Chapter 3
Since there was no answer, he decided to think positively for the time being.
“The weather is nice.”
“No.”
“…….”
Tok, tok…
The faint sound of raindrops.
“…Yes, I was talking nonsense. I admit it.”
The weather outside this hotel window was fundamentally vicious.
Whenever he looked outside, he saw only thunder and lightning, torrential rain, or fog. Today, judging by the misty drizzle, it was relatively mild by this place’s standards.
That did not make it good weather, of course.
“I simply wish to gain a bit of peace of mind by spouting such nonsense. If you would cooperate, at least you will not have to witness me dying from mismanaged blood pressure.”
He rolled his eyes toward Coco on his lap.
“Frequent deaths of a co-operator would be rather troublesome for you as well, would they not?”
“Yes.”
“I will take that as an affirmative response.”
“Yes.”
“Thank you.”
What a disaster this was.
“It has been quite some time since I visited my family home… Had I known my life would become so dramatic, I would have gone sooner. To postpone people instead of work, and receive the price in such an absurd manner.”
“…….”
“Have you chosen silence?”
“Yes.”
“I am not sure whether you have gained tact or learned consideration, but very well. That was rather helpful.”
“Yes.”
“To think I find such curt replies adorable. I must be quite strange.”
“No.”
“From your perspective, it is quite an effective strategy. Winning the favor of a colleague is the foundation of social life. I am almost inclined to praise you.”
Lee Yeon-woo rose from the bed. It was large and plush.
“Shall we change the topic slightly.”
“Yes.”
“I think about this every time I wake up. What do you suppose is the principle behind this bed? By what mechanism does merely sleeping free one from basic abnormal statuses?”
“Hello.”
Was it ignorance, or refusal to answer.
“…Personally, I believe it is a research topic worth investigating.”
The same applied to this body.
“It appears to be a result of the game being reflected… but that is the outcome, not the process.”
“Yes.”
“I am pleased you agree with my opinion, Coco.”
As befitting a horror game, while playing, the operator experienced various abnormal statuses. Mental contamination, coughing up blood, even crying tears of blood.
Most of them recovered after sleeping in the operator’s quarters.
There were statuses that did not recover even by sleeping or dying, but that was a matter for later.
Unless a bug occurred, it was not something to worry about during the current tutorial.
“But that does not mean this body requires sleep.”
The same went for meals. Meals merely resolved statuses that sleep could not. Sleep and food were not essential necessities like they were for an ordinary human.
“…….”
…It was indeed fascinating.
“If possible, I would like to try cooking as well.”
“No.”
“Yes, I remember. Unless the tutorial is completed, cooking is also unavailable. There are specific recipes unlocked per level.”
He rolled his eyes dryly.
“In this case, you would say I should finish the tutorial first. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“I cannot cooperate with a structure premised on unnecessary sacrifice. I am diligently serving monster guests as it is. Should that not suffice?”
“No.”
“What is needed in times like this is compromise.”
Lee Yeon-woo did not even have the common interface.
Since the game had become reality, it might have vanished entirely. However, Hawon was a game that only provided a proper interface after the tutorial was completed.
In other words, finishing the tutorial might bring additional conveniences to his current life.
Once the interface opened, various functions were unlocked. Cooking, hunting, performance, and so on. Even locked areas opened. The underground hunting ground was a representative example.
Then the hotel’s main entrance would naturally open as well.
That was why Coco insisted he admit a human guest.
He understood the intention, but.
“Who would bring a person in here unless they were insane. I am not young, and to commit such shameless acts… I have, in my own way, been educated.”
“No.”
“So this is a matter even before morality and ethics.”
He spoke dryly.
“I find it difficult to endure being a nuisance.”
“Yes.”
“Beyond that, to think someone might be injured or die before my eyes… My head spins. My stomach burns to the point I feel I should fetch my antacids.”
“No.”
“Ah, is that so. In your eyes, I must appear rather sturdy. Well, nineteen is an age when one could chew stones.”
An excessive faith.
“If I may counter, this is not a hotel that treats its operator gently, is it?”
He could go mad at any time.
“I might truly lose my mind and open the hotel doors to people. I have my limits, and beyond them, my judgment may falter and I might commit something unthinkable.”
“Yes.”
“However, by my current standards, that is clearly a crime. Personally, I believe you are recommending human guests for my development and convenience, Coco….”
“Yes.”
“I still do not like it.”
Day 100 of hotel confinement.
“…Let us end the idle chatter here.”
Lee Yeon-woo had still not completed the tutorial.
“Thank you for visiting.”
“…….”
Humanoid. No response to conversational attempt during reception.
Long, limp hair hung unpleasantly over a thin frame. Ordinary clothes clung heavily to the body, soaked, water droplets falling with every step.
The blurred eyes reflected no light. The complexion was no different from a corpse.
In other words.
As if by habit, the spawn conditions lined up in his mind.
Increased usage of plumbing and water systems. Condition unmet.
Activated when a guest with drowning trauma or survivor’s guilt checks in. Condition unmet.
External humidity above sixty percent and rain forecast.
Faint rain began to mix into his hearing.
Condition met.
“How may I assist you?”
The guest responded with silence. All surrounding noise diminished as if in a vacuum, while only the rain grew oppressively clear. Water system noise amplification confirmed.
A fishy metallic scent mixed with dampness pricked his nose. Moisture contamination warning. The precursor to emotional contamination through stimulus. At the same time, his fingertips turned icy cold.
Hypothermic response confirmed.
Water-binding risk detected. The instinct to flee surged, but during reception, movement was impossible. Such was this hotel’s unreasonable rule.
His body temperature continued to drop. His ears felt muffled as if submerged.
Water-binding pressure confirmed consecutively.
In simple terms, mental contamination.
“…Quite aggressive today. Or perhaps my luck is simply poor. Well, misfortune tends to arrive in clusters.”
If he could, he would submit his resignation, but where was the exit. Searching for an HR department to process resignation in a place without doors would be foolish.
Let us see.
Type. Both versions common monster guest.
Grade. High risk.
Collective erosion pursuit-type entity.
Name.
The Wet Person.
…This was not a tutorial guest.
It seemed his hundred-day prayer had reached not heaven, but hell.
He confirmed a suitable room and organized his thoughts.
The monster guests who visited this hotel were divided into three types.
Open version, both versions common, and close version.
As it progressed, the difficulty of reception rose vertically. The close version was content for so-called veteran players, where most users severed ties with the game.
And yet this was the tutorial.
Normally, only low-grade monster guests belonging to the open version should appear. Yet before his eyes stood The Wet Person, a mid-grade guest common to both versions.
A clear system error. The result of clinging to the tutorial for one hundred days.
“Yes, dear guest. Please wait a moment.”
He was not particularly surprised.
Though rare, both-version guests had appeared a few times before. There had been no major accidents then.
If one knew the opponent well, countermeasures followed. He had seen these regulars through the screen for twenty-six years. Even with added realism, they were not entirely unfamiliar.
He examined the guest again.
Desired length of stay.
In the game, requirements shone as bright guides. Now, he simply understood them instinctively, even if the guest spoke not a word.
“…Two nights, three days. Confirmed.”
They were to be guided to the seventh floor. However, room 707 must be absolutely avoided. Assigning that room caused flooding throughout the hotel for an entire week.
And in the end, he would deal with the aftermath.
If the operator or another guest died in an incident, that was one issue. Cleaning up was another. Especially if The Wet Person flowed into the pool or shower room, someone died with one hundred percent probability.
With no one else in the hotel, that someone would be him.
Assigning any floor other than the seventh led to the operator drowning soon enough.
He had no leisure to entertain a water ghost’s tantrums.
It granted numerous abnormal statuses and consumed precious hotel resources. Above all, he had no desire to experience the suffocating agony of drowning firsthand.
“I will guide you to room 703.”
Inside the front desk’s key rack hung classic-style keys in neat rows. The nearest slot held the key to room 703.
A convenience system reminiscent of the game, despite becoming reality.
He checked the number and handed the key to The Wet Person. Cold dampness touched his skin, but he maintained his smile without blinking.
“Please enjoy a comfortable stay.”
Where the soaked guest had stood, water pooled like a puddle.
“I see.”
One of The Wet Person’s traits was leaving traces with every step. Merely by existing, it damaged plumbing and caused incidents, a typical both-versions common difficulty guest.
The staff would be busy again. Perfect grounds for complaints after hours.
Entertaining such mundane fantasies unfitting for this hotel, he rang a small bell to summon staff. Soon, employees in suits identical to his approached silently.
“I leave it to you.”
Glancing at the damp floor, he narrowed his eyes with a smile.
“As you see… the floor is rather slippery.”
At the brief request, they began wiping the floor in perfect coordination. Swift and precise, making not even unnecessary noise, exemplary service.
Once finished, they bowed crisply to him and returned to their positions. Watching their retreating backs, Yeon-woo thought.
They resembled humans closely, but were not human.
“Yet they do not seem like androids either.”
“Yes.”
“It may be an impolite curiosity, but I am intrigued. Not even the sound of breathing, nor mechanical whirring, not even the faintest noise upon movement.”
At this point, it almost felt like spite.
“As if they wish to advertise themselves as mass-produced goods stamped from the power plant.”
It felt as though everything screamed at him not to regard them as human. If so, whether that could be called spite was another matter.
“In the game settings, were they not described merely as ‘a part of the hotel born from its resources’?”
“Yes.”
“That sufficed when it was a game. Now that it is reality, it is biologically difficult to comprehend. They appear neither living nor nonliving.”
Different faces and builds, yet similar height and physique, wearing identical smiles.
“…I see.”
He had never heard their voices.
“If one assumes they possess vocal cords simply because they resemble humans, is that prejudice?”
“No.”
“Now that it is reality, I thought perhaps we might exchange at least a word. It may make me appear immature, but from the perspective of a long-time user, it is disappointing.”
“Yes.”
“It would have been nice to communicate more actively.”
The monsters of this hotel could be defined in various ways. First were the monster guests already mentioned. Open version only, both versions common, and close version only.
Then came the master and servant monsters. Existing only in the close version, they were literally the owners and attendants of each floor.
Adding to that the horror elements present in all versions.
Sixty-six monster guests.
Thirteen master monsters.
Thirteen servant monsters.
Sixteen major phenomena.
Excluding minor horror elements.
A total of one hundred eight entities.
“Coco, you are….”
“Yes.”
“Which category of monster do you believe you belong to?”
“No.”
“Perhaps an external staff monster I can command?”
“No.”
“Then do you truly belong nowhere?”
The more monsters there were, the more the hotel’s power source, nightmares, filled. In other words, every monster within was a resource. But Coco did not particularly fill the power source merely by existing.
“Perhaps because you are the hotel itself.”
In truth, Coco was closer to a landlord than a salaried employee.
“Yes.”
“I see. No wonder your attitude is distinct.”
Had she fulfilled her role, then.
The same applied to him.
As user, owner, and general manager, Lee Yeon-woo oversaw the hotel’s operation. There was a reason Coco took the form of a cat. Quite literally, a butler and master dynamic.
Ultimately, it was a game. If the user disappeared, the hotel would cease as well.
He stroked Coco. Satisfied, she burrowed skillfully into his arms.
“Truly….”
The texture and weight were now familiar. It had become his daily life without permission.
“How ironic.”
He held the hotel’s leash, and the hotel held his shackles.
“When will you open the door?”
“No.”
“You must be insane.”
At this rate, he might grow attached.