After handing the stickers to Kang Naju, I immediately charged toward a poster marked 'first 1 customer.'
"You really are coming out after me, right?"
"Unnecessary remarks like jokes have no place right now. That's the truth."
If this had been a movie, it would've been the most cliché self-sacrifice scene imaginable.
But whether it was her calm yet commanding expression, or her soft and persuasive words—I had no choice but to trust Kang Naju.
I reached out hand-first, jumped, and pushed my body through the poster.
WHOOOOSH—
A sensation of thick liquid enveloping my entire body washed over me.
My breath caught. Everything ahead was pitch black and invisible.
No smell, no sound—total sensory numbness.
A mild wave of vertigo hit, and then—
"How dare you just shove me in like that!"
The First Officer's booming voice cut through, and my vision cleared.
"GASP, HUFF, GASP... COUGH, COUGH!"
All the running had left me gasping to the point of nausea. Coughs kept coming, I was desperately short of breath, and the simultaneous relief made my heart pound twice as hard—like it might actually burst.
My white shirt was already soaked with sweat.
"Better get through immigration early so we don't miss anything."
"Dad said to go buy cigarettes at the duty-free shop."
"If you lose your passport I'm leaving you behind."
[Attention please—this is a gate change announcement for Save Airlines flight SB751 to Bangkok. Please proceed from the original Gate 77 to—]
The chaotic, bustling surroundings, the gate change announcement over the PA, the visible end of the moving walkway—everything screamed that this was reality.
I'm... I'm out...... For real....
If the luxury hall ghost story had felt like my head was going to explode, this one felt like my legs were going to burst and my heart would melt.
"There, there. Drink some water."
I practically inhaled the small water bottle the First Officer handed me, guzzling it down like it was the elixir of life.
While drinking, I rolled my eyes to the side—the attendant who'd fallen earlier was sitting in a corner wrapped in a blanket.
I checked the First Officer's ankle.
I'd expected it to still be swollen and red, but the ankle was perfectly clean—not a single bruise.
"Your ankle, First Officer...?"
"Oh, this? It was Type 2, remember. The pain's real, but once you're back in reality, everything resets. Type 1's a different story, though."
The First Officer drew a line across his throat with a grim gesture.
Relieved, I turned to scan the area.
'Senior Kang Naju isn't back yet...?'
That was when it started.
In this real-world space around the moving walkway, a loud rumbling and faint vibrations began.
Enough to make the water in a discarded plastic bottle slosh around.
THUD, BOOM, THUD.
"...Don't tell me the ghost story broke through!?"
"Nah."
The First Officer grabbed my sweat-drenched face and turned it to look the other way.
CRASH-CLATTER!
From thin air, a dark shadow condensed—then spat something onto the floor.
"Senior Kang Naju!"
"Running a bit late?"
Kang Naju's hair was slightly disheveled, but she hadn't scraped anything, and unlike the First Officer, her ankle wasn't swollen.
But strangely, she was holding her shoes instead of wearing them.
"Haha, told you to trust your crew."
Kang Naju smiled lightly, as if a weight had been lifted.
The only notable thing was the large sheet of paper she was holding.
'What's this?'
What Kang Naju held was none other than one of the countless posters that had lined the moving walkway.
The poster's front was covered—absolutely packed—with triangular stickers.
The item—the 'Restricted Access' stickers.
"This was both a shield and the key to getting out safely."
"Senior, what's that bloodstain on your sleeve?"
Just before I could ask how she'd managed to escape alone—
My eye caught the red splatters on Kang Naju's left shirtsleeve and the hem of her skirt.
She had no visible injuries, and I didn't recall seeing any stains like that before she escaped.
"How did blood get on you?"
"Oh, this is...."
For a moment, the thought that she'd been hurt while getting me out first detonated in my head, and a suffocating tightness seized my chest.
"Don't go feeling guilty. Even if you'd been the one who stayed behind, you'd have bled just as much."
Kang Naju pressed down on my head, telling me to relax my fierce expression.
"...What exactly happened in there?"
"I'll tell you why the blood was unavoidable."
Kang Naju recounted the situation as she remembered it.
"The blood on my left hand got on the clothes."
"Looks like it bled when you broke the poster glass."
"That's right."
The First Officer said, examining Kang Naju's hand.
"Why are you holding your shoes?"
"Haha, about the shoes—"
Kang Naju recalled the moments leading up to her escape.
CRASH!
CRASH-CRASH-CRASH!
'Relentless—practically trying to bite my heels off.'
After the rest of the team had escaped, the ghost story had gone absolutely berserk, she said.
'It's a problem when it's this close on my tail.'
Kang Naju took a deep breath, sprinted as hard as she could to eke out a bit more distance, then pulled off her black dress shoes and—
WHOOOOSH—
CRUNCH!
—nailed the ghost story's pupil dead center.
Both shoes. Both hits, perfectly on target.
GRR, GRRRUMBLE! GRAAAWL! GRRRRRRRRRAWL!!
The impaled eye bled like spilled paint, bright red spreading in every direction. The ghost story froze in agony and slammed its massive arms against the ground.
CRASH-CRASH-CRASH! BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!
'Now...!'
As blood streamed down, painting the floor into a red river, Kang Naju looked at the nearest poster.
Without an ounce of hesitation, she clenched her fist tight and swung down.
SMASH!
The clear glass casing shattered, spraying shards everywhere. Her left hand was pierced by the fragments—that's where the blood had come from.
Kang Naju ripped the poster free and plastered it with every last Restricted Access sticker I'd given her.
HISS, HISSS, HISS, HISS, HISS.
Veins bulged across the ghost story's clay-like body.
Then its body swelled and warped grotesquely, morphing into a hideous sphere.
White steam vented around it, and it launched its body directly at Kang Naju.
'Hah.'
Kang Naju scanned the area, found a 'first 1 customer' poster, gripped the sticker-covered poster like a shield, and deliberately fell through—back first.
CRASH!
Using the sticker-plastered poster as a massive shield, she blocked the entry point and held her ground.
Even though passing through a poster was supposed to strip away all sensation—she'd fought through on willpower alone. The thought left me stunned.
CRASH! BANG! BOOM!
The rampaging ghost story refused to let her go—it slammed against the barrier again and again, on the verge of breaking through.
But Kang Naju held it off with her entire body, and in the end—
"I escaped."
Maintaining that kind of stamina through nonstop running—just how exceptional was she physically...?
"Since it was Type 2, my injuries and the shoes I threw both came back. The bloodstains, unfortunately, are here to stay."
"So that's what caused the vibrations before you came out."
"The First Officer seems fine too. Everyone, change your shirts and let's get to work."
Kang Naju said, straightening her collar.
So this was why they called her Spartan.
Just as I was thinking what an incredible senior she was, I saw my sweat-soaked, semi-transparent shirt and asked:
"I wasn't expecting this, so I didn't bring a spare shirt. Is there somewhere I can get one?"
"The Cheonsu Airlines crew lounge has spare uniforms available. You can purchase one on the spot. And since you've officially cleared your first ghost story, Cheongho, this shirt's on the house."
After a brief exchange with the staff managing the walkway, we all boarded the bus back to headquarters.
***
The excitement of my first flight had brought me to headquarters early, then to the airport—only to return drenched in sweat, courtesy of a ghost story.
Cheonsu Airlines Headquarters, Cabin Building, first floor.
The spacious interior was neatly organized, predominantly in the same navy and silver as the uniforms.
A massive Cheonsu Airlines logo hung on the wall, alongside a display board cycling through today's flight numbers and weather information.
Throughout the lounge, various tables and computers were arranged so crew could check and print flight information from anywhere.
Further in were the briefing rooms, conference rooms, and a break room.
"You can purchase shirts and other items in front of the changing room over there. Just come to Briefing Room 1 at the scheduled time."
"Pfft— better fix up that face too. See you in a bit."
The First Officer looked at me and seemed to be desperately holding back laughter.
'Why's he making that face?'
In front of a space marked CHANGING ROOM in white LEDs, there was a desk that looked like a small clothing shop's register.
"Please state your class, name, and what you'd like to purchase."
"Class 32, Yoo Cheongho. I'd like one shirt, please."
"Ah, one of the new hires. Here's your shirt and your first-flight gift."
The staff member handed me a blue shopping bag with a kind smile.
Inside were the complimentary shirt, a mini carry-on pouch, a tumbler with the Cheonsu Airlines logo, a name tag, and more.
"Here's some cotton pads and cleansing wipes too. It looks like you've had quite the day—good work."
"Oh, thank you...?"
Not sure what she meant, I hurried to the changing room mirror.
!?
"Gah, my makeup!"
Reflected in the mirror was an absolute wreck.
Sweat had melted the foundation I'd applied that morning, and it was streaking down my face.
The scar being exposed was one thing, but my carefully styled hair was sticking up in every direction—matted and clumped—and I could only stare in horror.
'No wonder the First Officer was holding back laughter. He could've given me a heads-up...!'
Mortified, I scrubbed off every last trace of makeup with the cleansing wipes. My sensitive skin was already flushed red.
'Haha....'
I managed to fix my hair with the spray and blow dryer in the changing room. But my first flight would have to be with a completely bare face.
"Bwahahahahaha! You wiped it all off after all!"
"...A warning would've been nice, sir."
"Hahaha, sorry, sorry. Here, at least borrow my sunscreen."
I met back up with the First Officer, who'd re-done his own styling, and we headed to the smoking booth together.
"Oh, Naviq!"
"Ooh, First Officer! Cheongho's here too!"
Naviq—a permanent fixture of the smoking booth at this point—was standing there, about to pull out a cigarette.
"Just got out of a ghost story and I brought Yuja-cheong along."
"Yuja... what?"
"You. Yoo Cheongho—Yuja-cheong."
The First Officer smacked my back and fished a cigarette from his pocket.
"Haha, the First Officer gives nicknames to people he likes."
Naviq said with a laugh.
"Then what about Naviq?"
"My name doesn't exactly sound like pure Korean, does it?"
He had a point.
And just like that, newly crowned Yuja-cheong, I found myself standing between the First Officer and Naviq.
"Come to think of it, today's your first flight, Yuja-cheong."
"Oh, congrats! How're you feeling?"
"Obviously......"
'What does our Cheongho want to be when he grows up?'
A question from my uncle, long ago, surfaced in my mind.
'A pilot, of course! Hasn't changed!'
My confident answer—that was already over twenty years ago.
To become a pilot, I'd never let my grades slip. Thanks to my uncle, who worked at an aviation-related company, I'd gone on field trips and studied hard.
'You really want to fly that badly?'
'Yeah, more than anything. You're so lucky, Uncle—you get to work at an airport.'
'Different departments, but haha.'
A space so high and pure that no matter how far you reached, you could never touch it.
From the very front seat of a great aircraft gliding effortlessly through that space—
I'd dreamed of taking in a view of the sky that no one else could see, nurturing that dream day by day.
But life wasn't smooth.
Before starting high school, an accident had caused me to completely miss the window for pilot training.
And of all times, that's when the family fell apart financially, making it impossible to continue studying.
Between my surgery costs after the accident and my father's trip to the ICU, money was desperately scarce.
On top of that, my uncle—who'd been doing well—went missing just before I turned eighteen after leaving the hospital.
Disaster after disaster, stacked on top of each other.
'Dad can't work anymore because of his back....'
'Not a single trace of Uncle....'
'The money and debt just keep piling up....'
'...How is this fair?'
Just when I was on the verge of giving up on the dream entirely, my mother gently took my hand and said:
'Don't abandon your dream because of our circumstances. It's too precious and rare to spend the rest of your life regretting.'
'Mom.......'
The tears wouldn't stop—hearing those words from a mother who'd been working two, three jobs all on her own.
Time flew after the accident.
I graduated high school and—holding on to that one remaining dream of working at an airport—completed the Aviation Services program.
After countless failed interviews, just when I was about to give up and face reality again—
Cheonsu Airlines accepted me.
And then, the day of the flight I'd been dreaming of.
WHOOOOSH—
Right on cue, a departing plane soared over the headquarters, gliding through the air.
Cutting through the sky on a brilliant summer day.
My chest trembled with anticipation.
Out of nowhere, I even thought that if it meant doing this work, I'd gladly process ghost stories every single day.
"...I'm incredibly happy."
I couldn't stop the smile from breaking through.
Because I was just too happy.
"Oh."
The First Officer laughed his familiar laugh and said let's make it a great one.
"Must be an amazing moment! Have a safe flight—and don't forget to take your shoes off when you board."
"I'll keep that in mind."
Naviq gave a satisfied smile. From his jumpsuit pocket, he produced a yellow lemon candy—just like the first time we'd met.
I went to a computer, entered the flight information, and printed it out for the briefing.
The screen was still unfamiliar, and a passing senior helped me finish the printout.
Soon it was briefing time. Kang Naju and the full crew for the Osaka flight gathered.
Normally we'd have done this at the airport, but since we'd just handled an emergency ghost story, today's briefing was held at headquarters.
"Since this is the first OJT flight for both Cheongho and Somi, please do your best to provide excellent service to our passengers."
"Yes, understood."
"Then, Cheongho—please run us through today's service procedures and special notes."
Kang Naju gave a small smile and looked at me expectantly.
Phew—
"Yes. Today is a short-haul Osaka route, so only the first beverage service will be provided. Boarding rate is 98 percent—nearly full. Service will proceed with beverage distribution after takeoff, followed immediately by in-flight sales. And the passenger in seat A7—"
I was a bit nervous, but I reported the prepared information calmly.
"If there's anything you don't know, don't try to figure it out alone—always ask a senior. Let's make this meaningful first flight a safe one."
"Understood."
Everyone grabbed their bags, boarded the bus again, and transferred to the airport.
I collected the petty cash for duty-free sales and moved through the crew-only corridor for processing.
On the way, I felt the stares of small children. The sight of cabin crew moving in formation must have been fascinating to them.
[Gate 3]
'Gate 3....'
Crossing the jet bridge, I boarded the aircraft before the passengers.