WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Natty
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◈ How to Rewrite Ghost Stories ◈
Episode 24: Twilight Market (5)
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“The answer is...”
Several answers sprang immediately to mind. The nature of this alley. The sounds that rang through it without end.
I looked at the gourd flasks lying before me.
Goblin riddles had answers. It only had to make sense. Especially when the question was a counterattack that relied on chance and uncertainty to defeat a goblin.
The gears spinning in the old man’s eyes made a furious cranking sound. He opened his mouth wide and laughed as if daring me to get it right. It was all or nothing.
I spoke one word with confidence.
“Rumor.”
The old man’s rasping metallic laughter stopped cold. At the same moment, the clocks fell silent.
With his neck bent at an unnatural angle, the old man stared up at the ceiling, then exhaled a long breath that smelled of liquor and lowered his head again.
“Why did you choose that answer?”
“Rumors travel a thousand miles without feet. A single false rumor can turn the world upside down, and no matter how holy someone is, they can’t take back words once they’ve spoken them. Rumors don’t care about rank, either. What else could be dancing around up there but a rumor?”
“Time could be an answer as well. Or what about a shadow?”
“Time orders people about, but it cannot command the whole world. If time could command the world, why would Daebyeol King have the Fire Dogs work for him?
“The same goes for shadows. You can’t carry a shadow over your head, and it sinks the moment the sun rises. It can’t travel a thousand miles. It can’t even move a single step.”
The old man burst out laughing. It was so thunderous that the shop’s walls shook from top to bottom.
“Here, take them! You probably couldn’t use this much even if you spent your whole life trying!”
At last, the gourd flasks landed in my hands. They had felt heavy in my palm, but immediately turned into tiny fairy-tale bottles and rolled about lightly.
“May I try it?”
“Of course. We’d know it anyway.”
Things made by goblins did not work on goblins. That was another useful piece of information.
I carefully poured out the oil I had and filled the lantern from a gourd flask, then lit it.
Blue light flickered from the lantern. It seemed to have a slightly redder hue than before.
“The color is a little different.”
“That fellow’s comes from Mount Jiri.”
“...There won’t be any problem with the effect, right?”
“Tch. Then put it back!”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant. Thank you. I’ll gladly take it. Yes. Yes.”
Appeasing a goblin was hard work. I quickly put out the lantern and stuffed it and the other things into my bag.
“Tell me some more stories. We’ve had enough wrestling.”
The old man seemed to be in a good mood. The gears in his eyes turned together with cheerful metallic clicks, and every time he burped, tiny blue sparks flew out.
I instinctively checked the time. Not even ten minutes had passed. I had plenty of time to trade riddles with a goblin. If I could get information out of him, I might even get something else.
“Sounds good. I saw you had a lot of excellent things when I came in.”
“What, want me to pack some up for you?”
“I’d like that. They looked like very fine quality.”
“You’ve got an eye! You need things like that to give the place a little human scent and bring in fellows like you. Not one of them ever brings buckwheat jelly, though. Tch.”
“Buckwheat jelly isn’t very popular these days.”
“The world is going to hell!”
After I played along for a few lines, the old man let out a satisfied metallic chuckle and began boasting about himself.
He told me where the goblins hid in this alley, which foods were famous at the night market, and how half the gold in the accessories alley was fake.
“Watch your eyes if you go to Lighting Alley! The optician there is a vicious bastard!”
I even learned new information that had not been specified in the ghost story.
Honestly, the goblin was a great talker. If I gave him one thing, I got three back. A little flattery, and information poured out of him.
The only irritating thing was the crackling noise I had been hearing for a while. This was an alley where I should only have been hearing clocks. What was that static?
“Don’t you hear a strange sound?”
“What sound?”
Had I heard wrong?
Oh, that reminded me. There was something else I wanted to ask.
I took out the card set.
“What kind of item does this look like to you, sir?”
The old man put his magnifying lenses back on and began examining it closely. The springs in his eyes spun in intricate patterns.
“It wasn’t made by old men, and it wasn’t made by a mountain spirit either... What a strange thing.”
So it was not from an Eastern folktale, at least.
After staring at it for a long time, the old man wrapped it in cloth again and returned it.
“This is something I shouldn’t tell you the purpose of.”
“You shouldn’t tell me?”
“That’s right. This is not something people like you can handle. It’ll probably only work when it is needed, at the necessary moment. Here. Take it back.”
I accepted the card set and nodded. The liquid that had sloshed within it when I bought it had congealed black.
As I turned two cards over as if shuffling them, a red symbol appeared and stopped on one side.
Bzzzt. Bzzzt.
An unpleasant frequency rang in my ears.
“I keep hearing that strange sound.”
“It’s probably the clocks. When their springs turn, space is bound to throb a little.”
“Is that so?”
I blankly watched the pendulum clocks hanging on the walls. Drunk on the old man’s stories and the rhythmic ticking, my thoughts drifted sluggishly.
So that one showed nine o’clock, this one showed twelve, and that one showed four in the morning. That one went from twenty minutes to forty minutes, and wait. That one was going backward.
Bzzzt. Bzzzzt.
Ah, so what time was it now?
I thought an alarm was supposed to go off. I had had plenty of time earlier.
“Your cards are speaking.”
One of the cards flipped to one side. One had turned black and rusted, while the other showed a red wave representing a frequency. Then a red number appeared.
0.
‘0?’
Bzzzt, bzz bzzzt!
At that moment, a shrieking voice burst through an enormous blast of static that seemed to tear my eardrums apart.
“Partner!!!!”
My earbuds shook. A massive alarm began hammering my ears in a steady tone.
“Hertz.”
My mind snapped awake.
Since when had I stopped hearing old jazz?
I looked down at my phone. My twelve alarms were supposed to be going off again.
I had carefully set them to ring every minute so I would not lose track of the time, yet I had heard nothing. They had definitely gone off. But I had not heard them.
Ah. Time.
What time was it now?
Cold sweat ran down my back. My heart pounded irregularly, and it felt as though I were dropping straight down. Why had I not thought about the time at all? Since when?
“Partner, you need to leave right now!! The gate is about to close!”
“What’s wrong with you?”
The old man shook with giggles. The clocks that had shown thousands of different times suddenly all pointed to the same time and began ringing noisily like they were announcing a death.
2:20 a.m.
Seven minutes and thirty-five seconds remained until the Ox Hour ended.
“I, I have to go. I’ll hear the rest next time, next time!”
It felt as if all the blood had drained from my body and then rushed back in. I barely managed a farewell as I backed away.
“Don’t leave so soon. There’s no need to worry about things like time.”
“No, I have to go! I’ll come back later!”
Like an immortal absorbed in play, unaware that the axe handle had rotted away. That was exactly me.
Damn it. Damn it. Damn it!
I sprang up as if kicking away my chair and threw myself out of the shop. The old man’s laughter mixed with the ticking of clock hands and washed over my back.
When I burst through the sliding door, the entire alley rippled as if it were mocking me.
I had to run.
I slung my bag over my shoulder and ran back the way I had come. I shoved aside unknown monstrosities and stacks of boxes that blocked my path.
Someone’s slender hand brushed the hem of my clothes, and a grotesque scream struck my ears, but I did not stop. The paths I had taken distorted in an instant, changing into unfamiliar scenery.
Fresh ■■ for sale!
Can you give me what I am looking for?
Come see the show! A show you cannot see unless you come now!
A new audience member...
Wait, is that a person?
A person?
A living person?
As the Ox Hour drew to an end, the effect that dulled recognition began to fade. The beings here were beginning to recognize the foreign presence.
I had to get out before they realized I was human!
2:23.
My heart felt ready to burst.
「How to Leave. Find a public telephone booth. It must have a design that does not fit the era. Insert coins inside. If the operator answers, you have succeeded. Tell the operator that you are leaving now. Then come outside and walk straight into the first alley you see. If you continue straight, the scenery will gradually become familiar, and you will be able to return. However, once the Ox Hour has passed, you will no longer be able to leave. Remember this.」
‘Where is it? It should be on the main street!’
My breath caught in my throat. My lungs felt so squeezed that I thought I might cough up blood.
But I could not stop running.
The scenery of the alley flew madly past me.
“Partner, to the right!!”
Beyond the corner stood an old-fashioned phone booth with nearly all its paint stripped away.
“...Thank you!”
Even saying those brief words squeezed my chest. I was close to my limit.
I threw myself into the booth and shut the door.
2:25:37.
‘Stay calm. Stay calm. Better to be careful than make a mistake.’
I picked up the receiver. In the silence where there was not even a dial tone, a prayer escaped me.
Please. Please.
〈Please insert coin or card.〉
‘It worked...!’
With shaking hands, I searched my pockets. My fingers slipped, and I could barely distinguish real coins from the strange coins I had received as change from the shops.
After counting them over and over, I finally picked out several hundred-won coins. Gasping for breath, I poured them roughly into the coin slot.
Clink, clink.
The coins fell. A beep sounded through the receiver, which had contained only a waiting tone until then.
Click.
〈Operator speaking. Where would you like to be connected?〉
A mechanical female voice with no inflection came from the other end.
“Please connect me to 0000. I am leaving now. I am going back.”
I tried not to bite my tongue.
2:27:10.
I had to wait for an answer. Only when my uneven breathing had barely settled did I hear a chilling snicker.
〈Connected. Goodbye.〉
I nearly threw the receiver back into place before racing out of the booth.
■■ for sale!
Receive a free invitation to a new amusement park!
Now is your chance to get new eyes fitted! The optician of Lighting Alley is waiting for you!
Everything about the income you have been missing out on! The ■■■■■ Cult will give you the answer!
The night market’s dazzling lights gradually turned into pale glowing eyes. A voice began to pierce clearly through the old jazz. Static had begun to creep into Hertz’s voice.
“The nearest alley will be the shortest route!”
The monsters’ gazes pierced me like arrows. I ran through their midst, where blatant hunger and hostility filled the air.
I could not look back. I could not respond no matter who called me.
I had to look only ahead and keep running until familiar scenery from my memories appeared.
2:28:01.
My lungs felt ready to split apart.
I ran around turns to the right and left in a frenzy. Then a market sign appeared before me.
Beyond it...
‘It isn’t closed yet!!’
The alley by the convenience store near my home was in the distance. Like a mirage of a wavering oasis, it was slowly growing faint.
I kicked off the ground once more.
The brightly lit alley, even at night, and the messy sound of traffic gradually came closer.
Fifty-five seconds.
Fifty-seven seconds.
Fifty-nine seconds.
“Ah, damn it...!”
A hair’s breadth.
I was short by exactly one knuckle.
The streetlight of the familiar alley vanished from my outstretched fingertips.
I was thrown into an alley lit by flickering gas lamps. Hertz’s alarm blared madly.
At the same time, the radio began broadcasting in a cheerful, pleasant voice, as if it were delivering a weather forecast.
It was a new update.
[Be careful. Your coordinates have been lost!]
[Ghost stories are activating nearby. The ghost stories currently identified are Midnight Slaughterhouse, Never-Ending Happy Story, and...]
[Watch your safety. A not-yet-unlocked ghost story is nearby!]
[Coordinates have been lost. Coordinates...]
“...Ha, ha ha.”
The current time was 2:29 a.m.
“...I’m screwed.”
I had failed to escape Twilight Market.
Footnotes:
The Ox Hour is the traditional Korean time period from 1:00 to 3:00 a.m. Daebyeol King and the Fire Dogs are figures from Korean folklore, with the dogs’ pursuit of the sun or moon accounting for eclipses.
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