Chapter 64
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 64
Chapter Title: Collapse (1)
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[15 : 43 : 15]
I descended to the first-floor lobby. As I approached the front desk, a voice called out from behind the partition.
—Welcome. This is the Hollenz Hotel.
I ran my finger across the desk's opaque glass panel with a swipe. It was similar to the material of a vending machine, but with slightly higher mana density.
I summoned Perion into the clamp axe. Just the right strength to shatter this glass panel.
"Hello."
I gripped the axe handle while greeting them.
—Single rooms are 20 coins per day, double rooms 50 coins per day, and suites 200 coins per day.
"I see."
I swung the axe as is.
——!
The first blow landed with a dull thud. The glass didn't shatter; it just dented inward.
I smashed it again.
Bang——!
Part of the panel cracked open. I wedged the axe into the fissure.
Crunch——!
I wrenched it around and yanked the entire glass panel free.
—Single rooms 20 coins, double rooms 50 coins.
Inside the desk was a doll with only an upper body. I slammed the axe into the top of its head.
Crack—!
Gears and mechanical parts burst out from its split skull like brains.
I hopped over the desk. I smashed the leader device, intercom, surveillance cameras—everything into pieces. I rampaged like a thug.
"—What are you doing."
A voice clearly aimed at me interrupted my stress-relieving spree.
"What kind of bastard pulls such vermin shit."
It was Soliet.
She glanced at the hand axe in my grip and let out a hollow laugh. Then she gathered mana in her palm and fired it off.
——!
A fireball the size of a baseball flew in and knocked off my gas mask. My bare face was exposed in an instant.
Soliet's eyes widened slightly.
"It was you?"
"...Yeah."
I scratched my head. She shot back with a mix of contempt and bewilderment.
"You just need to hold out for 15 hours. What the hell are you doing."
"It's not about holding out—it's about surviving longer. It's relative ranking anyway, right? Plus, this whole hotel rubs me the wrong way."
Her face twisted in confusion, like she couldn't comprehend. She was on the verge of calling me an idiot.
"...Wait. The whole hotel rubs you the wrong way?"
Then, as if realizing something, she looked at me seriously.
"You. Do you know something about this hotel?"
Soliet seemed to know something herself from the way she asked.
"Shh."
I stepped out from the desk and approached her.
This much conversation wouldn't give anything away, but I couldn't risk it. They still held the right to forced repatriation, after all.
Soliet whispered back quietly.
...My family invested in a hotel like this once. I visited as a kid. This place feels just like it.
It was a pretty surprising coincidence for me. But fortunate, too.
Good thing—it was getting tough handling it alone.
...Cadillac Casino Hotel. Right?
...!
Soliet's face screamed "how did you know." Her eyes sparkled like lightbulbs.
...You know it. But that hotel had an unfortunate—
"I know."
I brought my lips close to her ear. Our breaths nearly mingled, but Soliet stood still. Utter indifference.
...Listen up.
I explained everything to her—my thoughts, my plan.
About this artificial mana space and the true nature of the 'mana core' sustaining it.
About smashing it to free the ghosts.
Her expression grew more serious as I spoke.
"...That's the gist."
I stepped back a couple paces and asked.
"What do you think?"
"..."
She grabbed her neck and shoulders, stretching. True to form—actions before words.
"I'll cooperate."
"Put on a gas mask first."
During curfew, the gas descends. It makes everything outside normal cognition look like monsters.
In simple terms: fine if you're together when exposed, but apart, you see each other as monsters.
I smashed a nearby vending machine and handed her a gas mask. She pulled it on and said,
"Tenth and twentieth floors have desks too."
"Guess we have to smash those."
Whoosh—I tucked the hand axe into my belt.
Meanwhile, Kielle—one of Endex's rising stars—is resting in room [1005]. He's caught a decent number of monsters, gathered clues, and has some spare coin in his wallet.
"Whoa~ So you're heading back to the kingdom right after graduation, Kielle?"
"Something like that."
He's already hooked one. A third-year mana academy princess named 'Celli'.
Shame about the assignment—they've got a room but can't fool around. Here, just swap numbers and hook up later. Perfect for a few casual meets before dumping.
"Though I might stick around Edsilah. My homeland keeps pushing me into the Edsilah Council Knight Order."
"Whoa~ Council Knights are the pinnacle of knight careers!"
Kielle was mid self-promo, Celli falling hard, the mood all warm and fuzzy.
"Pinnacle? Nah, I aim higher—"
Thud——!
"Higher—"
Thud——!
"What the fuck is that noise."
Kielle deliberately showed his right profile, scowling.
Thud——!
Celli crossed her arms.
"...Yeah. Who's making that racket."
Thud——!
"Hold on."
Kielle got up from the bed.
A bit scary, sure, but curfew wasn't on yet. Even if a monster popped out, he was confident he'd win.
As long as it wasn't that bare-handed monster-basher.
"Be right back."
"Eh? Just stay here..."
Celli timidly grabbed his hem. A gesture to stir protective instincts. Kielle flashed an actor-level smile and murmured low.
"Wait here. I'll check who this rude bastard is."
Slam—!
He flung the door open. Some guy was at the tenth-floor desk.
"Hey, buddy! What're you—"
Kielle instinctively cut off. The guy's outfit was off. Windbreaker, gas mask, hood, hand axe...
"...What the fuck?"
As he muttered,
The guy swung his axe at the desk.
Crunch——!
The glass shattered to bits. Kielle's shoulder twitched. The guy even buried his axe in the desk staff's head.
Splorch——!
The vivid sound of flesh and bone splitting rang out.
"..."
Kielle gaped blankly. At the same moment, the guy's head tilted slightly. The face under the gas mask looked his way.
Short blond hair. Sharply carved eyes.
Just that much visible, but Kielle knew who it was. Etched too clearly—the nightmare from Fog Mountain.
Sion Askal.
Thud!
Kielle slammed the door shut.
"We're fucked."
He muttered, scanning the room.
"Why?"
Celli tilted her head from the bed.
"Someone outside?"
"...Huh? Oh~ No biggie. Just... some noise from downstairs~?"
He bullshitted while checking the window. See if it opened. Might need to jump.
That's when it happened.
Crunch——!
An axe embedded in the room door.
"Kyaaaaah!"
Celli screamed. The axe had cleaved the door in half, and the gas-masked freak appeared beyond.
"Ki, Kielle! Save me!"
"Yeah, hold on!"
Celli reached out desperately. Kielle desperately—no, frantically—yanked the window up. It opened, thankfully.
"Kielleeee!"
"Three minutes!"
He'd fight normally, but that guy's out of spec. A lunatic who bashes monsters bare-handed.
"Back soon!"
Kielle leaped out the window. He wove mana threads into a parachute mid-fall, but...
"What the—! Cold, fuck, why's it so cold!"
Cold! Cold! Fuck, cold! Cold!
Chanting cold nonstop, he hit the watch's forfeit button.
——Monitoring Room.
"...What the hell is that lunatic doing now?"
Shelton was slightly flustered by the rampaging variable.
Smashing vending machines? Fine. But the lobby front desk and the tenth-floor desk?
"Psych prediction model's accuracy is low, but low-prob options were there. 0.3% chance. Not teaming up, not hiding for self-preservation—mutual destruction including himself—"
"No, why smash the desks?"
"Orders to leave all variables open and cut costs."
"Fuck... Costs gotta be cut."
Shelton clicked his tongue.
"Whatever. Let him be. We lobbied College Board to test extreme variables like this."
Today called for some leeway. Over-regulate seniors and risk an audit from the university association? Pointless trouble.
"It's~ just quick cash anyway."
The mana cores under experiment here had endless potential.
The souls trapped inside were mere ghosts now, but train them, implant accident circuits, and they'd evolve into near-perfect AIs.
Shelton and the Magic Tower's endgame: theme parks run on them.
Success meant replacing character dolls, shop staff, guides, experiential mana space NPCs, metaverse NPCs—all with soul AIs. Free labor, no costs.
In this era of skyrocketing wages, thousands of workers for free, nonstop, for 200 years? Imagine.
Anyone quibbling morals or ethics over that economic value? Morons. What rights do the obsolete have?
"Yes. But there's a 0.0001095% chance of the worst outcome—"
"Jeez, man."
Shelton clapped the mid-manager's shoulder.
"Overthink low probs and you'll never make money. It's all money~"
This psycho senior wreaks havoc, yet systems hold? College Board ends smooth?
Might owe him thanks.
That data shaves 2-3 years off commercialization.
"Success ain't perfect from the start. How you handle variables—that's what turns profit or debt."
Shelton muttered leisurely, sinking into the massage chair.
"Just keep monitoring."