That evening's ghost tour came to an end, and the group gathered in the sitting room of the Black Horse Inn. The money collector—none other than Elina—stormed over to the opera actor William Triss and called him aside without giving him a chance to speak.
"We need to talk," she said coldly.
The other performers looked confused. The chubby innkeeper scratched his head and turned to the kids gulping down water nearby.
"Wasn't his performance great today? What went wrong?" he asked, puzzled.
The others also shook their heads, equally unsure.
In a quiet alleyway corner, under the flickering light of a nearby kerosene lamp, Elina glanced around to make sure no one was watching. Then she calmly said to William, "A tourist saw you floating."
William's eyes darted.
"Did they? Maybe they were mistaken? I'm human. Humans don't float."
Elina let out a cold laugh, stepped forward, and grabbed William by the wrist. His expression changed instantly. He yanked his arm away like he was shaking off a dangerous threat.
"Where's your heartbeat?" she asked, staring directly into his eyes with unwavering authority. "And your... breathing?"
William flinched like a startled rabbit. He glanced nervously around, confirming no one was nearby, and then tried to sound threatening despite his shaky voice.
"You know too much."
"You're not allowed to actually scare people on my ghost tour," Elina replied, her voice dripping with the cold indifference of a capitalist. "You're fired."
William Triss looked like he'd been struck by lightning. He nearly collapsed to his knees, trembling as he pleaded,
"No, please... I really need this job."
Seeing that the creature before her was truly frightened, Elina crossed her arms and replied coolly,
"Come to my room at midnight."
Under the crushing weight of unemployment—and the implication of a potential workplace *unspoken rule*—William could only nod.
When Elina returned from the alley, the others had already collected their wages and left. The chubby innkeeper was waiting for her, as she had the key to the cashbox. She opened it, counted the day's earnings, and said with satisfaction,
"We made 1 pound, 3 shillings today."
The innkeeper beamed with delight. That was quite a decent income—and it was just the beginning.
After carefully recording the funds and locking the box, Elina left the happy innkeeper behind. He had only hoped the tour would attract more guests to the inn, but now it had unexpectedly developed into a profitable side business. He couldn't help but marvel at the situation.
Night fell. Back in her room, Elina waited for William to arrive.
As midnight approached, the unlocked door creaked open. In the candlelight, William crept in, softly closing the door behind him before sitting obediently on the vanity stool.
"What *are* you?" Elina asked bluntly.
William stiffened and pressed his lips together.
"I'm human."
"Then leave," she said, rising and walking toward the door. "Looks like you don't need this job."
"I'm undead. I'm undead!" William called out hurriedly.
Elina froze in place, her eyes widening—fortunately, her back was turned. She had suspected William wasn't entirely human, but she hadn't expected him to actually be a ghost. The realization that she was in the same room as a ghost made her skin crawl.
*Don't be scared. Don't be scared. I'm not human either. I'm scarier than him,* she told herself, sitting back down and folding her arms to hide her slightly trembling fingers.
"Why are you here?" she asked coolly.
William hesitantly reached out and touched her skin. Realizing she had no heartbeat either, he relaxed.
"I knew it… You too. You really scared me earlier."
Ordinary people might think their eyes were playing tricks on them, but only someone non-human could be so sure.
"Talk," Elina ordered. "What's going on?"
"It's that damn Inquisition's fault," William said through gritted teeth.
As it turned out, William wasn't the only undead. Much like vampires, the undead lived hidden among the 1.5 million residents of Luenton. Under the protection of the goddess Hecate, they could switch between corporeal and spectral forms—but they couldn't hide their breath or heartbeat, and the physical form was hard to maintain for long.
*That's basically a built-in transformation badge,* Elina thought, green with envy. But when she considered the vampire's strong body compared to the fragile undead in front of her—whom she could probably beat up with one punch—she figured the goddess was fair enough.
Due to a wave of intense investigations by the Inquisition, the undead were forced to scatter and flee. William, now on his own, wandered into Covent Garden, which was rumored to have already been swept clean by the Inquisition. Thinking it was safe, he tried to settle there. But…
"I ran out in such a hurry, I didn't bring any money," William said bitterly. "Rent here is crazy."
He could only scrape by doing odd jobs, barely affording rent and often going hungry.
"So," Elina asked, voicing a long-held question, "Why is the Inquisition so aggressive all of a sudden? Something must have happened."
Unlike nobles who had the wealth and connections to get information, the undead—hiding out in the East District among all sorts of shady characters—were surprisingly well-informed.
"They found a red-skinned creature with no mind of its own in the countryside. The Inquisition thinks it's the result of some ritual magic gone wrong. But they're convinced it's just the tip of the iceberg. There might be more red-skinned monsters hidden in Luenton."
As he mentioned the red-skinned monster, William shivered in fear.
"I've never heard of such a race."
Red-skinned Elina, the "monster": …
Her gaze wandered awkwardly.
She wasn't one to hold grudges. Learning that William was just a poor lost soul separated from his kind, she generously let him go—also because she didn't dare kill anyone, let alone a ghost. But she did sternly warn him not to slip up again.
"I didn't mean to!" William protested pitifully. "Staying in human form needs food and divine favor. I haven't had a proper meal in ages. I'm doing my best to hold it together."
That's why he was desperate to stay in the ghost tour. He could earn wages *and* gather fear to please the goddess. It was practically the perfect job for the undead. He couldn't understand why no one else had thought of it. Instead, they just floated around in translucent form scaring people at night—which, honestly, probably explained why so many ghost sightings happened.
Compared to Elina's *Ghost Tour*, that kind of haunting seemed terribly inefficient.
Indeed, once the first batch of participants experienced the Ghost Tour, word spread like wildfire. In entertainment-starved Luenton, the novelty of such an event quickly attracted wave after wave of visitors, keeping the staff on their feet.
The reviews were spreading too. Underneath the Ghost Tour sign, Elina added a bold new poster that read:
"Bring your friends and watch them scream."
"A game for the brave—cowards, turn away."
"Please ensure your heart is strong before participating."
"The most thrilling ghost experience in Luenton!"
Even the most timely newspapers had started printing visitor submissions.
> "...As I emerged from that dark alley, cold sweat drenched my back, but I was filled with joy and satisfaction. Maybe it's only after facing such overwhelming fear that we can truly appreciate the beauty of life."
> "...Jessica leapt into my arms, trembling, and I stood protectively in front of her, feeling an overwhelming sense of responsibility. After we left that terrifying alley, she looked at me with admiration and said she never realized I could be so heroic. In that moment, I was her hero."
> "...The classmate who used to bully me trembled in fear during the ghost tour. That's when I realized he wasn't as invincible as I thought."
Of course, not all the reviews were glowing. Some accused the tour of being a scam, using actors to fake hauntings and calling the marketing overblown. Elina nearly died laughing at those. Say what you will, but the ghosts in her tour were *authentic*.
These testimonials only attracted more visitors. To ensure the best immersive experience, each tour was limited to ten participants, and bookings were now backed up for several months.
Elina had no choice but to restart recruitment. This time, because of the tour's fame, even undead from other districts came rushing to apply. Their expectations were low—they just needed food and shelter. Even though she suspected many had murky identities, capitalist Elina couldn't resist the temptation. She signed them all.
The chubby innkeeper was demoted to her errand boy, tasked with finding a building to serve as employee housing. Technically, Elina had made enough money to move out of the Black Horse Inn and rent her own place, but she still had plans to perform a ritual spell on the beach. If successful, she could restore her appearance and return home, eliminating the need for a new place.
The day of the ritual wasn't far off. She scoured the city for the necessary items—golden mirror, white candles, parchment, quill, golden ribbon, pearls were easy to find. But the custom perfume made from jasmine, rose, and honeysuckle had to be specially ordered.
Beyond the ritual materials, she also had to consider her divine favor.
Back at the club, she'd heard that once divine favor had been tested, it didn't need to be invoked again. Supposedly, divine favor left behind a subtle, lingering sense—but Elina had never paid attention to such things. Just as she was packing her things, preparing to head for Brighton—the nearest seaside city to Luenton—she suddenly felt her divine connection strengthening rapidly.
She hadn't written the script for *Helen*, hadn't released a new paper doll design either. After some thought, it seemed the only recent thing of note was the release of *Spring Dream*.
Her expression grew complicated.