Got Dropped into a Ghost Story, Still Gotta Work

My hand slipped.

The coin tumbled out from the lower half of the torn plush toy’s insides.

“…!”

I hurriedly clamped it shut, pressing the two torn halves together as if that would fix it.

“Braun?”

But of course, there was no response.

The upper half of the plush toy merely slid off the bottom half.

“……”

No.

No, this couldn’t be it. Maybe it was because I was staring at it…!

“Braun.”

I turned my head and closed my eyes, pressing the plush toy close to my ear.

Then…

– ■■, ■■■■■…

“…!!”

There was a faint vibration from the plushie.

It was definitely a signal.

But it was incredibly faint, like the static from a stray radio frequency.

‘He’s still there.’

He was still there. In that case…

‘Bloodbathtub!’

Click. I immediately locked the bathroom door and pulled out the small, checkered bathtub with golden legs from the tattoo on my wrist.

The so-called Bathtub of Youth.

Thud. The tub settled on the floor, and I carefully placed the nearly severed plush toy inside.

Then…

I picked up the box cutter the unconscious passenger had dropped during the failed attack.

Without hesitation, I slashed my forearm.

Blood poured from the opened veins.

‘There’s no time for alternatives in this kind of emergency…!’

Cutting the unconscious guy’s arm was risky—he might wake up or I wouldn’t be able to stop the bleeding.

‘I can’t handle any more chaos.’

My blood spilled into the tub. The scent of wood and fragrant aromatics wafted through the air.

The plush toy began to swell as if soaking up the bath salt’s essence.

It was rejuvenating.

Its fur grew cleaner, shinier, and its pebble-like eyes shimmered mysteriously.

And then it started to expand rapidly.

It seemed to reach a threshold, soaking in the bath until it grew from keychain size to something that filled both my hands.

It now resembled the original ‘Good Friend’ plush.

Pop.

The bow-shaped hair tie snapped under the pressure and flew off, landing against the tub’s side.

The transformation was undeniable.

But, but…

The plush toy was still silent.

“……”

Holding my breath, I leaned in again, pressing my ear close to it.

The faint vibrations from earlier were gone.

The plush toy, its body still torn, merely floated on the aromatic bathwater.

“……”

I stared at it again.

The plush toy, now large enough to fill the small tub, gleamed as if it had just been handcrafted by an artisan.

But it remained severed.

‘Ah.’

The Bathtub of Youth restored youth, but it didn’t heal wounds…

“……”

I had known this.

I knew it, but I had tried anyway.

The Good Friend plush was broken.

I took a deep breath.

‘It’s fine.’

I could get another one.

Yes, I just had to get it from its original source instead of relying on the merch box.

The Cheerful Theme Park still existed. The Good Friend plush was a souvenir sold in its gift shop.

‘I was going to go there anyway, so this is actually efficient.’

I could get a new plush there and summon it again like before…

……

“……Ha.”

Who was I kidding?

I already knew.

The method for summoning a Good Friend didn’t summon the same specific being—it summoned ‘someone’ from the otherworld.

‘There’s no guarantee the same one will appear again.’

In fact, it would be strange if it did.

I had enjoyed reading the <Dark Exploration Records> for how different beings appeared with each summoning.

‘Ha ha…’

Ha…

“……”

I had no choice but to admit it at this point.

It wasn’t because of any mental contamination.

I had genuinely grown attached to this strange plush toy…

‘But who wouldn’t, right?’

After all, he really had been a ‘Good Friend’.

He encouraged me when I was struggling, got angry alongside me when I was mad, had deep conversations with me, and stayed up at night watching comedy shows.

He was the kind of friend who prioritized me without any calculation.

The kind of friend you could only meet back when you were a kid in school…

“……”

Okay.

Let’s see what else I can do.

“Maybe I should try sewing it back together.”

If that doesn’t work, I can search for a recovery item, dive into a ghost story that repairs items, or dig through any relevant information and attempt something new. There are plenty of options.

For my sanity’s sake.

“Let’s give it a shot.”

I calmed down a bit. The overwhelming panic I had felt from the unexpected incident was subsiding, replaced by a sense of clarity and calculation.

‘First, let’s clean this up.’

I reached into the Bloodbathtub and pulled out Braun’s upper and lower halves, dangling separately. I was about to neatly gather the stuffing and store the plush toy when—

‘Huh?’

A piece of fabric flapping on the back of the plush caught my eye. It was a small silk tag sewn along the seam that connected the head to the body.

‘…A tag?’

It seemed like the faint traces that had previously emerged during the last bath had now fully returned.

‘The Good Friend’s… product label, maybe.’

You know the kind—labels indicating origin, washing instructions, handling guidelines, or even a creator’s or buyer’s signature.

My gaze naturally fell on it.

The label looked properly formatted, with a structure typical of product tags. Strange, tiny, incomprehensible symbols were written in rows. But that wasn’t what stood out the most.

Across all that information, there was something scrawled in thick black marker, almost like a form of censorship.

Label Removal Required

[Ah.]

[So it’s here.]

SNAP—

A massive hand grabbed the tag.

It was a hand wearing an elegant, tailored dress glove. The thumb quickly covered most of the label’s text as the hand yanked the tag.

[Gotcha.]

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