Chapter 21
Lee Seonhae sometimes teased Hong Gyeongyeon for being a coward.
There was no grand reason. She would tremble and tremble, and then when she could no longer contain herself, she would explode—exactly like a small dog. Lee Seonhae found it regrettable.
‘At least small dogs are cute.’
And Hong Gyeongyeon was not cute. The chances of anyone going easy on her were slim. She must have known that herself, yet she never fixed it. If that wasn’t cowardice, then what was?
“……”
“……”
“……”
And then came the long-awaited three-way confrontation.
Director Lee Seonhae called out to Hong Gyeongyeon.
“Writer Hong.”
“When did you—… sorry. Should I shut up?”
“Let me think about that for a second.”
The problem was that Hong Gyeongyeon usually endured. She was a bomb that rarely went off.
‘She tries, in her own way, to stay rational. As long as neither her life nor someone else’s is simultaneously threatened. Objectively, that’s not exactly rational either, but still….’
Director Lee looked at the one they were facing off against. A massive build. A menacing knife. Clothes dripping with water. And the open door of Room 703.
Hmm.
“……”
“Should I shut up?”
“…Y-yeah, please.”
“……”
“Good girl.”
Hong Gyeongyeon’s anger was probably justified.
But the world does not run on what is justified. There is a reason people say fists are closer than the law. In the director’s estimation, even if they fought the guest of Room 703 two against one, they would lose.
‘Isn’t there some kind of staff call bell around here?’
They hadn’t seen one when they explored the 21st floor, so there probably wasn’t one here either. A hollow laugh slipped out.
‘Wow, this is actually nerve-wracking.’
Only then did Lee Seonhae realize how much consideration Lee Yeonwoo had shown them. Hadn’t he assigned them a room farthest from the seventh floor? But here, there was no one to ask for help.
“……”
Clack.
Lee Seonhae extended her three-section baton and stepped forward.
“…Hong Gyeongyeon, over here.”
“Yes.”
“If your life looks like it’s hanging by a thread, maybe try holding back instead of charging in. My heart nearly dropped because of you.”
“I have nothing to say.”
Lee Seonhae stepped in front of Hong Gyeongyeon. Not that it would look any different to their opponent—but it was to stop this enraged chihuahua from lunging forward.
“Hello, sir? What a lovely dawn.”
“……”
“Please ignore what I’m holding. The thing you’re holding looks so vicious that I got scared. Oh dear, how frightening.”
“……”
“No answer? Are you shy?”
“……”
“…You’re not even looking at me?”
The man’s gaze was fixed on Hong Gyeongyeon.
‘Ah.’
She must have caused quite a scene earlier. This was awkward.
‘I was going to tell her to run and get help from the staff once his attention shifted to me. Though in this situation, would the staff even help willingly?’
They had already confirmed on the way that there was no signal. But if it was the hotel’s interference, maybe it would work once outside the building.
‘For that, one of us has to break away first.’
Leaving Hong Gyeongyeon behind was unreliable. But sending her away was impossible—the guest of 703 would not take his eyes off her.
“…Gyeongyeon, take one step back.”
“…Yes.”
As soon as she did—
“Oh.”
The man stepped forward as well.
“Hey, hey, don’t move, don’t move.”
“I wasn’t going to. Even if you tell me to run, Director, I’ll stay here.”
“No need to rush toward death.”
But what could they do?
‘Calling staff failed. No phone signal. Judging by his physique, escaping might be hard… No, the elevator is closer to us. If we time it right, it might be possible.’
She calculated the speed of the elevator doors, the distance between them and the guest of 703, and estimated his physical capability. It would be a difficult gamble.
‘Or maybe it’s better to maintain this standoff and wait for the staff to notice something is wrong. Considering my family background, they wouldn’t let me die or be severely injured here….’
She was running through worst-case scenarios in her head when—
“……”
Suddenly, silence fell.
Ding—
“…?”
A small… bell rang.
“…This….”
Ding.
Ding.
Ding….
“……?”
“Uh—”
Before the clear sound even faded, staff members poured out from the elevator and the emergency stairwell.
“…! Wait a second—”
“W-what is this?”
Hands folded politely. Smiling faces. Postures so perfectly arranged they seemed like refined dolls, as if the boundary between humanity and something uncanny had collapsed. With mechanical smiles, they blocked Lee Seonhae and Hong Gyeongyeon.
Two more staff stood behind the guest of 703. The rest moved into position.
“What is—”
The large man’s gaze shifted toward the open room.
“……”
“……”
A pale hand emerged beyond the doorway.
“…Ah.”
The staff moved.
One placed clean white cotton gloves onto the wet hand.
Another respectfully received the small bell he had been holding.
Another draped a new suit over his crumpled shirt.
And the last staff member pressed a white cloth against his neck.
“……”
Bright red blood instantly spread across the white fabric.
“Well now….”
Sweeping back wet hair, putting on a new pair of dry glasses—
“It’s quite a busy dawn.”
The general manager smiled, impossibly radiant.
The white cloth at his neck continued to soak red. Water still dripped beneath his new suit. Yet his voice did not waver.
“First, I must apologize to everyone gathered here. To allow such a disturbance in a hotel where guests should rest comfortably—I have committed a grave discourtesy.”
“……”
“The discomfort you have experienced is entirely my fault as general manager. If you would grant me a chance to make amends, I would ask for nothing more….”
With silent, measured steps, he slipped naturally between the opposing parties. Soon, Lee Yeonwoo stood face to face with the soaked giant.
“Will you understand?”
“……”
The man’s cold gaze bore into the general manager’s face.
Heavy silence returned instead of an answer. Lee Yeonwoo interpreted it as affirmation, his eyes curving lazily just as they had when he emerged from Room 703.
“Yes, thank you.”
The target—
‘…has changed.’
It wasn’t imagination.
‘The attention that was focused on Gyeongyeon is shifting to Mr. Lee Yeonwoo.’
Lee Seonhae gauged the danger as she studied him. She understood now why Hong Gyeongyeon had lost her composure.
“You look… not well at all, Mr. Yeonwoo?”
“Isn’t it the nature of a competent manager to become entangled in various incidents?”
“This isn’t the time for jokes.”
Dark bruising ran along his neck, and red blood seeped through. Though hidden behind the staff, he was still desperately pressing between his neck and collarbone to stanch the bleeding.
His hand trembled faintly.
‘No… that’s not the only problem.’
Clear crimson mixed with the droplets falling near his feet.
“…Are you hurt?”
“If I say no, will you believe me?”
“Of course. It’s our kind general manager speaking.”
“Then I must say I am not hurt.”
He spoke while still looking at the guest of 703.
“Guest.”
His voice lowered to a whisper.
“This is not your room.”
It was the refined composure of someone who had repeated the line dozens, hundreds of times.
“If you wish, I can personally escort you back. Is there any room service you desire? Or any items you require? Our hotel is prepared to provide whatever you request.”
“……”
“However, Guest.”
His voice was steady to the point of lightness.
“This is not your room.”
Firm.
It was politeness disguised as indoctrination. An inescapable suggestion. An absolute command issued by the hotel.
At least, that was how it sounded to Lee Seonhae.
“……”
“……”
What expression was he wearing?
The question rose unconsciously. She could not define what she herself was feeling. She simply watched, suspended, detached from reality.
And then—
‘…Ah.’
After a brief silence, Lee Yeonwoo turned his head toward them.
For a fleeting moment, relief flickered in his eyes as if confirming their safety. Then the flawless smile returned.
“Our staff will assist the two of you—”
Wait.
“Behind you.”
“Ah.”
Crunch—
“……!!”
The knife struck.
“…Y-you insane—!”
“Hong Gyeongyeon, stop!!”
Lee Seonhae restrained her before she could charge. She shoved her back a step. The staff once again blocked them with mechanical movements.
But Lee Seonhae had seen it clearly. In the brief instant Lee Yeonwoo turned his gaze, the guest of 703 plunged the knife into his back.
‘What kind of beast—just because his eyes left you for a second…!’
Cough.
Dark red blood surged from the corner of Lee Yeonwoo’s mouth.
“Ugh—”
As his body collapsed, staff on either side caught him. It was less support and more forcing him upright. As if he must never appear disheveled.
The sequence was grotesque. Not fear from threat, but something more visceral.
“…Crazy.”
Simply disgusting.
“……”
“Ha….”
Blood bubbled in his throat.
“Sorry—”
A wet gurgle broke the corridor’s silence.
“I’m sorry… you should return to your rooms now.”
“……”
“Our… our staff will escort you.”
“……”
“Tomorrow—”
“Will you be alright?”
“Yes.”
“Tomorrow.”
“……”
“…Yes.”
A question. Or confirmation.
“Understood.”
There was no longer space for them to remain, nor a situation for them to intervene.
Director Lee stepped away. She dragged Hong Gyeongyeon, who was on the verge of panic. As promised, the staff courteously guided them.
Hong Gyeongyeon glanced at her. Lee Seonhae’s hand gripping her clothes was trembling.
“Director.”
“It’s fine.”
They entered the elevator with the staff. The doors closed.
“It has to be.”
Surely a hotel of this size had a medical team. Surely it had the equipment and personnel for surgery. She reassured herself.
“And you… you really….”
“Should I kneel?”
“You’re really—”
“Should I bow my head?”
“Let’s decide after assessing the situation.”
“Yes, Director.”
“I’m losing my mind. At this hour….”
The high-performance elevator soon reached the 21st floor.
The staff escorted them to their room with flawless posture. Yet the quiet movement felt less like guidance and more like surveillance.
‘No. It is surveillance.’
A silent warning not to dig further. A pressure implying it would be better for everyone’s safety. Lee Yeonwoo’s face, always evading the hotel’s truth, flashed through her mind.
Standing before the door, Lee Seonhae finally stopped a staff member.
“Excuse me.”
“……”
“About Mr. Yeonwoo… will the general manager be alright?”
“……”
The staff stared at her.
“Um—”
Something was wrong.
‘What is this.’
A gaze without a single drop of emotion. Eyes that did not even flicker.
Then the staff artificially curved their eyelids into a “smile.”
“……”
“……”
Instead of answering, they bowed. It was impossible to tell whether it meant yes, no, or that they had not understood.
“…Even now, you won’t speak.”
The one-sided conversation felt unbearable. Lee Seonhae pulled Hong Gyeongyeon inside.
The hotel was strange. The staff were strange. The guests were strange. But what twisted her insides most was something else.
In this grotesque space, only Lee Yeonwoo looked like a person.
Her stomach churned. It was repulsive. Why does a place like this exist?
“…The end times, truly.”
“……”
On the seventh-floor corridor, where only staff remained—
Lee Yeonwoo vomited blood.
“Ugh—ugh…!”
It was so forceful it could have been compared to Niagara Falls. Fresh blood soaked the floor. After a long fit of coughing, he barely steadied himself.
It didn’t hurt—but blood was pooling.
“Cough… hack… ugh….”
“……”
“Ha….”
That was close.
‘If they had seen that, I’d be in NASA’s lab by now.’
He would have been taken for human experimentation, living as a sample forever. Standing with injuries like this was far beyond human.
‘With injuries like these, enduring is abnormal.’
His wounds were colorful, to say the least. His neck had been pierced by a drowned spirit’s nails. The front of his body had been torn. A knife the size of a signboard was lodged in his back.
‘At this point, dying would be the polite thing to do as a human.’
Apparently this body had long since given up being human. And that was absurd. You weak-willed bastard, I didn’t give up—why did you?
“…To think I can still be alive like this is ridiculous….”
He steadied his breath.
Now was not the time to marvel at the mysteries of his body. Tomorrow morning, he had to face those sharp-eyed guests. Especially Writer Hong, who was knowledgeable in medicine.
The neck wound and bite marks could be disguised. But the penalty from the Wet Person was the issue.
‘I anticipated it… but if I’d known the penalty would trigger so immediately, I would’ve sent the guests upstairs first. That was close.’
It was like the lobby before.
When paths overlapped with human guests, the Wet Guest initiated pursuit. It didn’t charge with a knife—but pursuit was dangerous enough.
He had merely diverted attention, as before.
‘The situation was more direct this time, but the penalty is the same.’
Increased nightmares. Hypothermia. Attack due to diversion. Injury. And excessive blood loss.
“……”
And this time, he had been stabbed in the back.
“…Last time it was my hand.”
He was displeased.
‘Writer Hong won’t find it strange, will she?’
He could pass off the neck wound as a scratch. The bruising could be blamed on lighting. But a full penetration through the back was harder to explain.
Humans are not as durable as fictional characters. Being stabbed in the back usually threatens life.
‘Left medial scapula. Intercostal penetration. Around the sixth rib… feels like intercostal muscle severed. How varied.’
Pleural damage was certain. A mild pneumothorax was likely. If the blade reached lung tissue, there would have been hemoptysis and severe respiratory distress.
‘If I can still speak, maybe it didn’t go that far? Or maybe not.’
A normal human wouldn’t manage a sentence.
It should have been that way.
“And now I have to act out injury and pain too.”
“Yes.”
“This workload as general manager is excessive.”
His body was indeed in tatters. But it was a game character’s body—similar to human, yet different.
Meaning physiological symptoms were mostly not reflected.
‘At this point, I’m less a human body and more a sack of blood imitating one….’
The blood he vomited earlier was because half his muscles and organs were now replaced with it, compensating for being half-devoured in the bathtub event.
‘Still, a stab this deep isn’t instant death.’
There was hope.
‘Even Writer Hong won’t think that far. She seemed panicked… I can claim she mis-saw it.’
No matter her medical knowledge, she wasn’t a doctor.
“My luck must be cursed. As soon as human guests arrive, nothing passes quietly.”
“Yes.”
“Which part are you agreeing with?”
“Yes.”
“Even you must admit I look terrible.”
He picked up Coco.
“With injuries like this, how many days for recovery?”
“Days.”
“I know it won’t heal overnight. Short phrases in a day, perhaps. Proper speech and walking—five days?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll downplay it. Depth two centimeters. Hemoptysis as a bitten mouth. If I move by afternoon, it won’t seem strange. Right?”
“Right.”
“Good.”
He turned toward the staff he had summoned at dawn.
They were diligently cleaning water and blood from the corridor. He felt solidarity.
“Like a black company without benefits… I should improve welfare after the tutorial ends.”
“No.”
“That would be management’s position.”
“No!”
“The structure is rotten. Who could endure this workload? Overwork will kill before monster guests do.”
“No!”
“Not people? That’s discrimination, Coco.”
“No…!”
He ignored her. Truly a wicked cat.
“Oh, Mr. Yeonwoo?”
“…Yes?”
The next day.
Lee Seonhae and Hong Gyeongyeon only saw him late in the afternoon.
“…What the—?!”
Hong Gyeongyeon stared in horror.
“Why are you already in the lobby?! You shouldn’t be here!”
“Oh? Why wouldn’t I be? This is my job.”
“With injuries like that you should be lying in bed—!”
“It seems yesterday’s disturbance startled you. It was merely a minor abrasion. No need to worry.”
“That’s not—!”
“I am the one who should apologize for the confusion.”
His response was impossibly smooth.
He checked his watch and asked politely,
“It’s late, but I believe you have much to say. Shall we arrange a place to talk?”
“……”
“What do you think?”
“…Yes. That’s fine.”
The director nodded.
“We were coming to greet you anyway.”
It felt like time to leave this hotel.