Someone's Story
The old hotel rulebook used to put it like this:
Rule 14. There is no fourteenth floor in Hotel Snark. (May vary according to guest rank.)
Officially, Hotel Snark has no fourteenth floor. Yet the man standing before him had just claimed he lived in room 1408.
“Well, well. Look who it is. If it isn’t the guy with the rotting face!”
“……”
The Faceless Man. Oberon greeted him as though none of this was surprising.
“You said it was a request.”
“Yeah.”
“That request wouldn’t happen to be…”
“Whatever you’re imagining, you’re right. The City Council was on their knees, banging their heads against the floor, begging me to nail your head back on.”
The Faceless Man gave a light shrug.
“Honestly, even they must have had a moment of ‘oh shit.’”
“‘Oh shit’?”
“They probably never expected to get tangled this deep with the Great King.”
“……”
Solomon said nothing. He simply stared at the corpses strewn across the ground. Maggots that had already hatched were wriggling in thick clusters.
While they had died unable to fend for themselves, Solomon had survived. At least for the time being.
“Well, either way…”
That was when it happened.
“Ah, fuck.”
The Faceless Man’s expression froze.
“!”
A twitch.
The moment he thought it had stiffened, the skin on the man’s face began to crawl, as if something living was squirming beneath it.
Buzzzzzz!
A swarm of flies that had no right to be there came pouring from his mouth. They tore, pried, and burst through his throat, eyes, nose, and ears.
The Faceless Man’s “face” was ripped clean off by the legion of flies surging from inside his body.
What remained in its place was…
“The Great King always did have one hell of a memory for grudges, past or present.”
“!”
There was nothing.
Where a human face should have been, there was simply nothing. It wasn’t that he lacked a neck. An eggshell-like border, the “outline” of a face, still existed, but everything that should have filled it was empty.
“That face…”
“Oops. My apologies.”
Even so, the Faceless Man didn’t panic. He simply turned his head lightly.
“Sorry you had to see that.”
“!”
In the brief instant he glanced away and the even briefer instant he turned back, a completely different voice rang out, accompanied by an entirely new face.
The young man’s features he had worn moments ago had been replaced by someone older. It wasn’t hard to guess why people called him the Faceless Man.
“What the hell? A face exhibition? Must be nice having such a thick skin.”
“Can that bastard’s mouth shut up for even one second, Oberon?”
“Regrettable. Even if you tossed my mouth into the sea off Avalon, it would just float right back up.”
“……”
While Solomon was openly stunned, the fairy Oberon remained utterly unfazed. The Faceless Man grumbled as if sick of him. Solomon chose not to press the matter and stayed silent.
He had stabbed a knife into the Great King’s back and still walked away unscathed even after being exposed to that lingering malice. That alone told Solomon roughly how strong the Faceless Man truly was.
And by extension, it showed just how overwhelming Beelzebub’s presence must be if even a powerhouse like this could do nothing more than drive him off.
Solomon silently pulled the Great Explosion Rune Stone from his coat. The one that really ought to be called the Nuclear Explosion Rune Stone by now.
“Hey now, look at this shameless bastard. You’re seriously thinking of setting that thing off here?”
“……”
“Just thinking about it pisses me off again. I distinctly remember saying if we’re going to live, then let’s actually live, yeah?”
“……Even the guy doing the killing has to survive somehow.”
Honestly, even if he had ten mouths, he would have had nothing to say.
The moment the Rune Stone left his hand, Oberon swooped in and snatched it. Solomon didn’t try to stop him. If anything, he was glad to be rid of the troublesome thing.
“So what are you planning to do with it?”
“What do you mean, what? I have to keep my promise to the lady. I’ll handle this guy myself, so make sure you don’t forget your part either.”
“I’ll remember.”
Solomon nodded in agreement.
“It was dirty working with you. See you around. Adios.”
“……”
With that, Oberon flew off alone, the Great Explosion Rune Stone in tow. He scattered fairy light into the distance, his hippie-style long hair and Jesus-like beard flapping behind him.
That left Solomon. Alone with the soul of Dr. O’Neil—his target and retrieval object.
“……”
─ …….
This is awkward.
Being left behind with the man whose end he had personally arranged wasn’t exactly a pleasant situation.
“Let’s head back to the hotel.”
The Faceless Man spoke to the two of them (and the soul) as the air grew thick with discomfort.
“You too, Doctor.”
─ You’re dragging me to the assassins’ hotel?!
“Is there some reason you can’t go?”
─ D-don’t be ridiculous! I…
As Dr. O’Neil protested, the Faceless Man simply shrugged.
“Fine. Keep wandering Ghosttown until the Great King, now properly furious, comes to find you. Do whatever you want. I won’t stop you.”
─ …….
A short silence fell. There was no need to guess what answer would come at the end of it.
Hotel Snark. The legendary assassins’ hotel straddling the boundary between life and death.
In the suffocating poisonous fog that filled Ghosttown, it was virtually the only place where one could remove a gas mask without fear.
“Welcome, Mr. Solomon and…”
─ …It’s Dr. O’Neil.
Dr. O’Neil, who had ultimately died by Solomon’s hand, had become a wandering soul and followed them here.
“Dr. O’Neil.”
The bluish ghost hotelier bowed politely.
“Welcome to Hotel Snark. Are you perhaps a new contractor who accepts requests from mediums? We have prepared customized rooms for guests who are evil spirits or souls.”
─ I, I…
From behind the pair, the Faceless Man added,
“Not right now. There will be time to talk later.”
“Understood.”
“Also, we have something important to discuss. Clear the lounge of the other guests for a while.”
“With all due respect…”
Even though the request to empty the lounge was quite unreasonable, the ghost hotelier asked in a cautious voice,
“Faceless One. May I ask which ‘face’ is currently issuing this order?”
“……”
The face issuing the order. At the cryptic question, the Faceless Man fell silent for a moment. When Solomon turned to look, yet another unfamiliar face had appeared.
This time it was the face of an old man, incomparably older than before. He looked so frail that simply standing on the edge of life seemed precarious.
His skin was covered in wrinkles so dense there was no smooth patch left. What little white hair remained had mostly fallen out.
“This face is the one giving the order.”
The voice was weak, precarious, hoarse, and cracked, as if it carried the full weight of time’s storms. Among all the faces the Faceless Man had shown so far, this one stood out as distinctly alien.
“……Understood, General Manager.”
“!”
At the unexpected title, the ghost in hotel uniform bowed deeply.
Ding. Ding─
Soon the sound of a bell rang out. A low, heavy tone that reached every corner of the lobby. The chime of a grandfather clock.
“Right, let’s go.”
Before they knew it, the Faceless Man’s face and voice had switched back to that of the frivolous young man. The change had been faster than the blink of an eye. In fact, it had literally happened in the space of a blink.
“You too, Mr. Solomon.”
“……Me as well?”
“In this matter, you’re no longer a third party either.”
At those words, Solomon blinked in surprise. Of course the part about Dr. O’Neil’s soul was true. But he understood there was a much deeper meaning behind the Faceless Man’s use of the word “third party.”
“……Understood.”
Solomon silently followed the Faceless Man.
Along the corridor leading to the lounge, numerous hotel guests were already filing out. Not a huge crowd, but not small either. Yet none of them raised any objection. They simply obeyed in silence, as though they were all intimately familiar with the hotel’s rules.
Occasionally someone shot Solomon a suspicious glance, but that was all.
Before long he had passed them and entered the now-empty tea lounge. The Faceless Man, who had arrived first, sat down at the large table in the center.
His bold, unhesitating movements and the cunning old man’s face he had briefly revealed told Solomon more than enough about the person before him.
“Dr. O’Neil.”
The Faceless Man immediately spoke the doctor’s name. The lost soul who, despite the successful request, had ended up drifting all the way to the assassins’ hotel.
The corpse collector, Dr. O’Neil.
The soul of the man Solomon had killed no longer wore the grotesque form he had possessed in life. He wasn’t especially handsome, but he wasn’t ugly either.
“As you know, thanks to the good doctor, quite a lot of ‘noisy’ incidents have been occurring throughout the city lately. To be more precise…”
─ I, I—!
“Listen to what I have to say first.”
The moment Dr. O’Neil’s soul tried to shout in protest—
Crack!
At some point the Faceless Man had seized him by the throat. Or more accurately, Dr. O’Neil’s soul had been yanked into his grip as if pulled by a magnet.
Like telekinesis, or like being sucked into the gravity of a black hole.
─ Kugh, hack…!
Even though he was a soul, Dr. O’Neil thrashed as if he couldn’t breathe, writhing in agony.
The Faceless Man continued with an expression colder and more emotionless than ever.
─ Kehuk, urgh…!
“Let me finish the story.”
“……”
Not to the desperately flailing Dr. O’Neil, but to Solomon.
“Once upon a time, there was an organization known as the Wardens.”
Clue Acquired!
*Wardens*
The organization was founded with the ridiculously grand purpose of protecting the order of the world.”
It was a rather grandiose beginning. The story clearly wasn’t going to be short.
“Ah, I can already see you getting bored. Well, who wants to sit through verse one and two of some useless ancient tale? Fine. I’ll skip to the conclusion.”
It wasn’t.
“The Wardens eventually went completely bankrupt. The end.”
“……”
“What, is that surprising? Grandly established justice usually meets that fate in front of villains. And after that devastating fall, as you can see… it became ‘this.’”
The Faceless Man spoke the exact words Solomon had been thinking, as if he had read his mind.
─ Kugh, ugh…! L-let go…!
All the while, he continued to casually grip the throat of Dr. O’Neil, who was still struggling in pain.
As you can see, this. Even an idiot could understand what that meant.
“You’re talking about your own organization… Hotel Snark.”
Target identified as remnant of the Wardens
“You catch on quick. That’s nice.”
“What exactly are you trying to tell me?”
“We no longer move for any grand cause like protecting the world’s order. Not the Wardens… not me, not the Hotel.”
The Faceless Man continued.
“We finished with all that a long damn time ago. We do it for money now. Ah, I really love money.”
“……”
He was right. The hotel’s nickname and Solomon’s own profession as one of its guests were proof enough.
The Hotel of Assassins.
“That doesn’t mean we’ve forgotten what ‘they’ did to us.”
Swoosh!
At the same time as his words, something unfolded. Solomon inhaled sharply in shock. No matter how hard he tried to stay calm, he couldn’t.
“!”
Eight wings were there.
They were horribly torn and twisted, bloody with exposed bone, yet they still scattered feathers of pure, snow-white brilliance.
“In the end, that’s all we have left.”
Spreading his grotesquely mangled angel wings, the Faceless Man said,
“Hatred and revenge.”
Hatred and revenge. The endless vortex of those emotions had only one target.
The conversation he had casually shared with Beelzebub came to mind.
The Black Museum. A criminal syndicate that collected and preserved evil in this city. After hearing the explanation, Solomon had asked,
「Just out of curiosity, isn’t there an organization of kind-hearted angels who gather together to fight for world peace?」
「There was.」
There was. Past tense. And the subject of that past tense was not far away at all. He was right in front of him.
The grandly established justice that inevitably met its end before villains.
Only now did Solomon realize. None of this, from beginning to end, was someone else’s story.
Not in this TRPG world where angels and demons, ghosts and fairies, and every myth and legend breathed and lived.