The wreckage covered the entire South Block of District 5 — one of the poorest and most underdeveloped areas of the district. Since the incident the night before, it could've easily been mistaken for a ghost town.
After all, the chaos had been deemed a natural calamity, meaning no one — at least not this soon — was approaching the area, fearing another wave or aftershock from the so-called "earthquake."
To the living, it was a dead zone, waiting to be renovated when it was safe.
But for the dead — and for Mikel — it was an entirely different story.
In the South Block of District 5, ghosts from the neighborhood and wandering spirits alike formed a long line in the dead of night.
Mikel, having managed to repair a broken chair and a table from the debris, sat behind them with a notebook he'd picked up from the convenience store.
"Nah, nope!" Mikel waved a hand in dismay. "Can't do that."
The ghost — a middle-aged auntie with her hair rollers still in, wearing a bright purple dress floating with her — sat in the broken chair across from him, frowning. "Hey, kid! You said you could help us pass on! How can you not help me?!"
"Auntie, I can help you cross over, but leaving your family a fortune you never had? That's out of my league," Mikel said, slipping fully into the role of a head contractor.
Shrugging off the awkwardness, he leaned forward. "Alright, here's the deal: You get closure, or you get nothing. I'm not running a charity."
"Tch!" The ghost auntie clicked her tongue in frustration. "Fine!"
Mikel cast a glance at Arthur's daughter, who stood nearby. He pointed to her. "She's the boss of this operation. Tell her you're in."
The ghost auntie rolled her eyes but floated toward the little girl. Like the others, she bore a grave injury — a massive one. Half of her body was gone. If not for the long indoor duster she was wearing, everyone would've seen her missing lower half.
Mikel shook his head and turned his eyes to Arthur, who stood by the broken fence now serving as the entrance.
Arthur, acting like a dutiful gatekeeper, nodded and turned to the next ghost in line. "State your request immediately. Don't hold up the line."
The next ghost didn't answer, didn't nod. He simply walked in — without his head.
Mikel's face twitched as the headless man bumped into the desk, feeling the surface with his ghostly hands before finding the chair and sitting down.
There was no need to ask if the ghost could interact with things; Mikel already felt the table move when the ghost stumbled into it.
[He needs to find his head.]
"Let me guess…" Mikel cleared his throat, already used to the grotesque sight. "You want me to find your head?"
Since the ghost couldn't nod, he gave a thumbs-up over the desk.
Mikel scoffed, tilting his head toward Arthur's daughter. "She might get scared of you, but just start moving debris. On your right."
Without a word, the headless ghost got up and began working. He bumped into obstacles and fell a few times. Like a blind man, he felt around, picking up small stones and carrying them in one hand while continuing to gather more.
Mikel watched him go, eyebrows twitching. "How can he even hear me?" he muttered, then turned back to Arthur.
"Next!"
And so, the cycle continued.
Mikel's idea of using the ghosts as laborers had seemed genius at first. What he hadn't anticipated was just how many of them wanted closure.
Originally, he only planned to get help from the neighborhood ghosts. Arthur, though bound to the area, had some range. He'd rallied nearby spirits to lift a few blocks, though not all of them could. Not all were able to touch things, nor were Anchored Souls like Arthur.
That's when Mikel came up with another plan: word of mouth.
It became his best tool. More ghosts came in just a matter of a few hours, quietly hoping for closure in exchange for labor.
So there he was — a reluctant contractor and ghost therapist rolled into one — unsure how things got messier or how long he could keep it up before losing his mind.
Ghosts didn't come with instruction manuals, after all. And yet, there he was — scribbling names, solving grudges, and pretending like he had a damn clue what he was doing.
---
Hours later…
"That bitch…! If I hadn't died, I never would've known she's been putting a green hat on me!"
Mikel buried his face in his hands, peeking between his fingers at the fat old ghost in a button-straining dress shirt and no blazer. Even in death, the man's buttons were fighting to stay closed.
Mikel had encountered countless types of ghosts at this point: serious, ridiculous, terrified, and now, chatty.
At the same time, he was starting to understand: every ghost had their own reasons for lingering, no matter how heavy or shallow they were.
Right now, he was stuck listening to someone's ghostly love affair.
[Even if I am his wife, I will find someone else.]
Shut up, Doom.
[You will exhaust yourself helping all these ghosts, Master. Not everyone needs help.]
But I do, Mikel thought, focusing on the ghost's ramble. Besides, I need to fill the crystal and gain some Soul Core.
[Soul Core from them? Not a bad idea. But filling the crystal this way is slow.]
Progress is progress, Doom.
Mikel offered the fat ghost a polite smile. "I can tip off your family about your will, but that's all I can do."
"Hmp!" The ghost harrumphed, crossing his arms. "You better! I didn't sign up for rock-picking and hard labor for free! Damn it! Even in death, debt and taxes are haunting me!"
With that, he drifted off to join the ghosts who'd "made the cut."
"That was the last one."
Arthur approached the exhausted Mikel with a smile, then glanced at the spirits moving debris and nodded in satisfaction.
"They could do this all night," he said. "If they keep this up, they'll have the area cleared in no time."
Mikel looked up, a tired but genuine smile spreading across his face. Following Arthur's gaze, he nodded. His exhaustion faded slightly.
It was a small step, but it was something.
[Not bad.]
"Yeah," Mikel muttered. "The only problem now is construction. None of them knows how to build a proper house."
Arthur perked up. "Now that you mention it… I think I know someone who could help. But I'm not sure if he's also a ghost now — or if he already crossed over."
"Huh?" Mikel turned to Arthur, just as the man smiled.
"I used to work in construction before I started selling at the market," Arthur explained. "My old contractor passed away recently. I had one of the wandering ghosts check, since I can't leave the area."
He hesitated. "I'm sorry, I made a decision without asking. I promised him you'd help if he found my boss."
"Oh." Mikel blinked and caught a figure in the corner of his eye. Turning, he saw an old man in funeral clothes standing idly near the broken entrance to the "construction site."
Next to him was a younger ghost flashing a peace sign. He quickly realized this young ghost was the wandering spirit Arthur had asked to find his late boss.
Mikel laughed softly and turned back to Arthur. The old man had been more helpful than expected.
See, Doom? Good thing I didn't exorcise him right away.
[... I am impressed.]
Mikel gave Arthur a thankful smile. "Thanks."
"You're welcome, boss. This is going to be tough," Arthur quipped. Try not to overwork yourself to death."