She hoped that this time… someone might finally hear her.
He straightened the handlebars once again and brushed the dust off his pants, forcing himself to act as casually as possible. His movements were slow and deliberate, like someone who had simply taken a minor fall and was too tired to make a big deal out of it. Inside, though, his thoughts were already racing.
(Woah… not today. I am not talking to any ghosts today.)
Behind him, the ghost girl lingered for a moment, hovering in place as if uncertain. But when Doyeon climbed back onto his bike and continued ignoring her completely, her expression slowly changed.
The desperate hope in her face dimmed, and after a few seconds she drifted away again, returning to the wandering crowd of pedestrians. She moved from person to person once more, clinging briefly to their shoulders before drifting away again, just as she had before.
She must have assumed he couldn't see her.
Doyeon quietly let out a long breath of relief.
"Yes…" he muttered under his breath while gripping the handlebars again. "Now I really should go to—"
"Doyeon. Help her."
The voice came from behind him.
Doyeon froze.
It wasn't loud. It wasn't threatening either. But the way it spoke his name made the air around him feel strangely heavy.
Slowly, he turned his head.
Standing in the middle of the moving crowd was something… wrong.
People walked past it without reacting at all, brushing by as if it didn't exist. But Doyeon could see it clearly.
A thin cloud of smoke, gathered into the vague shape of a person.
It had no real face, no clear body— just shifting wisps of gray that constantly curled and unraveled in the air.
Yet somehow it still resembled a standing figure. One smoky arm slowly lifted and extended outward, its finger pointing directly toward the ghost girl who was still jumping desperately from one pedestrian to another across the street.
Doyeon frowned.
"Fuck."
He clicked his tongue and looked away again.
"Nah. I won't."
He grabbed the handlebars of his bike again, ready to leave.
But then something inside him shifted.
A strange feeling stirred deep in his chest, subtle at first but impossible to ignore. It spread slowly, tightening around his ribs like a quiet pressure.
He didn't know what it was.
Guilt?
Sadness?
Fear?
Maybe all of them.
Maybe something else entirely.
He tried to shake it off, but the feeling refused to disappear. Instead, it grew stronger, heavier, pulling at him in a way he couldn't quite explain.
And before he even realized it—
His body started moving.
It felt strange.
Like he was the one deciding to move… But at the same time, it didn't feel completely like his decision.
Doyeon slowly stepped off the bike again.
Then he started walking.
Step.
Step.
Step.
Around him, the street remained busy and alive. People continued passing by, talking on their phones, chatting with friends, carrying groceries, living their ordinary lives without noticing anything unusual at all.
To them, Doyeon was just another person walking down the sidewalk.
But to him, the world had narrowed into one single direction.
Until he reached the pedestrian the ghost girl had attached herself to.
The girl was clinging to the man's back like a desperate shadow, her hands gripping his shoulders as she cried silently against him.
Doyeon gently tapped the man on the back.
The man turned around slightly, confused.
"Yeah?"
But Doyeon wasn't looking at him.
He was looking at her.
The ghost girl turned too.
And the moment her eyes met his again— Her expression shattered.
Fresh streams of bloody tears poured down her face as she rushed toward him in panic.
"Help! Help! Help!"
She hovered closer, shaking violently.
"Help please!"
"Three days… three days…"
"Help…"
Doyeon sighed quietly.
His shoulders dropped a little as if he had already accepted that there was no escaping this now.
"Speak normally," he whispered under his breath.
The ghost froze.
Her frantic crying slowed, though her shoulders still trembled. She sniffled weakly and lifted her sleeve, wiping the blood from beneath her eyes in messy strokes.
For a moment she simply stared at him, as if trying to calm herself enough to speak.
Then she took a shaky breath.
When she looked back at him this time, her voice was clearer.
"Follow."
Without another word, she turned away.
And began floating down the street.
Doyeon followed the ghost girl.
She floated ahead of him through the busy street, weaving between pedestrians who had absolutely no idea she was there. To them, the sidewalk was completely normal.
To Doyeon, it wasn't.
Behind him, the man whose back he had tapped earlier stood there for a moment with a deeply confused expression on his face.
"ಠ_ಠ …The hell?"
He scratched his head while looking around. "I didn't even say anything… why did that guy tell me to speak normally?"
The man frowned.
"Is that guy braindead or something?" After another confused glance around the street, he shrugged and continued walking like nothing had happened.
Meanwhile, Doyeon kept following the ghost girl.
The further they walked, the more nervous she seemed to become. Even though she floated forward, he noticed the small movements— her hands fidgeting restlessly, her fingers twisting together, her shoulders trembling as if she were constantly fighting the urge to panic again.
She kept glancing back at him too, just to make sure he was still there.
Finally—
They reached their destination.
It was a narrow alley tucked between two old buildings. Trash bags were piled carelessly along the walls, and the air felt thick and damp.
The smell hit Doyeon almost immediately.
"Ugh."
He wrinkled his nose.
It smelled horrible.
Like rotten fish mixed with something sour and decaying.
His gaze slowly moved deeper into the alley until it landed on a small metal door embedded in the wall at the far end.
The ghost girl floated toward it immediately.
"Help… help…" she said weakly, pointing toward the door with trembling hands. "Open… please help…"
Doyeon stared at the door for a few seconds.
Then he casually walked over to the side of the alley.
And sat down.
The ghost blinked in confusion.
"Help?" she said again, floating closer. "Help, help me… why you sit?"
Doyeon raised one finger to his lips.
"Shh."
Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
When the screen lit up, the mysterious app icon appeared on the home screen— but Doyeon completely ignored it. Instead, he tapped the call button and quickly dialed a number.
The phone rang for a few seconds.
Ring.
Triiing. Triiiing TRUUUUEEIIIING.
Then someone finally answered.
***
(His uncle prolly.)
"Huh…? Who is this?" the man muttered lazily, lifting his phone closer to his face to check the caller ID.
At first he looked half-asleep, his posture slouched in the chair behind his cluttered desk at the police station.
But the moment his eyes focused on the screen, his entire expression changed. The name displayed there made his brows shoot up instantly.
"DOYEON KANG"
In the next second he was sitting upright.
The lazy look vanished from his face as if someone had flipped a switch. He answered the call immediately, pressing the phone to his ear with a sharp inhale.
"Yeah?"
On the other end, Doyeon's calm voice came through without hesitation.
"Uncle. Come fast. There's probably a murder or an accident here."
Captain Wonho's eyes narrowed slightly as he listened. Unlike most people, he didn't ask why or how. If that kid was calling, there was always a reason. His voice dropped into a serious tone.
"Where?"
Doyeon gave the location quickly. "Street ****, number ****. Corner alley. You'll see me sitting there."
Wonho nodded once even though the boy couldn't see him.
"Got it."
He then slammed his hand on the desk and suddenly stood up, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. His voice boomed across the police station.
"Guys! Emergency!"
Conversations around the room stopped instantly. Several officers looked up from their desks, surprised by the sudden shout.
"Three patrol cars!" Wonho barked, already grabbing his jacket. "And bring an ambulance if you can!"
He pointed toward the exit.
"No questions. Move!"
The officers reacted immediately.
"Yes sir! Captain Wonho!"
Chairs slid back, papers were pushed aside, and the once-lazy atmosphere of the station instantly turned into organized chaos as officers rushed to grab their equipment and head toward the door.
Among them, one younger officer hesitated slightly while pulling on his vest. He leaned closer to the man beside him and whispered under his breath.
"Uh… isn't this kind of sudden? We didn't even get a report… no dispatch call, nothing…"
The moment he finished speaking, several of the other officers slowly turned their heads toward him.
The man beside him clicked his tongue quietly. "Shut your mouth." He leaned closer, lowering his voice even further. "Our captain has… a special ability."
The younger officer blinked.
"What?"
The older officer smirked slightly while grabbing his radio from the desk.
"It's the reason he made captain in just one year." His eyes gleamed with something between admiration and curiosity. "Every time he gets a call from that kid… something happens."
The younger officer frowned.
"What kid?"
The man shrugged.
"No one knows."
"All we know is that whenever Captain Wonho's phone lights up with that number…"
He paused for dramatic effect while walking toward the door with the others. "there's always something waiting."
"A murder."
"An accident."
"Or some case that nobody else could solve."
The younger officer swallowed nervously.
Old officer: "Seriously?"
Younger dawg officer: "Seriously."
Another officer walking ahead of them snorted quietly.
"Some people think the caller is some kind of underground informant."
"Yeah," someone else added from behind them. "Or a mafia contact."
"Maybe even someone high up in the government."
The younger officer looked even more confused now.
"But the captain calls him kid."
The first officer shrugged again.
"Yeah."
"That's the weird part."
By then the group had already reached the exit, rushing outside as the engines of the patrol cars started up one by one.
Back inside the station, Captain Wonho lifted the phone to his ear again for a brief moment before hanging up completely.
"Wait for us, Doyeon."
The call ended.
Then he grabbed his coat and headed for the door, already knowing that wherever that boy was sitting right now— Something bad had already happened.
***
(Doyeon)
Doyeon slipped his phone back into his pocket.
He leaned against the wall casually while staring at the metal door at the end of the alley.
The ghost girl hovered nearby, still anxiously wringing her hands.
A few seconds later— Doyeon tilted his head slightly.
From far away, he could already hear it.
Police sirens.
Getting closer.