The World of Earth is a diceless, text-only roleplaying game about the cases nobody else will take — and the people who make the work worth it.

The Veil is real. The dead touch the living only through unfinished business, and every haunting is a human story gone wrong: a family who lost a son, a heart broken past bearing, a betrayal that became a murder. There is always a cause. There is always a choice.

You play one of three teenagers at the Ember Agency — Jude, the ironbound leader; Wren, who hears the last words of the dead; Mina, who chases the static from Seoul's shrine-lines to Lockwood's rain — or Ray, the lone wolf who woke up with no memory. The cases are personal, not world-ending: one person, one family, one ghost with a story. 35+ missions are waiting on the slips at the wall, and every one pays in money you feel in your wallet.

Between the cases, the city is a playground and a grocery list. Take a blind date from Na-ri, a matchmaker who has never once noticed the ghost problem — every date a fresh student she sets you up with. Sing a duet in a Hongdae karaoke room and forget the words at the chorus. Chase a crane-game plushie, argue with a batting machine, get pulled onto a late-night TV show that reviews ghost clips. Work a real shift, earn real won, and spend it — convenience-store dinners, a secondhand leather jacket from the mall, a healing potion from the drawer under Mugwort & Mulberry's register. Hangouts, dates, jobs, and midnight activities are all playable: you pick the lyric, you remember the combo, you choose the risk.

The world spans a rain-worn English city, the neon of Hongdae, and the shrine-quiet of Tokyo — with room to grow. The drama is heavy, the romance is real, and every case asks the same question: what do you owe the dead — and who are you willing to become to settle it?