When Mikel arrived, he brought another batch of offerings for the dead, which they could enjoy during their "break." Unlike the past few days, he seemed far more energetic, clearly recharged after two nights of rest.
Arthur watched from a short distance, observing as Mikel spoke to the old ghost engineer.
"What am I thinking?" he mumbled to himself, trying to shake off the terrible thought creeping up his spine. "He wouldn't do that."
Mikel wouldn't harm the ghosts.
So why was Arthur jumping to such a malicious conclusion?
Yet, no matter how he tried to shrug off the idea, the doubt in his heart only grew. Especially when one ghost was already missing—and he hadn't seen the new hires since last night.
I should just ask, he told himself, sighing heavily as he cast another look at Mikel.
Arthur nodded to himself and marched toward him. As he closed in, he caught part of the conversation between Mikel and the old ghost engineer.
"Sure," Mikel nodded. "I'll visit it tomorrow morning, but the materials will suffice for tonight, right?"
The old ghost engineer nodded. "Tonight, yes. But if we don't get them by tomorrow, the renovation will be delayed for a day."
Conflict flickered in Mikel's eyes, but as usual, he masked it with a nod and a smile. "Got it."
Satisfied, the old ghost engineer noticed Arthur approaching. Casting him a brief glance, he nodded and turned back to Mikel.
"I'll guide the rest," said the old ghost engineer, bowing slightly before leaving.
Mikel watched him go before facing Arthur. "What is it?"
"Uh, Mikel…" Arthur cleared his throat, rubbing his palms along his thighs as he fumbled for the words trying to roll off his tongue. "Can we talk?"
Mikel blinked.
"I mean… somewhere else," Arthur clarified, glancing around at the nearby ghost workers.
Deep lines formed between Mikel's brows as he followed Arthur's line of sight, then met his gaze again.
"..." Keeping his lips tightly sealed, Mikel gave a short nod. "Sure."
Arthur led him just outside the renovation area. He would've preferred to go farther, but this distance was enough to keep the ghosts from overhearing.
He glanced around once more, and when he was certain they were alone, he faced Mikel squarely. His mouth parted, but no words came immediately. He swallowed the lump of hesitation in his throat and forced out a breath.
"Mikel." His sudden change in tone immediately drew Mikel's full attention. "I couldn't tell you last night, but… there's a concern from one of our lookouts."
Lookout.
That word alone was enough for Mikel to realize where this was headed. His fingertips twitched, and he shoved them into his pockets.
[Dead men tell no tales, but in this world… it's the exorcised.]
"One of the lookouts came here last night, complaining that her partner's gone missing," Arthur sighed, the unease in his gut practically materializing. "She said her partner snuck out two nights ago. I know the ghost probably just wandered off, but—"
He paused, studying Mikel's expression. "Ghosts don't just wander off and not return… not when they've struck a deal."
Ghosts might wander due to lingering regrets or unfinished business, but most here shared the same goal: to find peace and cross over.
[He is suspicious of you.]
I can tell.
Mikel didn't respond immediately, studying the restrained questions in Arthur's eyes… and the creeping doubt. He should've seen this coming after the Blood Chain had forced his hand—literally—grabbing Arthur that night.
These types of ghosts might be harmless, but their supernatural instincts were sharp. He'd observed that much since this whole ghost labor began.
[Once the seed of doubt is planted, it only grows. The only way it won't be is if you pluck it from the roots, Master.]
To back Doom's usual diabolical whispers, the Blood Chain tightened around Mikel's wrist. The grip made its intent clear: eliminate the problem before it grows.
The heat rising from the beaded bracelet forced Mikel to adjust his stance, hiding the tension tightening his throat.
"Missing, huh?" His voice came out rough, and he quickly cleared his throat. "And this… guy was?"
"Guy?"
Mikel bit his tongue immediately, catching Arthur's furrowed brows.
[Every word now will either free you… or trap you, Master.]
The lookouts weren't always paired male and female; the pairs were assigned randomly. So, how could Mikel know the missing lookout's gender unless…
A thick silence fell between them, both studying each other. Mikel kept a calm front despite noticing the suspicion brewing in Arthur's gaze. Arthur, meanwhile, wrestled with his gut instinct and denial.
"Didn't you say our guy?" Mikel pressed, tilting his head slightly.
"I didn't," Arthur shook his head. "I don't think I said—"
"Really? I'm pretty sure you did," Mikel rubbed his chin, feigning confusion.
Despite catching the growing tension, he played ignorant and continued almost cluelessly,
"Anyway, what about him—or her? I'll take a look and see if they're one of the ghosts I already prayed over."
Arthur stayed quiet, his sharp eyes still studying Mikel. "It's the young one paired with the old auntie."
"I see…" Mikel nodded, then flashed him a smile. "I don't think I've helped him yet, but I'll double-check."
With that, he turned and waved dismissively. "He probably just wandered off. I'm sure he'll sneak back in once he finds his way."
Arthur watched Mikel's retreating back, wondering if he should just leave it at that.
Mikel did have a point.
But then Arthur noticed the bandage wrapped around Mikel's arm—something that hadn't been there last night. Before he could convince himself to let it go, the words were already leaving his mouth.
"About the new hires—" His breath hitched. He bit his tongue, but his eyes remained locked on Mikel's back. The soft chill of the night breeze settled between them. "They haven't come back since you left with them last night either."
Mikel stopped, but didn't even fully turn. Just a glance over his shoulder—and that single red eye seemed to burn through the dark.
The second Arthur met that gaze, the chill running up his spine screamed louder than before.
"Arthur… what exactly are you insinuating?"
Slowly, Mikel turned fully to face him. He stepped forward, his shadow stretching ahead like it had a will of its own, reaching for Arthur.
"Are you… suspicious of me?"
For the last two days, Arthur had tried to convince himself he was wrong about that look of hunger and something darker in Mikel's eyes. He excused it as exhaustion, as stress. But deep down, he knew—no teenager should carry eyes like that.
Tonight, however… he could no longer deny it.
It wasn't just the lack of light or the moon's shifting shadow. There was something else—something Arthur had been blind to until now.
Still, he held onto the desperate hope that Mikel would prove him wrong.
"No…" Arthur's breath trembled. "...But is there something I should be suspicious of?"
[Convenience is always an option, Master. You don't have to sully your hands. His doubt is already doing the work.]