Station Hotel Check-In
I followed the blue line as indicated by the Station Hotel guide. Passing by ads and what I assumed were graduation projects—sculptures or mechanical devices—a wide staircase leading downward came into view. In front of it stretched a broad road, and the intriguing part was the canal running right down the middle, with water flowing through it. If I let my gaze travel up along that canal, the road narrowed gradually, slipping between mountain gorges in soft, curving gray tones—not jagged rock, but geometric lines forming a doorway that looked like a work of art. Flanking the road were buildings resembling factories, alongside tall structures rising haphazardly. Every one was labeled with some corporation or research institute, giving hints as to their purpose. In short, probably something like an industry-academia collaboration center.
I turned my eyes away. Phaenax was standing stock-still, her eyes drinking in the scenery ahead of the school. Of course, it wasn't just Phaenax—exclamations of awe were bursting out all around us. The funny thing was how kids and parents marveled at different moments. The kids were oohing over the school visible in the distance, while the adults were stunned by the company names crammed around the entrance.
I shifted my gaze to where the blue line was pointing. It led to a massive building not far from the train station, entering a structure with a design similar to the school’s main gate. The words Station Hotel gleamed large and bright. There’s the hotel. I waved a hand in front of Phaenax. Confirming her lime-green eyes turn toward me, I pointed at the hotel with my finger.
“Not all that impressed, huh?”
“Isn’t standing there frozen proof enough of your awe?”
Well, I’d stopped too, so maybe that counted as being impressed. But saying it like that makes me sound like some emotionless zombie! Not that I had the energy to argue.
“Figure there’ll be food at the hotel.”
At my response, Phaenax glanced at the hotel once, then back at the school gate. This time, she started walking straight toward the hotel without looking at me.
“Let’s go.”
“Can’t fight hunger, I get it.”
I teased the Phaenax following the light, but she didn’t spare me a glance, just kept pace with the guide line. Under the night sky, the blue glowing line led the way for people. I followed suit, stepping along it. A few minutes later, we arrived at the Station Hotel.
Unlike the clean, pristine image hotels usually conjure, this place was pretty bustling and chaotic. Stepping inside, there was no standard check-in lobby—instead, it felt like we’d walked right into Pristine Comprehensive University. Scattered around the lobby were various photos, and unlike the bulky mana engineering machines studded with protruding mana stones, there were sleek, streamlined devices. School uniforms were on display in one corner too. And noticeably more people were milling about inside the hotel than those who’d arrived ahead of us.
Huh? Isn’t it a bit crowded? Nah, makes sense—not everyone entering school rode my train.
Thinking that, I headed inside, but the blue light didn’t point to the front desk. Instead, it veered sharply left. Over there, a holographic sign reading “Reception Counseling” floated, and I spotted several teens looking worn out, seated at tables handling pads and stacks of paper.
“Those of you who just arrived, check in over here!”
A girl there spotted us, jumped up, and shouted as she approached. New arrivals followed her call toward that area. Guess that’s where we go? Just then, a fluffy green furball zipped past my eyes.
Phaenax?
Before I could even process, she’d finished whatever and was marching ahead along the line without hesitation. Alright, if she’s doing it, so will I. Honestly, with lingering motion sickness making my body feel heavy, I ditched deep thoughts and trailed after Phaenax.
“Here alone? Got your acceptance letter? No? Then tell me your name?”
Phaenax, ahead of me, had already started her consultation. From behind, I saw she didn’t have her acceptance letter, but it didn’t seem like a big deal. She gave her name, and the girl—probably a senior student—quickly found it on her pad and proceeded. Moments later, she pulled out a card key and handed it to Phaenax. The girl stepped aside, and it was my turn.
“You alone too? Yeah, got your acceptance letter—makes it easier. One sec.”
I’d pulled mine out in advance when she mentioned it and showed it. She placed a paper down, scanned the letter with her pad—beep—and without further procedure, handed me an identical card key.
“Here, everything you need is on the card key—follow that.”
I took the card key, but it felt oddly heavy, so I examined it closely. Whoa. I’d expected a basic magnetic card, but this thing had a screen inside. Big, clear buttons for “Meal,” “Lodging,” “Counselor Call,” and such. Less a key, more a low-end terminal. With tech like this, how the hell did I only get internet access today? Felt unfair, honestly. Grumbling inwardly, I tapped Lodging. Blue numbers and symbols lit up immediately. Guess I head there. Looking up, there was just a long line of people waiting. Glancing around, no sign of the green furball. Probably went in during her consult. Not as buddy-buddy as I thought? Whatever. Come to think of it, I might’ve said something off-putting earlier, but oh well. Too tired for my brain to process anyway—drop bags at the room, eat, then think. I hurried toward lodging.
The layout and room numbering weren’t much different from my past life, so I found it quick. In the hallway with occasional kids passing, I tapped the card key to the door.
Beep. Click.
“The last one’s here!”
An energetic voice greeted me the second the door opened. What? Wrong room? I turned back, checked the number—it matched the card key. Duh, it opened with the key, so it’s right. Puzzled, I stepped in. Four boys around my age and six spacious beds filled the room.
“Hyung! That’s the last one?”
The first voice I’d heard called out to someone called “hyung” from a spot I couldn’t see.
“I said call me sunbae……”
A tired, much deeper voice replied, followed by heavy footsteps. An adult? As I entered fully, a hefty teen appeared from a blind spot where he’d been sitting. He looked chubby overall, but not obese—more like naturally big-built. His hefty frame actually gave off a gentle bear vibe. The exhaustion under his eyes made him look like a panda too. And yeah, he had ears on top of his head. Not small round bear ones, but dog-like, same as Uncle Dobell.
“Hey. You’re Abelian Anion, right? I’m your sunbae, Carlo. Uh, so anyway. Wanna wash up first? Bathroom’s got everything—shower and come out. Hygiene’s key.”
His awkward, inexperienced-with-people tone made me nod agreeably. He’d been called sunbae earlier, and helpers at Station Hotel seemed to be current students. Probably signed up for some benefit. Leaving two pairs of curious eyes behind, I headed to the bathroom.
Under the warm water, I replayed the scene. One kid was lying on a bed, another sitting in the corner reading. The most energetic one and the only glasses-wearer had approached me. All boys? And their clothes varied wildly—one in such an exotic style, you’d swear he was from another country. But this continent had only this nation, so probably not. Different outfits. And a senior in a six-person room. Yeah, obvious—they assign escorts for solo kids. Not quite adults, but sunbaes or “hyung” figures hold more sway over kids than grown-ups. Plus, getting into a school like this means they’re smart enough. Technically, this was a hotel, not dorms, but super lax. Probably ’cause Station Hotel belongs to Pristine Comprehensive University.
That’s as far as I got before my stomach growled. Focusing on washing, I finished up. Coming out, I complained about being hungry since I hadn’t eaten—Carlo-sunbae panicked, urgently directing me to the cafeteria while shoving me out. As kids behind grumbled I was rushing too much, a low voice I hadn’t heard before shot back that they’d eaten, so no complaints. With that snarky parting shot, I left the assigned hotel room.
First, I pulled out my pad. The shiny new one booted up, and I fired up the web—gotta get used to calling it that here. Curious, I searched: “internet” existed as “inter-network,” but wasn’t the common term. Satisfied with that trivial fix, I looked up Station Hotel on the map.
Go straight.
Nah, way better than expected. Like some game, it scanned ahead and overlaid a green AR line visible only on the pad screen. Following it, I reached the cafeteria without a hitch.
True to hotel form, it was a buffet. Worlds apart, yet some things stay the same. Slight difference though—due to picky racial diets, some sections warned off certain races. Like allergy restrictions, basically. I loaded up mostly on meat that looked tasty and plopped at a random seat.
This dark red-sauced stir-fry reminded me of past-life spicy pork, so I grabbed it—what the hell’s this flavor? I ate with chopsticks.
Kieeeek!
No, it tasted good. Definitely “tasty” territory, but not the spicy kick I wanted—instead, sour-seasoned, hitting me with a total curveball. Red doesn’t always mean spicy? Brutal…… Not enough greens to cleanse the palate. Sighing, I stood.
“There you are.”
A long green-haired girl in hotel clothes spotted me. I glanced back instinctively—no one there.
“What? I’ll sit there.”
She asked puzzled, but stripping away the looks, that voice sounded familiar.
“Grabbing salad…… Phaenax?”
“Why stare like I’m a stranger?”
So, yeah, her. Guess washing up turned the wild bush-headed furball into this. Ah, right—rooms by arrival order? Nah, different genders, separate rooms. Makes sense.
“Evolved from caveman to modern human, huh.”
“Pulling out the beatdown lines already.”
She said that but sat opposite my plate without a care. Leaving her, I hit the salad corner, grabbed only familiar greens, and returned.
“How’s it feel mastering civilization’s shower pinnacle?”
“Wish I could’ve bathed.”
“Shocking truth—you’re from the civilized world.”
Thwack. A foot flew under the table. Hurt like hell; had to shut up. This girl packs a kick……
And so, I had dinner with my travel buddy.