The Ghost Game Chapter 4

Before he died, the last call on his phone was to me.

It didn't connect though. More precisely, he hung up right after dialing.

So there's an outgoing call record on his end, but no incoming call record on mine.

The police come to ask me questions.

I was home alone, no alibi, but the hallway security cameras and building cameras prove my innocence.

Ryan's exact time of death was 2 AM.

He died in his rental apartment, on the couch he loved lying on naked while gaming in the summer.

Just like the earlier rumors—no wounds, no detectable toxins.

Except next to Ryan's feet was a piece of paper with a drawing of a tongue.

A tongue that had been ripped out, dripping with blood!

Isn't that exactly like what I saw last night in the game I played?

I call it a game, but I didn't even do anything—I just clicked on the pop-up.

I don't hesitate to tell the police about the game.

Their tech team investigates and says the ad's ID has been deleted, the URL is from an overseas site, untraceable.

The video was composite work—faces swapped to Ryan and Sarah.

All day today, the office is shrouded in a depressing atmosphere.

After the police finish taking statements and leave, I find Sarah to ask about the situation.

She says she did make plans with Ryan to watch a movie, and they even went grocery shopping together after work.

But after leaving the supermarket, Ryan got a phone call and stood her up.

Ryan was a loner with no family.

Since Ryan and I were pretty close, the company assigns Sarah and me to handle Ryan's funeral arrangements.

After work, Sarah and I skip dinner and head straight to Ryan's rental apartment.

Neither of us is in the mood to eat.

How could a perfectly healthy person just die like that?

The police tape is still up, but we can enter—we've already cleared it with them.

Pushing open the door, we see talismans plastered everywhere, but they're drawn with six-pointed stars.

Looking at the marks on the floor, it seems like some kind of ritual was being performed.

Suddenly, the sound of breaking glass.

Sarah, who was walking ahead of me, spins around and throws herself into my arms, her ample softness pressing against my chest.

"Ah! There's a ghost!"

I swear, I'm not trying to cop a feel—my arms just instinctively wrap around her waist.

So this is what they mean by a "willowy waist you can wrap your hands around."

I look around the room. There's a broken potted plant on the balcony.

The wind must have blown the hanging clothes, knocking the plant to the ground.

I explain this to Sarah, but she still looks terrified, clutching my hand tightly, hugging my arm, constantly pressing against me.

This... is clearly her taking advantage of me!

I tell her to wait outside, but she holds on even tighter.

"No way. I'm even more scared alone. Who knows what Ryan got himself mixed up with?"

So with her hugging my arm, she follows me as I search around.

After a while, Sarah realizes I'm not simply collecting Ryan's belongings.

I'm looking for something specific.

She asks what I'm looking for. I don't answer, just keep searching.