Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The sky erupted with a deafening thunderclap, followed by flashes of lightning and a torrential downpour. The lights, which had just been turned on, flickered and went out again.

As Lady Ghost and I stared in stunned silence, a black mist slipped through the window cracks. It landed on the floor and took shape, plopping down on the sofa.

"Is it some unwritten rule in the Ghost Realm to mess with the lights when making an entrance?" I asked Lady Ghost, who merely shrugged.

"It makes a grand entrance," Timothy said, staring at me with a dejected look. He clinked two beer bottles together and opened them, his face, like a Greek god's statue, etched with sorrow.

"What are you doing here? Did you get promoted?" I asked.

"I got suspended."

As expected, Timothy glanced at Lady Ghost, then at me, and took a few gulps of beer. His Adam's apple bobbed with each swallow. Sensing trouble, I decided to remind him that I had work the next day.

Before I could speak, Timothy sniffled, and tears fell before words could: "I've worked so diligently for so long, always following orders without question. Apart from my poor performance, what did I do to deserve this...?"

Something in his words seemed to strike a chord with Lady Ghost. She, who had just calmed down, started wailing again. The two ghosts cried in turns, their sobs echoing through the room.

I began to wonder if I should get a certification as a ghost therapist. Why did every ghost inexplicably treat me like their therapist?

They ended up staying with me permanently, though their constant crying was quite the disturbance.

Lady Ghost cried enough tears to fill an ocean. Often, in the middle of a meal, she would suddenly stare off into the distance, tears streaming down her beautiful face.

At those times, Timothy would start counseling her, using his work experiences as examples.

Halfway through, he would choke up himself, turning the scene into a chorus of ghostly sobs.

I calmly finished my meal, then went about my routine of bathing, sleeping, and working.

But I had clearly underestimated Timothy's influence. One day, while I was overwhelmed with spreadsheets, my manager brought someone over. Amid the chatter of my colleagues, I looked up to see Timothy grinning and winking at me.

"This is our new colleague in the sales department. Let's give him a warm welcome."

I clapped mechanically.

He eagerly sat down next to me.

"Hello."

"What are you doing here?" I whispered.

"I'm a civil servant in the Ghost Realm. Creating a new identity is a piece of cake," he said, spreading his hands with a somewhat sly expression.

Timothy was always eye-catching, whether as a human or a ghost, mainly because of his strikingly handsome face. Initially, colleagues from other departments flocked to see him.

But over time, no one sought him out. Once a handsome guy becomes your colleague, he takes on the everyday grind of the office, making you lose any worldly desires upon seeing him.

Moreover, Timothy's work performance remained abysmal. Gradually, no one but me wanted to work on projects with him.

Carpooling with him every day made me feel like we were living together.

To my surprise, one day I came home to find that Lady Ghost had turned into a great cook.

Lady Ghost had stopped crying recently and seemed much more clear-headed. She even started caring about my daily life, which touched me deeply.

Timothy, eager to impress me, volunteered to cook. Despite Lady Ghost and I trying to dissuade him, we eventually let him go ahead.

Lady Ghost sat on the sofa, watching me gently. I reassured her, "It's okay. If it goes wrong, we can just order takeout."

No sooner had I spoken than a loud "bang!" resounded through the house.

My kitchen had exploded.