The tattoos that ghost stories left on me were all text-based. One was in Latin.
: Socius :
This was inscribed when the membership granted by the blue dragon mascot at the theme park burned away. According to Braun, it symbolized 'special authorization', granting a type of access pass.
The other was in Chinese.
: 恩主 :
This appeared when the lodge caretaker's contract from the serial killer ghost story, the hanji burning over my skin.
However, because I lacked the 'qualifications', it was nothing more than a symbol with no real function.
If I had to choose one to 'enhance'…
'It has to be this one.'
"I'll be in your care."
The tattooist leaned in to examine the tattoo I had pointed to.
: 恩主 :
The reason for this choice was simple: 'It's better to increase the range of abilities I can use.'
It's (unfortunately) almost guaranteed that I'll be venturing into various ghost stories in the future. This means relying on just one superpower won't cut it.
'Even Chief Lizard had near death experiences despite his strength—it's clearly not enough.'
It's better to have a variety of abilities for different scenarios. Strengthening a single ability halfway wouldn't be as effective.
'It's more practical to make use of an unused tattoo.'
With Moonlight Tattoo Shop, I didn't have to worry about 'stepping on a landmine'.
The shop was extremely benevolent, so it didn't grant harmful powers. I could trust that the lodge caretaker wouldn't suddenly appear to strangle me.
Moreover…
I glanced at the Latin tattoo.
– Good child.
Thinking back to the emotional bond I seemed to have formed with that mascot, covering up this tattoo felt… wrong.
'That's a warning sign.'
As a dedicated reader of the , my instincts told me to avoid tampering with something that carried emotional resonance.
– Ah, it's finally starting!
And so, I made my choice, and the tattooist began her work. When she tried to show me several design options, I stopped her.
"Oh, please just proceed with what you think works best."
If I wanted the best results, I had to trust the professional. I smiled brightly.
"I trust in your skill, Tattooist-nim."
"...!"
The tattooist's eyes gleamed momentarily before she confidently gestured for me to lie back on the chair.
She also handed Braun to me to hold tightly.
– Does she think I'm a stress-relief toy? What an amusing yet rude misunderstanding!
But I felt no pain.
The tattooist donned intricate steampunk-style goggles and began operating an enormous tattoo machine.
'…Are tattoo machines normally that big?'
It looked as large as a surgical device, and for a moment, I was taken aback. Then, moonlight poured into the machine.
Bzzzzzzz—
The LED light from the ceiling flowed into the machine and concentrated at its tip.
The needle glowed like a jewel as it approached my arm, and following the instructions, I closed my eyes.
"..."
A strange sensation spread through my left arm.
It wasn't pain, tickling, or even pressure.
It felt as if old grime was being peeled away, my skin rearranging itself and fitting together perfectly—a refreshing, soothing sensation.
Tap, tap.
It was over.
The light faded, and following the tattooist's gesture, I opened my eyes.
"...!"
'My god.'
The tattoo now had a background.
It depicted a deep blue night sky with a full moon painted in a single bold stroke. On the moon's shadow, the characters were engraved. Around them, stars were scattered like a pearl-studded constellation, shimmering faintly.
Tap, tap.
The tattooist stood with her hands on her hips, as if asking if I liked it.
"It's stunning."
With a satisfied smile, the tattooist patted my shoulder before rushing to the counter.
"...?"
When she returned, she held a single pearl in her hand. It looked like it had been taken from the necklace I had provided.
'What's this?'
The tattooist placed the pearl against the tattoo on my arm. And it sank right in.
"...?!"
– Hooh, well now. Hmm…
– Mr. Roe Deer, this is truly fascinating. A 'pathway' has opened.
A pathway?
– Try gently rubbing the tattoo. You should feel something.
I raised my hand and lightly touched the tattoo, which, as if by magic, showed no signs of swelling or pain.
"...!"
I could feel it.
Between the layers of skin, there was a distinct 'gap'.
"..."
Carefully, I 'inserted' my hand into it.
When I withdrew it, I was holding the pearl that the tattooist had placed inside earlier.
'…A subspace?'
– Exactly. It seems that the uncharismatic lodge caretaker's contract included 'providing space' as part of the deal!
– After all, isn't it a servant's duty to provide rooms for their guests? It seems the artist found a loophole in the contract, enabling her to grant you a small space as well!
Wait a second.
Does this mean I now have… my own little inventory?
'Is this really happening?'
My heart raced at this webtoon-like gift—something I'd never expected from a creepypasta.
– Let's see… imagine a cube with a side length of about 2 feet. That's roughly the amount of space that's now 'connected' to you.
2 feet… about 60 cm.
Braun used that pesky imperial measurement system—typical of an American ghost story connection—but still, the information was genuinely helpful.
But now I had another question.
'So… is this space connected to that lodge?'
That crazy, murderous lodge should have disappeared by now though.
– It's uncertain. Where it's connected to… no one can say for sure.
– Only the original contract holder would know what kind of space the lodge caretaker had agreed to provide.
"..."
– It's intriguing, isn't it? This would make for a great bet! What shall we wager for the fun of life?
I would like to politely decline…
Still, considering that Moonlight Tattoo Shop never granted abilities harmful to its clients, I decided not to be overly wary and miss out on using this power.
'At least now I don't have to worry about secretly carrying items anymore.'
That alone was a huge benefit.
"Thank you. This is truly amazing and wonderful."
I returned the pearl I had retrieved, and the tattooist, taking it back, looked genuinely pleased and satisfied.
"Is everything settled now?"
The tattooist nodded.
"Then, I'll be on my way."
Just as I approached the entrance, the tattooist seemed to realize something and gestured for me to stop.
'What now?'
She rummaged under the counter with intense focus and pulled out a piece of paper. Carefully wrapping it in a transparent sleeve, she handed it to me.
'…A tattoo design?'
The moment I took it, I realized what it was.
It was a tattoo sticker.
And it was the exact design I had picked—the tomato tree. There were even three of them!
"...!"
Wait a second.
"Does this mean… if I wear one of these, I'll temporarily become 'brave', as if I had received the tattoo?"
The tattooist smiled and nodded.
'Good lord.'
An unexpected bonus.
"Thank you very much."
The shop owner smiled warmly and waved as if it were finally time to bid farewell.
I placed the stickers into my pocket—or rather, into the new 'subspace'— and, for real this time, grabbed the door to leave.
"Have a great day."
With a polite farewell, the door closed behind me.
Rattle—
When I turned back to look…
"..."
It was now empty.
As one would expect from a ghost story, the shop had reverted to a vacant space. Behind the distorted real estate sign in the glass window, the interior was hollow and lifeless.
'…That's how it's supposed to work.'
Moonlight Tattoo Shop could only be accessed once through the 'It Is Empty' ghost story.
'Maybe next time, I'll have a chance with a different ghost story.'
– Ah, what a unique and delightful experience.
I couldn't agree more.
"Roe, how was your exploration?"
"It went well."
That day, I successfully completed the 'It Is Empty' exploration without any issues and accumulated a decent amount of points.
The pleasant aroma from Braun's aromatherapy massage lingered for days. As for the enhanced tattoo, it disappeared without a trace the next morning, leaving only the original text on my wrist.
Still, the ability it granted remained intact.
'Let's make good use of it.'
With thoughts of the possibilities for my inventory, I conducted several experiments.
Three weeks later—
The ability hadn't proven useful even once.
"..."
Well, I suppose that's normal.
When entering ghost stories with manuals, the company usually provided all the necessary items, so there's no real need to smuggle anything in. Additionally, deployments to ghost stories without manuals had significantly decreased.
'Even the Alien Shop doesn't have anything particularly portable or worthwhile to go wild over…'
Ultimately, the ability had been relegated to a mere convenience for carrying existing items more easily.
'I did discover that it seems to be vacuum-sealed, so food doesn't spoil in there.'
When I placed an analog clock inside, the second hand remained frozen, but a digital clock would get its battery drained completely.
The rules were unclear.
Still, I hadn't encountered an urgent situation requiring its use. Time passed uneventfully, and I accumulated more points without much fanfare and without much need to use items or abilities…
'Still, it's a good thing to have.'
"Three weeks until the regular personnel announcement."
"Hoo-ah, hoo-ah."
"You'll definitely stay on this squad, right, Roe?"
"Yes, I certainly hope so."
The hottest topic among D-squad was whether I'd survive the personnel announcement and remain on this squad.
As expected from a ghost story company, injuries and scares occasionally cropped up, but I'd become somewhat used to them.
Holding onto the tattoo stickers like talismans helped me endure.
'I'll save these for real emergencies.'
I was gradually settling into the routine, becoming comfortable with the work and the decent personalities of my squadmates.
Naturally, this sense of ease didn't last long.
Three weeks and two days later—
Monday morning.
"Roe, you're here?"
"..."
The atmosphere had changed.
'…What's going on?'
There was an eerie calmness in the air.
The kind of stillness one might feel when leaving a final message for their family during a catastrophe.
It was the peculiar serenity of people bracing for tragedy. It was definitely not a good sign.
"Well… we're bound to encounter something like this eventually."
"It'll be okay! We've all got strong luck on our side!"
Supervisor Park Minseong's attempt at optimism didn't elicit a response from Assistant Manager Eun Haje.
The tension was palpable.
"Have a seat, Roe."
Instead of my desk, I was directed to the sofa. Sitting across from me, Eun Haje placed a tablet PC on the table with a calm expression.
"This is the Darkness you'll be entering in three days."
"..."
Three days?
'Why are they giving so much time?'
When something is scheduled three days out, it's usually framed as 'prepare just in case you're assigned'.
It's rare for it to be stated so definitively.
"Twelve people will be entering this Darkness. It's rated B-class."
"..."
"Don't be too alarmed. The survival rate is absurdly high. Plus, the additional points are generous—2,000 points per person."
"…And?"
Eun Haje's expression briefly shifted to one of bitter amusement, as if saying, 'You sharp little devil.'
"And there's a problem. Finding a Darkness without issues would be faster, but this one's unique."
"…Unique how?"
"The simplest way to put it… well…"
Eun Haje crossed her arms.
"It's a luck-based death game."
"...?!"
"As soon as you enter, someone is guaranteed to die. Completely random. Pure luck."
God damn.