>

That was the most popular comment.

Almost all the comments shared a similar sentiment.

“Haa.”

I looked in the mirror. A decently handsome guy in a suit was smiling awkwardly. Of course, the decently handsome guy here was me. Objectively I was recognized as handsome (family certified), so I took it as a compliment.

“If I fail this interview too, I’m done for...”

This was my thirtieth interview. If I didn’t get this job, I might have to start looking for the next one while being homeless. As it was, those weird medium guys (they seem like a psychokinetic to me) had taken all the part-time jobs. There weren’t many places to work.

They supposedly used deranged souls for unpaid labor. Honestly, I was not sure if souls really existed, but hearing that made me think that capitalism was scarier than vengeful spirits. Having to work part-time even in death.

“But I’m grateful there are still places like this.”

The place I lived in was a newly built officetel on the outskirts of Seoul, yet the rent, including management fees, was only 50,000 won a month.

Of course, with such low rent, there were minor issues like noise at night or having to clean the hallway myself.

But aside from that, it was an incredibly sweet deal. Despite being such a great place to live, there were only three neighbors. It was probably because this place was known for its ghosts.

The neighbors consisted of:

A runaway girl, a middle-aged man always clinging to a bottle of liquor, and a crazy woman living in the basement.

They were the typical mix of people one would find anywhere. Still, after living together for a few years, we had developed a certain camaraderie.

“Hey, mister, why are you sleeping on the floor again instead of in your house?”

I had grown fond enough of the drunken middle-aged man to wake him up when he passed out in the hallway.

“Ugh. Uhh. Oh. Is it morning?”

“Yes, it’s morning.”

He got up, staggering. He didn’t smell like alcohol, but he grimaced in pain, probably from a headache. Could it be, had he encountered a ghost? It didn’t seem like the officetel was experiencing any paranormal activity lately.

“Hahahaha, it’s been a while since I’ve been hit like this. I didn’t even go through this much when I went on that hellish expedition.”

Hellish expedition? Like some kind of extreme military training? I had never heard about him being in the military.

I supported the unsteady man. He didn’t seem to be affected by ghosts, given he was talking coherently.

“But how come you’re totally fine?”

“...?”

“Even I had a tough night. And here you are, perfectly fine? What, really, I don’t get why a monster like you isn’t more well-known.”

“I didn’t drink with you last night. Mister, you need to sober up.”

Suddenly, the man was calling my drinking capacity monstrous.

It seemed like he mistook me for someone he drunk with last night.

Was this what alcohol-induced dementia looks like?”

Or maybe he was bewitched by a ghost.

But that couldn’t be it, right?

It wasn’t the season for this officetel to have its ‘outbursts.’

The outburst season was last week, so it must be the alcohol affecting the old man.

After casually dumping the neighbor in his house, I headed out.

I walked through the gloomy hallway and took the elevator. The old elevator made creaking noises, but what more could one expect from a 50,000 won residence?

“It’s really outrageous that we don’t even get delivery service in Seoul.”

No buses or taxis come near my officetel. The local businesses had completely failed, and the surrounding area was just full of empty buildings. It took a few minutes of brisk walking through the alleys before reaching a place that smelled of people.

And the so-called lively area? Just shacks with charms plastered all over their walls and doors.

“Those charms must cost over a hundred thousand won each. The cost of the charms is probably more than the rent.”

The shamans who painted those charms,

They probably own apartments in Gangnam by now.

Even shamans worshipping minor deities made more money than doctors. Even politicians groveled before those serving higher deities.

Ha, who knew being a shaman could be such a lucrative profession? Once upon a time, I also had some connections with shamans.

But that was all in the past now.

“...”

Sometimes, just the thought of something could pierce one’s heart.

I boarded the bus without naming that sharp, stabbing feeling.

* * *

“Mr. Yoo Hajin?”

“Yes!”

“Hmm. Your soul is quite ordinary. Do you have any special spiritual abilities?”

“Well, no special abilities, but I do have a special kind of dedication!”

“Ah. I see.”

I realized it just 10 minutes into the interview.

I had failed this one too.

“Wow. The muscles of your spirit body are impressive!”

“Yes. My soul partly takes the form of a gorilla.”

With that statement, the man pounded his chest. To me, this guy seemed even weaker than I was.

But the interviewers thought differently.

“Impressive confidence.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, the person next to you. You said you have spiritual abilities?”

“Yes. My spiritual ability is...”

And throughout the interview, I didn’t get a single question.

So there I was, having botched the interview, stopping by a convenience store. I grabbed a bag of snacks on sale and some soju, then took a seat.

“Life sucks.”

What was the point of spiritual abilities in an IT company interview? Will my ancestors code on my behalf? Or perhaps they expect a program to exorcise internet ghosts that do nothing but eat and spew nonsense online?

“That can’t be it.”

According to Jamsuni, the website already had an unpaid administrator managing such spirits. I heard this golden, glowing admin didn’t take any money and watches the site 24/7.

“In my opinion, that administrator seems more like a ghost.”

As I downed the soju, I wondered.

Why didn’t I have any spiritual abilities?

Not even the ‘ghost-seeing’ eyes that even newborns have.

“In an era where even the blind can sense ghosts, I am the only one...”

The soju tasted bitter.

Maybe because it had been a while since I last drank it.

I was just about to grab another snack when...

Boom- Bang-

A loud explosion sounded in the distance.

Followed by the wail of police sirens.

“Another chaos.”

Explosions and sirens in the evening.

Just another ordinary night in Seoul.

In reality, having spiritual abilities or handling a spirit body means possessing supernatural powers. And just as a powerful superhuman could pull out the Golden Gate Bridge and spin it around, a strong spiritual power wielder could turn a small city into literal hell.

What could possibly scare those walking strategic weapons?

They would confidently take on a country and not expect to lose. Naturally, they would scoff at something like public authority.

Boom- Bang-

Eventually, the police cars started fleeing with their sirens wailing. The so-called protectors of the people were running scared, afraid their batons would break.

When I turned around, even the convenience store clerk had fled.

Should I run too?

But seeing the swaggering approach of the man, any desire to flee vanished.

“It’s just that guy...”

Just a fat man in a suit, his hair half gone, and his posture a bit stooped. He didn’t look particularly strong.

But his expression was incredibly arrogant. So smug that even a real god would seem annoying with that look.

“You little fake cops. How dare you mess with Lord Cheonsu’s business?”

His voice was a bit comical. But what happened next was not funny at all. A policewoman, helping evacuate civilians a little distance away, was grabbed by something invisible.

“Aaaahhh!”

The person being helped by the policewoman started panicking and running away, as if they had seen something they shouldn’t have. Others nearby also fled in terror, as if a real monster was in their midst.

The scared officer was trembling.

“Try to justify yourself. How dare a mere servant of secular power tread on the sacred ground of Lord Cheonsu, who serves the heavens in righteousness?”

“I, we just responded to a report...”

The policewoman’s excuses only made the man laugh.

“A report? Who made the report?”

“Please, do something about these tentacles. Ugh.”

“Tell me. If you tell me, I’ll let you go.”

“I, I didn’t know that place was Lord Cheonsu’s business. There was a report that girls were being gathered for some ritual, and turned into puppets. And then those girls were, were, being used or sold.”

“Hmm.”

The man’s face suddenly turned cold as he muttered.

“There’s a traitor inside?”

“Please, please release these tentacles.”

“Ah, I should let you go. As a disciple of Lord Cheonsu, I must keep my promises.”

His expression then turned vile. His hands were moving towards the policewoman’s pants.

‘That crazy bastard.’

“But you see, given the depth of your sins, and my spirit body requires quick release at each moment, or it gets difficult. Listen, miss. Stay quiet, and it will be over soon.”

“I, I, I have a fiancé.”

“Even better.”

Hearing that, I smashed the soju bottle.

On the ground lay an idiot, his pants halfway down, bleeding from his head.

It was summer.