Since the day Doom came into Mikel's life, he'd always felt like he'd been dragged through hell and back—again and again, and then some more.
But never in all those days did he ever think he'd literally get dragged for an escape!
"Gah!" Mikel winced, his entire back searing from the friction of the rough road scraping against him. "Ugh!"
He arched his back slightly, mustering just enough strength to try and roll onto his side, but not fully. Just then, the chain around his wrist moved. Mikel glanced down, catching it loosened from the male ghost's wrist and reverting to a dormant bracelet around his own.
He froze, panic swelling in his chest. His gaze snapped up to check if the male ghost was still there. After all, the Blood Chain had latched onto him, and Mikel knew it wouldn't just let go without taking something in return.
A discreet sigh of relief escaped him when he saw the ghost still there.
[Do not fret, Master. The Blood Chain was fed—temporarily. Naturally, it siphoned what little spiritual resilience those fragile souls had left. The Blood Chain is not for such weak spirits to even think of touching.]
[Recommendation: Consider upgrading your labor force, Master. Current recruits lack the spiritual resilience required for auxiliary support.]
[Do you want me to initiate a recruitment improvement plan?]
Mikel scrunched up his nose at Doom's message, who sounded exactly like an HR officer from hell.
Just shut up for once… damn it.
The two ghosts slumped against the alley wall, utterly exhausted.
"Hah!" the female ghost panted. "Oh, my goodness—I feel like I might cross over at this point!"
The male ghost sat just as breathless. Being dead, there wasn't usually anything too exhausting anymore… but tonight reminded him that even ghosts had limits.
"I feel like my lungs are going to give out," he muttered, out of breath. "Reminds me how out of shape I was."
As the two tried to stabilize their breathing and spiritual energy, Mikel peeked over at them. His face twisted in disbelief. Somehow, they reminded him of his classmates. Judging by their old school uniforms, they'd be adults now… if they hadn't died.
Yet, seeing them like this—just kids his age in school uniforms, struggling for breath and complaining—made them seem like nothing more than teenagers griping during PE class, not ghosts with unfinished business.
When both huffed sharply and turned their gazes back at him, Mikel's face twitched.
Here it comes.
"Boss! What did you do?!" the male ghost suddenly exclaimed, pointing at the bracelet on Mikel's wrist. "What the hell is that thing?! How did it extend and latch onto me?!"
"I want to know too!" the female ghost shouted. "It felt like that thing was eating me alive!"
Mikel opened his mouth… then closed it again. Yeah, he'd seen this coming the moment the cursed relic latched onto the guy.
I can't lie my way out of this one, can I?
[You could—unless, of course, convenience is still something you despise, Master.]
The ghosts stared at him expectantly, waiting for answers. Mikel met their gazes, face unreadable despite Doom's sarcasm.
After a moment, he finally broke the silence.
"It's a curse," he muttered, his voice weary but laced with calm resolve. "Long story… but yeah, I'm cursed. So there's that."
A heavy silence fell on the alleyway. The ghosts exchanged looks, then stared back at him. They waited a beat longer for any further explanation, but none came.
"That's it?" the female ghost scoffed. "Boss! Don't you think we deserve a better explanation than you just… being cursed and carrying around a cursed item like it's some fashion accessory?!"
"Yeah! Why didn't you tell us before?!" the male ghost added. "This wasn't mentioned when we applied for ghost labor! And sure, we already agreed to the dangerous job of tracking down abnormal, malevolent spirits—but isn't this a bit much now?!"
"A bit much…?"
Mikel's brow twitched, his eyes snapping open.
Even through his overwhelming exhaustion, he managed to grab the bracelet just as it lashed toward the two ghosts.
The ghosts froze, their breaths hitching as the bracelet stopped just inches from them, like it was poised to drag them straight into the abyss. They gulped nervously, eyes flicking back to Mikel.
"Compared to the dangerous task I assigned you… is this worse than becoming a meal for a cursed relic?" His voice dropped, eyes darkening. The bracelet twitched again in his grip, a silent threat waiting for his command.
"If so… should I take that as you wanting to disappear without any closure? Fine by me—less hassle trying to stop this damn thing from devouring every ghost it sees."
Mikel tugged the chain back, making the bracelet snap obediently around his wrist. He cast a brief glare at it, then turned his gaze to where the two ghosts sat, pale and horrified.
"Think about it," he muttered, closing his eyes. "But remember what I told you… I don't forget faces. If I can exorcise a cursed spirit into oblivion, I won't hesitate to deal with you both the same way."
The ghosts gulped, watching Mikel casually settle back, utterly unbothered by the filth of the alley or the weight of their fear. But the weight of his words settled heavily on them—each a promise, not a threat.
And it reminded them: cursed or not, this teen was still the boss.
The same boss who'd had a psychological breakdown and snapped his own arm… and the same one who helped countless ghosts find peace.
At that thought, both ghosts shivered.
Wait… was he trying to break his arm back then because of… that?
Their gazes instinctively flicked to the beaded bracelet tightening around Mikel's wrist.
They gulped again. They'd only held the extended version of that thing for a brief moment, and they felt very exhausted and drained.
Just how much more for Mikel… who carries it every single day?
A fresh wave of dread crept down their spines.
"Eh—" The male ghost forced a laugh. "Boss, we were just kidding! You didn't have to take it so seriously!"
"Ha! Ha! That's right!" the female ghost added with an awkward chuckle. "It's not like we really meant it!"
"The job description might be a little… different, but hey! It's not that dangerous!" He fished out a talisman from his pocket, waving it. "You even gave us this to keep us hidden during the hunt!"
The female ghost nodded eagerly. "Just kidding, just kidding! No need to be mad!"
Mikel kept his eyes closed as they tried to laugh their way out of it. On the outside, he was stone-faced… but inside, he smiled faintly.
Thanks for helping me look cool just now, Chain. I still don't owe you, though.
But even as he tried to brush it off, a small, uncomfortable thought lingered.
Maybe—just maybe—in the future, this Blood Chain… and whatever else Doom decided to throw at him… would be the very things that drag him under.
And as the ghosts tried to laugh off their fear, neither noticed the ink on their talismans… quietly fading to gray.