"What ghost story?"
The rough-skinned man gripped the steering wheel with one hand and yawned.
The young man in the passenger seat retracted his legs from the central console and whispered:
"It's said that West Mountain used to be an ancient battlefield, heavy with yin energy, where many died. Over time, mountain spirits and wild creatures emerged, and evil ghosts that eat people."
"In the early years, before the guardrails were installed on this mountain road, night-shift drivers often met with accidents, and cars overturned into the mountain ditch every few days."
"Veteran drivers say some dirty things like to pose as tourists, waving to cars in the middle of the night. If anyone kindly stops, those dirty things sneak into the back seat..."
"And what if I don't stop?"
The rough-skinned man grinned and asked.
"That's even scarier!"
The young man in the passenger seat swallowed, speaking louder:
