Part One
The Ghosts Waiting for Work
The Next Day―――
Mukai walked through the shopping district, sipping a spiced latte.
The number of spirits had thinned out.
It seemed that Adachi had taken care of quite a few of them during the night.
A typical, roundabout way of showing gratitude for someone like him.
The remaining spirits must still have strong attachments of some kind.
Mukai decided to look for registered spirits who had applied for work assignments.
If he found any, he would hand them a number plate…
As for the others, he would take them to the salon…
He pondered over the plan while checking his tablet.
Most wandering spirits, when surrounded by a whirl of light,
are drawn into it and led to the underworld.
However, those with overpowering attachments to their families,
or those with problematic tendencies such as stalkers,
tend to resist the pull.
The Protection Division then forcibly escorts them,
sorting them into “normal” and “special cases,”
while the remaining ones are investigated as “work-requesting spirits.”
Now, what should I do…
There were already over two hundred registered numbers.
It wasn’t a task he could handle alone.
As Mukai sat there clutching his tablet and holding his head,
a woman watching from a short distance called out to him.
“Hey, young man. You’re new here, right?
What happened to that old guy before you?”
He turned toward the voice and saw a woman, around fifty years old,
waving from a seat at a free-space café terrace.
“The old man kick the bucket?”
What a mouth on her, Mukai thought as he walked over to her table.
“Mr. Takada completed his final mission two years ago and was reincarnated.”
“Oh? So, you’re the new one in charge now?”
“Yes. Mind if I sit here?”
“Go ahead, go ahead.”
“Mukai,” he introduced himself, taking a seat.
“You’re quite the handsome fellow. Tall too. And pretty young, huh?”
“I wouldn’t say that. I’m thirty.
Would’ve been thirty-two if I were still alive.”
“Well, you’re young to me.
Wait—does that mean I haven’t seen that old guy in over two years?”
She looked genuinely surprised.
Time tends to blur after death.
“Do you usually hang around here?
It’s the first time I’ve seen you.”
“Well, I move around a lot, you know.”
Spirits registered for dispatch rarely stayed in one place,
so this kind of situation wasn’t unusual.
“You’re registered for dispatch work too, right?”
“Sure am.
If you’ve been here two years,
then the last time I worked must’ve been three years ago.
I’d still like to take on some more jobs,
but no new assignments have come in.
You’re Mukai, right?
Don’t tell me you’re slacking off?”
“When did you register, exactly?”
“Me? Oh, ages ago.
My number’s three—
pretty impressive, huh?
A permanent number! Like baseball! You know baseball?”
“I do,” Mukai replied, checking his tablet.
Indeed, the single-digit numbers were all gone except for number three.
Real name: Sachi Kawano
Dispatch name: Aoi Yamakawa
Occupation: Manga artist’s assistant
Dispatched ten times already—
a true veteran.
When will she finally be satisfied? he wondered.
“There’s this one job I really want to do,” she said.
“I want to draw things like Heian-era court dresses,
or medieval European architecture.”
“Maybe you’re being a little too picky with your jobs?”
“Hey, listen—
your job is to support me, got it?
If you can’t do that, I’ll never find peace.”
“Yes, yes, I understand.
Just try not to wander around too much.
You can stay here or at the salon.”
Spirits with dispatch plates were connected to the underworld,
so they were rarely attacked by evil spirits.
Still, it wasn’t entirely risk-free,
so Mukai preferred they stay at the salon when possible.
But, of course, there were always exceptions like her.
“That place is boring!
I love to travel.
But I’ve gone all over the country already,
so I’ll hang around here for a while.
Make sure you find me some work, alright?”
Mukai gave her an exasperated look as she complained,
then rose from his seat.
