The radio just… mentioned the host of a ghost story talk show I know really well?


    For a moment, I thought I was hearing things.


    Driving a ghost to a cemetery at 2 AM while listening to the radio—it was a reasonable assumption that my brain was ying tricks on me.


    But then, a voice came through the speakers.


    [Oh dear, such high praise! I''m absolutely ttered!]


    "……."


    A voice I knew.


    [It’s a pleasure to be here, dear listeners. Allow me to tell you a story with my utmost sincerity….]


    I need to turn this off.


    No matter how I looked at it, listening to an A-rank or higher ghost story promising to tell me something ‘with sincerity’ didn’t seem like a good idea.


    Especially not while a ghost was sitting next to me…


    ‘Wait, hold on.’


    Wouldn’t it be better if its attention was divided?


    “Kekekekekekekekekekekekekeke, funny radio kekekekekekekekekekeke.”


    The ghost in the passenger seat let out augh.@@novelbin@@


    It wasn’t actuallyughing. It was just imitatingughter, a distorted mockery, an eerie mimicry of sound.


    A visceral kind of fear.


    ‘Damn it.’


    I hesitated, my hand hovering over the radio controls.


    The smooth voice of the radio host and the lively tone of the talk show guest continued their conversation.


    I kept my focus on the dark road, using their voices as background noise to distract myself.


    [Recently, the Purgatory Choir sent a special instrument to thete-night talk show’s band. Rumor has it that it was a gesture of apology and gratitude. Is that true…?]


    It sounded just like the kind of banter you’d hear when a famous talk show host made a guest appearance on a radio program.


    Casual updates, recent events, personal anecdotes, fan inquiries.


    The format was perfectly standard—but if you listened carefully, something was deeply twisted and chilling about it.


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