Chapter 15
The staff made no sound.
No voices, no footsteps, no breathing, not even the rustle of clothing.
It was an almost unnatural silence. Director Lee Sun-hae had never seen them open their mouths.
“They act as if they simply don’t have that function,” she muttered.
“….”
“Would it be insane to ask them to speak just once?”
“…Yes.”
They came to the same conclusion internally.
“….”
“….”
Their tongues,
might not even exist.
“…Among the staff of this hotel, the only person who speaks and moves freely is the general manager.”
There were countless employees, but the only one who could speak a language aloud was that man. He was also the only one to display emotion outwardly.
Even that, however, operated within strict limits. The general manager did not allow unnecessary chatter when dealing with guests. It was a calculated silence.
“That’s… unusual.”
Very unusual.
Hong Kyung-yeon agreed.
“Until that person gives an order, the staff doesn’t even move.”
“Isn’t that strange? They could just speak, but the staff only reacts when a bell is rung. Like Pavlov’s dogs—why is the bell necessary? Is this part of service etiquette?”
“….”
“Or maybe some kind of brainwashing training… hmm. Right.”
“….”
“Relax,” the director said, noticing the writer scanning the area nervously.
“There shouldn’t be cameras, right? Or listening devices?”
“…Can you be certain?”
“I don’t know the exact purpose of this hotel, but ultimately, it’s for the country’s elite. Access is highly restricted.”
“So you think it’s safe because high-status people use it?”
“It wouldn’t exist otherwise. Though honestly, I can’t be entirely sure…”
The hotel’s purpose was the key. To form a hypothesis, they needed clues—but there were none.
“Should I try writing a novel?”
“…What?”
“This place is a playground for lunatics.”
“You’re being cautious, not calling them murderers or criminals.”
“Exactly. People here casually tear others’ bodies to shreds.”
“And?”
“This hotel manages those people while treating them as guests.”
Why did that sound convincing? Hong Kyung-yeon frowned.
“So why haven’t they stopped us?”
“Maybe the guests like seeing a new victim?”
“Yet we weren’t harmed.”
“We’ve never actually encountered anyone directly.”
“At least they’re not hunting outsiders, then.”
“But it could be dangerous if we meet them, like what happened to the general manager.”
“So that’s why you called them crazy.”
“Yeah… so basically, what I’m trying to say is…”
“…I get the gist.”
The writer sighed, covering their mouth.
“So this could be a mental hospital for the elite.”
The director scratched her head.
“Whether it functions as a hospital, I’m not sure.”
“But right now, it’s clearly a den for dangerous lunatics.”
“Just a novel idea,” he said.
“Sometimes reality surpasses fiction,” she added.
When Lee Sun-hae was a documentary director, following her on assignments, she had learned this: the world is chaotic and absurd.
In countless ways.
“Then what about the staff?”
“I don’t know all the details, but I know they’re optimized for this hotel.”
“Trained to fit the hotel’s needs? Even the owner?”
“Remember what he said the first day?”
“That he was just asked to operate the place.”
“Yes, good memory.”
“Asked…”
Was it really a request?
“….”
Not an order or threat disguised as a request?
“….”
Why was even the owner so accustomed to pain?
“….”
Is he really… an adult?
“…So what will you do now?”
“I think we’ve got the next project topic. Need to do some research.”
“Let’s do it together. Sounds fun.”
“Not that we’re making a movie about this place. That’s an excuse. We’re not capable of saving someone’s life, but we can expose some of the injustice he’s suffered.”
Sometimes luck brought unexpected discoveries.
Just passing it by felt… wrong.
“…I’m genuinely curious what this place is.”
The director put her phone down.
“They’re going to sleep soon.”
“Oh, you contacted them? What did they say?”
“If you feel like dying, open a window and jump.”
“Yeah, like that’s gonna work from the 21st floor.”
“Anyway, everything we’ve written so far is fiction. I want at least some real information. Let’s start by observing the guests.”
“That sounds risky. Remember what the general manager said about the 7th floor?”
“Everything else should be fine, right? We’ve seen other guests in the lobby sometimes. He didn’t say to avoid them. Not all guests here are necessarily dangerous.”
“The phrase ‘might not be’ is scary,” said the writer.
“If it’s difficult, we’ll need more conversation with the general manager.”
“Now you’re admitting the gloves had blood on them? Anyway, he’s the one who talks to us most here.”
“That’s true, but…”
The staff followed the general manager’s commands without question, rarely interacting with others. Only a few guests seemed capable of any social exchange.
Surprisingly, the general manager was talkative by comparison.
‘Though that doesn’t mean he’s particularly chatty.’
He would never discuss personal matters.
“…We still have some time.”
“Right, our stay is only one week anyway.”
“So, for now.”
Some matters simply couldn’t be ignored.
The next morning, they met a familiar face in the lobby.
“Ah.”
Naturally, it was the general manager.
“Good morning,” they greeted.
“Good morning. You’re up early again today,” he replied politely.
“Later than yesterday, though?”
“You seem more relaxed than yesterday. Proper rest is essential for a guest’s well-being.”
“I don’t know if I should say this…” The director hesitated.
“You don’t seem to have had enough rest.”
He smiled as usual, but it was mechanical. Fatigue touched only the corners of his mouth, the pale face making him appear composed.
‘Tired, yet perfectly orderly.’
Pathological perfection and emotionless self-management. Nearly inhuman.
He replied promptly.
“My fault. If I gave a guest an uncomfortable impression, I apologize.”
“Fault? You’re overthinking. Look at that handsome face…”
“You flatter me.”
He adjusted his glasses.
“Thank you for your concern. Your thoughtfulness confirms you are indeed kind people.”
He briefly fell silent, staring at the main entrance.
“…Here…”
Then, something changed.
The warmth of his smile froze for an instant. The corners of his mouth curved as before, but the jaw and neck muscles tensed subtly—Lee Sun-hae noticed.
It wasn’t a voluntary closure; it felt forced.
“….”
“….”
Who?
How? Why?
“…Will you be exploring the surroundings today as well?”
After the heavy silence, the general manager spoke on a completely different topic.
“The mountain our hotel occupies tends to have rough weather, so I worry. Especially on days with heavy rain like today, please take care. This area is particularly rugged, isn’t it?”
Polite, but incongruous. The sentence cut off moments earlier lingered oddly in the air.
“…Um,” Director Lee awkwardly shrugged.
“Thank you for your concern.”
“Of course. My duty is to ensure guests remain safe.”
“Then may I make a request?”
“Please, speak freely.”
“After returning, could we have a word?”
“Yes.”
“I just realized I don’t even know your name.”
The general manager’s pupils trembled ever so slightly.
“….”
The reply came without delay.
“Lee Yeon-woo.”
“…Yeon-woo?”
“…Yes.”
A single phrase, yet his voice carried faint fatigue and hesitation. As if dredging up a memory long buried, barely surfacing.
‘Why?’
The strange reaction lasted only an instant.
“Oh.”
“…? What is it?”
“Sorry to interrupt your words.”
“Did something happen?”
“I must leave briefly for a somewhat urgent summons…”
“Summons?”
Someone had called him. The director smiled faintly.
“No, we’ve kept you too long. We apologize.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Politeness demands gratitude.”
“Is that so? Very well then.”
“Yes, we shall meet again later.”
“I expect to return before seven.”
“I see…”
Lee Yeon-woo bowed lightly.
“Please have a comfortable and meaningful time.”
He headed straight to the elevator.
Silent, almost weightless. His precise, mechanical stride made him feel unreal, as if not a living being.
Simply put, his presence was muted.
‘To suppress such presence… what must one do?’
Lee Sun-hae’s gaze lingered on the elevator floor indicator where he vanished. The blinking number stopped at…
“…7th floor.”
The feeling was… unsettling.