Got Dropped into a Ghost Story, Still Gotta Work

"Please!"

Baek Saheon was practically screaming.

Even as he did so, he was trying desperately to keep his voice down—as if all he wanted was to slip past this supernatural disaster without being noticed.

But Agent Bronze did not undo the restraints.

Instead, he glanced briefly at the golden stick I had taken from Baek Saheon's pants pocket and asked a question. "What does drawing that stick mean?"

"What does it mean? It means I'm screwed! I need to get out of here before the holiday festival gets into full swing. Right now, out of this—" "You'll die?"

Baek Saheon froze.

I cut in.

"But earlier, the person who drew that stick was celebrated. They even said that person would have an important role in next year's event—"

"..."

His mouth moved, but no words came out. His eyes, however, glistened with terror and rage.

'A ban...?' (a forbidden topic or tabooed truth) I met Agent Bronze's eyes.