Episode 5. Welcome to the Ghost Story Hotel

When the body relaxes, the mind loosens. And when my mind loosens, I start pulling out things from deep inside that I wouldn't normally think of because I lack the leisure for it.

When I was even younger, I'd dredge up memories from Earth and get lost in nostalgia. But I'm not sharp enough to vividly remember events from over twenty years ago, so those Earth memories have now fuzzily blurred together.

I did manage to jot down all the novel's settings and plot points in Korean on a notepad before I forgot them—things I absolutely had to remember. But even Korean has grown hazy now, on par with those faded memories. I'm starting to find it hard to read the very notes I wrote myself.

Thanks to efforts since childhood, I can speak the languages of various nations and races, yet Korean is fading. If someone told me to speak it now, nothing but clumsy, awkward sounds would come out of my mouth.

"…."

I can no longer clearly recall my previous parents' faces. It's been too long since I last saw them; only vague shapes ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠remain, no distinct features.

At least their precious names come to mind after a bit of pondering. Park Bok-ja. Kim Chun-sik. Those two rustic names pop out from a corner of my mind.

So maybe unconsciously, that's why I hum songs from Earth or spout phrases popular there. Perhaps it's my way of dragging them out without wanting to forget them completely.

Those hazy memories still sneak in whenever my body relaxes and my mind loosens.

Of course, memories of the empire—now swelling even larger as if it's only natural—flood in first. And the heaps of experiences piled up since childhood pop out ahead of them.

As time passes, it's not my Earth self that's deepening, but the me living as Ain.

Anyway, all these things worm their way in through the cracks ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠when my mind loosens, always working to turn me into this frail person.

Which means it's time for my body to start feeling uncomfortable again. I'm the type who can only steel my mind and push forward when my body's aching.

Time passed, and we faced the empty hotel with only golems left besides us. In truth, we'd been the only ones inside for days already, but I figured there was no need to break the rules early.

It would only inconvenience us. So we obediently followed the rules until checkout eve, resting normally, and only on the awaited day did we grin.

"The long ordeal of mockery and persecution… finally at an end."

Nearly two weeks plus an extra week extension—rest was starting to feel tedious.

"What're you on about? We just lounged around."

"Tch, shut it."

I clicked my tongue at Horn's nitpicking and continued what I wanted to say.

"Ahh, this cool, heavy sensation. Three weeks at last."

I drew my sword with a shing.

"Why's Ain hyung acting up again, Tori?"

"Dunno. He does this sometimes. Just let him be, Yaki."

"Oh, that's just how he is!"

Ah, seriously. Why are there so many nitpickers today?

Anyway, I stood at the entrance with sword in hand. An hour till breakfast, but finishing today's tasks would be tight.

I glanced back at my comrades waiting behind me.

"Everyone, stay inside Asha's barrier and advance slowly."

"Got it, sprout."

"Haha… d-don't worry."

"""Yeees~"""

First rule to break: Number 4. Don't leave your room after midnight until breakfast. If someone knocks, never open or go out.

Every morning, knocks came. Today, something unknown would knock too.

Knock knock—the moment it did, fling the door open and stab with my sword.

"Die!"

This was payback for the past three weeks of annoying knocks.

My sword pierced the shadowy figure at the door with a squelch.

Unlike the eerie woman from the right room, my swing connected. Kieek—kieeek.

It didn't die from one stab, but my mana-less sword worked—that mattered.

Ash powder coated my blade, pinning the rippling form that should've passed through.

"Horn, hammer time!"

"Aye! Die, ya monster!"

This was ash powder enchantment, you monster bastard.

Me and Horn, useless without mana, got hyped that our attacks landed and gleefully pounded the thing.

The reaper-like monster lost its huge scythe, got riddled with holes from my sword, head flattened by Horn's hammer, and died.

"We'll keep the scythe. Sell it at the workshop for some coin."

"Good idea. On to the next."

Scanning the hall, three reapers on our floor. One down, the other two charged seeing their dead pal.

Claaang—but their scythes never reached us.

We could charge because of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Asha's barrier.

Sadly, checking lower floors, only those three reapers total. Maybe they clocked out with no guests. Our scythe-profit plan flopped.

Anyway, rule ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠4 broken. Next: Rule 2, dining times.

We headed to the restaurant leisurely for breakfast. Eileen and the twins piling five plates each like last supper was absurd but kinda cute, grinning happily at the feast.

We ate till past mealtime, and the awaited anomaly began subtly.

Would the chef swing knives, or another cliché monster? Wriggle.

"Eh."

Sadly, our food turned freaky. It writhed like living things; eyeballs blinked from sauces, staring.

"…This is fine cuisine."

Blood oozed from well-cooked meat, pulsing. Seafood the kids forked up spoke grotesquely.

"Asha."

"Yes?"

Others paled, but Asha curiously poked and lifted wriggling bits.

The impaled thing on her fork screamed.

"…Was it never food to begin with?"

"Nah, it was. Probably magical mutation, but new type—no idea how to revert."

Not grossed out, she prodded the screamer.

"Then good… no. Eating it…!"

She sliced and popped a piece in her mouth.

"Mmm, wriggles in the mouth. Tastes same, so close eyes and swallow if gross?"

"…."

Come to think, Asha eats weird stuff fine.

"Wanna try, Ain? Feels fun struggling inside."

"Hell no."

"Won't eat what I offer…?"

"…."

Aaah, mad caterpillar flashbacks. Memories surge of a sly woman with puppy eyes—but only now.

"Urp, ueeek…."

"""Wheeeek… u-ueeek…!"""

Thankfully, her grinning torment ended as everyone around puked.

We roamed breaking rules one by one.

Rule 5: The third staircase's anomaly led endlessly, trapping you to die.

But crack—scraaape, Asha slashed the blocked wall open. Pathetic for the hotel.

Note: Even our full swings did nothing; we'd have died without her.

All original rules broken. We sent others to rooms, then Asha and I trashed the extras: floors 14, 24, 44—slapped monsters; rode "under maintenance" elevator.

No other guests, so any hallway figure got stabbed on sight.

Thus, the hotel became chaos by day's end.

For surprises, we lashed beds, huddled tight in Asha's barrier.

"Tomorrow's checkout brings huge rewards, right?"

"Hmm… could stiff us, call us pests."

I said expectantly; Horn pondered, then replied.

"Pfft, normal mode? We hard-cleared—better rewards obvious."

"First lunatic in my life demanding more for trashing the place."

But… Horn wasn't wrong.

"Ah, um…."

We wrecked the hotel, forced refunds for guests. Thinking post-facto: yeah, lunatics.

"If no reward tomorrow, we rested fine anyway. Sleep, sprout."

"Yeah… true. Goodnight."

I eyed the asleep kids and Aberly, closed eyes. Exhausted from day's frenzy, sleep came quick—but sometime, felt tightly hugged, warm breath on neck.

Tired body didn't stir.

Morning came. We found this.

"…We fucked up?"

That single line screamed fury.

Anyway, we packed, headed to front desk via the "under maintenance" elevator.

The always-crowded lobby empty save golems waiting. Asha and I approached first.

"Ah, yes."

Relief: golem showed no anger.

"Understood."

It mechanically returned my ID, whirr-scanned us slowly like check-in.

Horn muttered softly mid-scan.

"Who politely answers after trashing the joint? What kinda nut?"

"…Shut it."

Even I think I'm nuts, but no need to say it.

Our bickering done, golem hummed.

"Ah, thank you."

Golem continued.

Emotionless golem voice oddly laced with irritation and anger.

"…Pardon?"

"Pardon my ass, idiot. Conscience kicking in?"

No—not wronged, just reflex since I expected reward talk.

Golem paused, chest clank-opened, spat out a tiny golem clone.

"Whoa."

We took it, dazed at golem's final words.

Golem whirr-tilted head in bow.