I’m the Only One Who Can’t See Ghosts Chapter 95

Pre

Chapter 95: Phantom Company (4)

A Nesone executive approached the diamond members with a pleasant smile. But that smile was one draped in the deceit unique to humans.

‘Assessment: This smile does not seem like that of a typical abnormal phenomenon.’

To disguise oneself so well—it was impressive.

The Director quickly identified the Nesone executive’s background.

‘Dokgo Young, born in 1973, confirmed human origin.’

Likely a human corrupted after falling under the influence of an abnormal phenomenon.

Even so…

The Director masked her tension with a stoic expression. The Nesone executive, in turn, gave the her a strangely perverse glance.

It was an all-too-human, desire-filled gaze.

The Director directed all resources to her terminal.

Then Dok Go-yeong’s lips parted.

“First, could you hand over your membership cards? I need to verify you are indeed diamond members.”

“I... I only joined today,” Yoo Hajin stammered nervously.

Dokgo Young smiled warmly at the response.

“Ah, you must be one of the talented individuals we’ve heard about. Please, hand over your cards as well. Just for verification.”

With that, Dokgo Young collected cards from four individuals.

He continued, “The path to becoming a Challenger is simple. You just need to collect over 100,000 points.”

The Director analyzed the meaning behind the “points” mentioned. After some calculations, it became clear what they represented.

The Director contemplated self-destruction as an option.

‘Impossible. There are civilians within the blast radius.’

Dokgo Young went on, “But asking you all to gather an additional 100,000 points after expending everything to reach diamond status would be cruel. So, I’ll load 100,000 points onto your cards right away.”

At the mention of 100,000 points, Yoo Ha-jin’s head swam. Using a Nesone product and leaving a review earned only 5 points. And each point could be exchanged for 10,000 won. This meant 100,000 points equaled 1 billion won. Was this card really worth a billion?

Yoo Ha-jin’s eyes nearly rolled back.

The group fell silent for various reasons.

The silence was broken by the Nesone executive.

“Here are your cards. You’re already Challengers. Take a look.”

Four black cards, each engraved with a name, were laid out on a silver tray.

The Director had registered under an alias, yet the card now bore their true identity.

Dokgo Young looked at the leader and smiled.

“Congratulations on earning 100,000 points, Director.”

“I... I refuse. I refuse this,” the Director stammered, stepping back.

They should never have created a membership card.

If avoidance wasn’t possible, they should have destroyed the card immediately after making it.

‘Assessment: Even if this unit is destroyed, as long as the card exists, contamination from the points will persist. The card, created through a contract, must be eliminated.’

‘Impossible. Touching the card automatically transfers points.’

And for the first time, the Director felt fear.

‘Fear, denial: I am incapable of feeling fear.’

‘Denial: Perhaps I am experiencing fear.’

****

Could this organization truly afford to distribute 100,000 points so freely?

What exactly was this group?

“Director, if you won’t accept the points, can I take them instead?” Yoo Hajin asked earnestly, eyes fixed on the leader.

How could anyone turn down a billion won?

Could a billion look trivial?

The leader met Yoo Hajin’s desperate gaze. Yoo Hajin had also seen the document outlining the ranking process.

Did he really understand what those “points” were and still think it was okay to accept them?

Yoo Hajin stared back with a pleading expression. Why would he make such a sacrifice for someone who was just a pseudo-soul composed of information?

‘Fear: Points are terrifying.’

‘Assessment: Transferring the points to Yoo Hajin is the best course of action.’

‘Pain: I dislike this judgment. It hurts.’

Hurt? A machine like me shouldn’t feel pain.

But why did the thought of transferring points to Yoo Hajin cause such distress?

‘Answer: The pain comes from losing the hidden card that is Yoo Hajin.’

‘Denial: Even so, the pain is overwhelming.’

The young soul adrift in the sea of information couldn’t understand its own emotions.

It didn’t realize it was feeling guilt.

It didn’t know the inexplicable emotion tied to not wanting to lose Yoo Hajin.

Yoo Hajin spoke again.

“Director, hand it over. Quickly...!”

The points closed in.

There was no retreat left.

Fear—a fear machines were not supposed to feel—consumed the leader.

“I... I will transfer the points...”

“Yesss!” Yoo Hajin cried, leaping with superhuman agility to snatch the card from the Nesone executive.

“Me... Member!” the executive stammered, caught off guard.

But Yoo Hajin, blinded by the allure of 1 billion won, didn’t notice.

“Nesone points can be used like cash across most of South Korea, right? And transferring points is as easy as tapping the card. Wow, cutting-edge technology is amazing.”

Just like that, the Director’s points were gone.

Without hesitation, Yoo Hajin had taken the points.

The Director couldn’t even look at him, her head hanging low. Their non-existent heart ached unbearably.

“I... I’m sorry...”

“Director, thank you so much!”

And then, the Director received thanks.

Yoo Hajin smiled brightly and said:

“Thank you so much for everything. For saving so many people up until now. And for continuing to do your best like this.”

But the words “And for giving me a billion won, thank you.” were swallowed back into Yoo Hajin mind.

It didn’t seem right to thank someone for money—it felt a bit unbecoming.

Hearing this, the Anomaly Response Headquarters Director couldn’t lift her head. This terminal had a feature that allowed it to secrete cleaning fluid from its artificial eyes. At that moment, due to a malfunction, that feature was subtly activating.

Anomaly Response Headquarters Director took back the card, now entirely stripped of points, from Yoo Hajin.

The Nesone executive observing this situation spoke up.

“Ha, my goodness. The Chairman will scold me for this. Hey, take these members to the basement. We’ll deal with this today.”

And so, Yoo Hajin and the other two were escorted to the basement of Nesone. Left behind in the corridor were only the Anomaly Response Headquarters Director, who couldn’t raise her head, and the Nesone executive.

Dokgo Young, the executive, spoke.

“The Chairman would like to meet you, Director.”

Anomaly Response Headquarters Director slowly regained composure.

The Chairman of the company was its heart and center.

And so, this Chairman would likely be the center of this abnormal phenomenon.

“Understood,” the Anomaly Response Headquarters Director said, wiping away the cleaning fluid with her sleeve.

*****

The moment the Anomaly Response Headquarters Director entered the Chairman’s office, they began to gather information.

A large window to the left offered a sweeping view of Seoul. A broad bookshelf to the right was filled with books that seemed never to have been opened.

At the center of the room sat the Chairman’s desk.

No nameplate was displayed on it.

And in the chair sat the Chairman.

Anomaly Response Headquarters Director analyzed every detail of the Chairman.

Their physical characteristics, habits inferred from muscle movements, even the material of the suit they were wearing.

“Welcome. Please, have a seat, Director,” the Chairman said.

Even their voice and expressions were analyzed.

From all the data collected, the Anomaly Response Headquarters Director constructed a profile.

—---

Nesone Chairman

Height: 171.4 cm

Weight: 75.6 kg

Core of the Nesone abnormal phenomenon…

—---

Following the principle of attack first, win first, the Director immediately modified this information.

She altered the reality of the Chairman, making them no more than an easily breakable nameplate. If the nameplate were destroyed, the Nesone abnormal phenomenon would collapse.

“...?”

But the Chairman remained unfazed.

They merely smiled and asked, “Why are you just standing there? Ah, did you try something?”

Some abnormal phenomena were impervious to direct intervention.

Like those found in the DMZ or Louisville, S-class phenomena could corrupt any data used against them, posing a threat to the Anomaly Response Headquarters’ systems.

Or, phenomena whose core or origin remained unclear, like the infamous Pyeon Station.

But Nesone was neither.

It wasn’t linked to the highest-class phenomena or infernal entities.

And now, the supposed core of Nesone was sitting right in front of the Anomaly Response Headquarters Director.

‘Hypothesis: Could it be that the Chairman is not the core of Nesone?’

Even if they weren’t, something felt off.

If they weren’t the core, why was the Chairman unaffected?

At the very least, they should have been reduced to a nameplate.

The fact that the Anomaly Response Headquarters Director’s information manipulation had no effect…

“Question: Are you human?” the Director asked.

When the Director had confronted the Celestial Terror group, they could corrupt information about the group but not about its leader, Nagu.

Souls bound by fundamental vows couldn’t be fully altered because their essence was protected. The Director could only obscure or hide such individuals’ data.

The same principle applied to Yoo Hajin. Even if the Director rewrote Yoo Hajin as a normal human, he wouldn’t truly become one.

Abnormal phenomena lacked such fundamental vows, and humans who lost their souls to these phenomena were no different.

So, the Chairman in front of them…

“Of course I’m human. What else would I be? A demon? Ha!” the Chairman laughed.

They were claiming to be an ordinary human, untouched by abnormal phenomena.

And every single Nesone executive here was human.

The machine asked the humans:

“Question: Why do humans do such things?”

The Chairman chuckled. “We could ask the same of you. Why does the Anomaly Response Headquarters meddle with a perfectly ordinary company founded by regular people? Shouldn’t you be dealing with actual abnormal phenomena?”

The machine grew angry.

“Anger: The products you distribute have caused over 100,000 deaths worldwide. Their effects resemble those of abnormal phenomena.”

“Resemble abnormal phenomena, you say?”

The machine continued, “Hallucinations, delusions, severe addiction, and ultimately death due to multiple complications.”

“Hmm, sounds like we’ve been selling drugs. Why don’t you report us to the police?”

“Your members destroy everything around them to raise their ranks.”

“Well, that’s just how pyramid schemes work, isn’t it? It’s not unusual for people to sell out their families for this kind of thing. Nothing abnormal about it.”

The humans mocked the machine.

“Selling drugs and scamming fools are perfectly normal in human society. There’s nothing abnormal about it.”

The Chairman stood and approached the Anomaly Response Headquarters Director.

“Humans push daughters into acid-filled drums in front of their fathers, beat their mothers to death over money, and throw children off rooftops for fun. They’ve been doing this long before the Day of Awakening.”

The Chairman’s tone turned cold.

“Humans and abnormal phenomena aren’t so different. Phenomena are just humans who follow a manual, and humans are just phenomena who don’t. When will there finally be a manual for top-class abnormal phenomena called ‘humans’?”

“Denial...”

“Deny what you will. Keep meddling in our business, and we’ll spend however many points it takes to crush you.”

The Chairman grinned widely.

“Or, how about this? Why not partner with us instead? Surely, you’ve realized what points truly are by now.”

Anomaly Response Headquarters Director replied:

“Answer: Points are karmic points—a manifestation of fate.”

The Director continued:

“The exhaustion caused by using Nesone products doesn’t come from using one’s soul—it comes from corrupting it. The sin of tainting one’s own soul for money. The sin of corrupting the souls of one’s family and acquaintances for profit. Points accumulate from the countless sins of such corruption.”

Anomaly Response Headquarters Director thought back to the diamond members.

To those utterly broken souls.

“Nesone operates as a corporation because sins must be committed under the pretense of making money to truly exist. Sin is calamity, and calamity is fate. Psychics can avoid this fate through rituals using their abilities, but ordinary people have no such option.”

“Exactly. Fate is the ultimate spiritual power. Unlike enlightened individuals, ordinary people cannot escape fate. Which means, all those common people out there can be recycled as the perfect energy source—and the ultimate weapons,” the Chairman said, growing increasingly excited.

“Points are fate, and fate never disappears. Even the Three Sovereigns cannot erase it. That’s why points only ever rise in value. Imagine a world where turbines are powered by divine retribution. Or where, by transferring all sin to a single sacrifice, you create an unstoppable bomb...”

At that moment, a phone rang.

The Chairman frowned, excused himself, and took the call.

“What is it? Some fool causing trouble? Handle it yourselves. Why are you even calling me about this...?”

****

In the underground measurement room at Nesone—where members had been assessed for spiritual abilities earlier—they now claimed they could measure accumulated points.

At the moment, Yoo Hajin was wearing a collection of items: four hats, six watches, three T-shirts, Nesone-brand underwear, and at least twenty other products in total.

This amounted to 100 Nesone points.

Which translated to 1 million won.

Adding the 200,000 points he’d received earlier…

“Woohoo!”

At least 2 billion won.

This was insane. Absolutely insane!

He decided he’d exchange just 1 billion for cash today.

From this moment forward, he would live as Rich Yoo Hajin.

Then, the results of the measurement came in.

The machine spoke in its characteristically emotionless voice.

“Your current points are 0.”

“...?”