There was a knock on the door.
Daryl looked up from where he was sitting, his brow furrowing almost immediately, because no one ever knocked on his door unless something was wrong. Slowly, and a little cautiously, he stood and walked over, keeping his steps quiet as he leaned in toward the door and checked through the peephole.
A young woman stood outside.
She had long red hair that fell neatly down her back, catching the hallway light as she glanced around like she wasn't entirely comfortable being there. Daryl blinked once, then twice, before recognition hit him.
The landlady's granddaughter.
He hesitated, then opened the door.
"Uh," he said awkwardly. "Hello."
She turned toward him.
"Yes?" she replied, her tone neutral but curious.
"Are you the one living here?" she asked.
"Yeah," Daryl said quickly. "That's me."
She nodded once.
"I'm her granddaughter," she said. "My name is-"
She paused, then waved it off.
"You can call me Lina."
"Oh," Daryl said. "Nice to meet you."
Her gaze drifted past him into the apartment for just a second, taking in the cramped space, before returning to his face.
"It's about the rent," she said.
Daryl scratched the back of his head, already feeling that familiar knot forming in his stomach.
"…Right."
"I'm short this month," he admitted. "But I'll pay as soon as I get it."
She studied him in silence, her expression unreadable, and Daryl found himself looking away under the pressure of it. After a moment, she sighed.
"I'm a college student," she said. "I'm not always home."
She pulled out her phone, typed something quickly, then held it up.
"Here's my account," she said. "Transfer it when you can."
Daryl blinked.
"Really?"
"Yes," she replied simply. "Just don't forget."
"I won't," he said quickly. "Thank you."
She nodded.
"That's all."
She turned and walked down the hallway, knocking on her grandmother's door without another glance back. Daryl closed his own door slowly and leaned against it, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"…That was close," he muttered.
Thinking about it, Daryl made up his mind to go back to the abandoned building and at least get his keys - that was if he could find it though.
Regardless, it could still make good content since it wasn't like the ghost and the other strange phenomenons were going anywhere.
First, he decided he needed to upgrade his gear. After all, despite his humiliation and failure, he managed to get a decent amount of money into his bank account. From estimates, he already knew roughly how much was in his account, and he figured it was manageable if he was to get himself something that could help him hold his own against those ghosts, because whether he liked to admit it or not, the truth of the matter was that the last time he entered, he was totally unprepared. But now he was determined not to make the same mistake again.
---
Later, Daryl walked down the street until he stopped in front of a small shop with a flickering sign overhead.
Containment Store.
He pushed the door open, a bell ringing as a strange smell washed over him - salt, metal, and old paper all mixed together. Shelves lined the walls, packed with talismans, bottles, charms, and tools that normal people shouldn't even be aware existed.
He moved slowly through the aisles, picking up two binding talismans and checking the price.
"Four hundred," he muttered.
Next came a small pouch of gray salt.
"Salt of the Old Dead," he read, hesitating before finally dropping it into the basket.
He picked up an iron nail - cold, heavy.
"Five hundred," he said quietly, already wincing.
With a sigh, he added a basic containment vessel and then a whisper coin, before looking down at the basket.
"…That's already a lot."
He headed for the counter - and stopped.
Someone was already there.
A girl with long black hair tied into high twin ponytails with pink ribbons, sharp dark eyes, and an outfit that looked like it had walked straight out of an anime. She held a pile of items - far too many items.
The cashier frowned.
"That will be fifteen thousand five hundred yen."
Her eyes widened.
"…Eh?"
"I don't have that much," she said, clutching the items as her voice trembled.
"No money," the cashier replied flatly. "No items."
Her eyes watered.
"I really need them," she said. "I'll die without them."
The cashier didn't move.
Daryl stood behind her, awkward and uncomfortable, telling himself to just pay and leave.
Then she turned.
Her tears vanished instantly.
She stepped closer - too close.
"Big brother," she whispered.
Daryl froze.
"…Huh?"
She leaned into him, wrapping an arm around his waist and tugging lightly at his shirt, sending goosebumps down his spine.
"Can you help me?" she murmured.
His brain shut down completely.
"N-No," he stammered. "I mean-"
She pressed closer.
"Please," she said. "I'll be good."
"…Fine," Daryl blurted. "Just- stop."
Her face lit up.
"Yay!"
The cashier raised an eyebrow and began scanning.
Beep after beep.
Daryl's items first.
"Two thousand fifty yen."
Then hers.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
"Total," the cashier said. "Seventeen thousand five hundred fifty yen."
Daryl felt something inside his chest crack.
"…I'll pay."
The girl clapped happily, kissed his cheek, waved goodbye - and vanished.
Daryl stood there.
"…What just happened?"
---
Later, standing outside the abandoned building once again, Daryl changed into thicker clothes, laid out his tools, and prepared himself with grim focus. When everything was set, he opened SpookTube, hesitated for a moment, then hit LIVE.
Viewers joined, and the chat messages began to move.
From the chat, he could also tell that MoonPetal was also watching the stream. She was the only member to his channel - meaning she paid a subscription fee to his channel on a monthly basis, and in return, she gets perks priority over others.
He swallowed.
"I need this," he said quietly. "So I'm going in."
He pushed the door and a gust of cold air rushed out.
The whisper coin vibrated, as Daryl steadied himself, took a breath, and stepped forward.
In the next moment, the darkness swallowed him and the door closed behind him.
"Shit"