When people said, "The more you do something, the easier it gets,"
Mikel had hundreds of rebuttals.
No, it didn't get easier. Doing something over and over again didn't soften the blow—it just taught you how to live with it. How to grit your teeth. How to suck it up.
It had been four weeks since the start of the home renovation. Slowly, progress was taking shape.
Despite the stress the ghost union caused him, it also made them more efficient. The weekly recognition sparked their competitive streak—though, in truth, it was the cake. That damn cake. The ultimate motivator of the dead.
Mikel eventually got used to it—their demands, their nonsense, all of it.
Did that mean things were easier now? Absolutely not.
He was just sucking it up because he didn't have many options. Or the right to complain, really.
And Doom's snark didn't help, especially with the damn screen popping up constantly—whether he was on the brink of death or doing something as menial as pooping. Like now:
[Side Objective Achieved:]
Learn Proper Incantation — ACHIEVED!
Reach 30% Crystal Status to unlock more Incantation Techniques — ACHIEVED!
Basic Adaptation and Combined Incantation — ACHIEVED!
Exorcise 5 Malevolent Spirits using new technique — ACHIEVED!
Exorcise 5 Cursed Spirits using new technique — ACHIEVED!
[Main Objective: Fill the Crystal]
[Crystal Status: 46%]
[Current Side Objective: Reach 50% Crystal Status to unlock more rewards and earn a key to the next chapter of the Book of the Dead.]
[Side Objective II: Sign your first Phantom Contract.]
[Soul Core Credit: 29]
Not to mention Doom's unnecessary data logs like:
[Digestive Activity: Stable.]
[Emotional Stability: Declining.]
"Seriously…" Mikel grumbled.
He cleaned himself up, and the sharp hiss of the toilet flush echoed behind him. Walking out of the cubicle, he stepped toward the sink to wash his hands.
As he scrubbed, his gaze drifted to the beaded bracelet on his wrist. It looked a little strange—like the beads had grown.
Not just that, but the Blood Chain's appetite was growing. The more spiritual energy it devoured, the hungrier it became.
Because of that, Mikel had to speedrun his nightly errands. His life—and the lives of his entitled ghost workers—literally depended on it.
Then there was the Book of the Dead.
Both relics were powerful in battle, but they came at a cost. Be it a fight for control, a drain on his sanity, or the relentless pressure of their presence… it was a daily war.
Did winning that battle get easier? Not one bit.
Why?
Because the moment he stopped fighting, the moment he gave in—they would take everything from him.
They hadn't said it, but he could feel it. Deep in his bones.
Mikel splashed cold water onto his face. His hands braced against the sink as he looked up at the mirror.
He didn't know if it was fatigue or stress, but the man staring back looked just a little bit older.
"Boss?" one of his ghost companions called from outside the restroom.
Mikel didn't answer right away. He just stared at his reflection.
Doom was quiet—and for once, he didn't know if that was a relief… or something to worry about.
"Never mind," he muttered, bending over to wash his face again.
**
Outside the gasoline station restroom, two ghosts waited patiently.
The male ghost was crouched down, counting how many cars had pulled in. The female ghost stood nearby, hands behind her back, looking around aimlessly.
"The boss is taking his time tonight," she mumbled, watching a van park near the station. "There've been a bunch of cars that came and went. Like three, right?"
"Seven," he said.
"Huh?"
"Seven cars. Three motorcycles," he replied. "That's how long he's been in there."
The female ghost pouted, staring toward the public restroom entrance. "Maybe it's big."
"Big?"
"Mhm." She blinked, tilting her head. "His dung. I don't remember him taking toilet breaks. Maybe he had to push really hard."
The male ghost wrinkled his nose. She claimed she hadn't noticed, but with her attention span, that wasn't surprising.
Before he could say anything, a man rushed past them toward the restroom. Out of habit, they moved aside—only to remember he couldn't see them. His hand passed straight through her shoulder, making her pause for a second.
"Oh," she said softly, blinking. She followed the man's figure with deep realization. "I forgot I'm a ghost."
The male ghost looked at her for a second, but said nothing.
Just then, Mikel exited the restroom, right as the man rushed past him.
The ghosts dropped their previous thoughts and smiled at him. The male ghost stood up to join his partner.
"Are you ready for tonight's boss fight, boss?" the girl cheered.
"Mhm," Mikel muttered, letting out a shallow breath. He wasn't nearly as excited as they were.
As he walked past them, the male ghost instinctively stepped back. The girl didn't—and when Mikel's shoulder bumped hers, she fell straight onto her butt.
"Ah —!"
"..." Mikel stared down at her. "What's wrong with you?"
She furrowed her brows, touching her shoulder where he'd grazed her.
What was that? She wondered, still feeling this slight electricity upon making contact with him.
After a second, a small smile tugged at her lips as she looked up.
"Nothing, boss!" she beamed, jumping to her feet. "Let's go! We'll fill you in on the way! Just like the scouting team said, the next spirit we're meeting tonight is way scarier. We couldn't even get close to it when we tried to confirm."
Mikel raised a brow but didn't question her mood swing. With a shrug, he turned and walked off, listening to her nonstop prattling about the ghost they were headed to.
The male ghost lingered, watching her quietly. "Did she… do that on purpose?"
After all, he hadn't seen if Mikel's shoulder really hit her, or if she just reacted to get his attention. All he knew was that she looked a little strange when the random man's hand passed through her.
"What are you still doing?!" she shouted, looking back at him. "You'll get left behind!"
"Ick—!" He winced and jogged after them, abandoning the thought.
But as they left, the light outside the public restroom flickered. Once. Twice. Then the bulb shattered on its own.
Their nightly errands had become routine—something the three of them were slowly getting used to.
To them, this was just another night.
But they were wrong.
Tonight wasn't just another night.