Chapter 39
When Baek Mu-jin opened the hotel door and waited for its master,
“Thank you for visiting,” came a neat, precise voice.
The tone, pronunciation, and cadence were too clean for such a youthful face—like a well-trained announcer. It fit perfectly with the hotel.
And that was exactly why it felt off.
“Pleasure to meet you.”
“Yes. How may I assist you?”
“I’d like to stay for one night.”
“One-night stay confirmed.”
Its appearance was sharp and intellectual. Glasses and a suit gave a sophisticated impression. Though it smiled, no emotion leaked through. Thick eyebrows, narrow eyes.
‘A fox…’
…Yet its pupils were perfectly round.
Observing the eyes behind the lenses, the thin eyes curved gently, an almost magnetic smile.
‘Good with its body too.’
Whether by training or natural talent, this was far beyond what a newborn goblin could possess. He confirmed that this being before him was not a mere maze-born apparition.
“Then,” it said, drawing attention naturally, “I will assist with your check-in.”
“….”
Of course.
“…Please.”
Eyes drifting through the void.
Not a mere hallucination—what Baek Mu-jin sensed was a convergence of countless souls and gazes, all focused on a single point.
Silent, polite, orderly.
‘With this density… it’s enough to elevate a single goblin into a fable.’
“….”
“Hello?”
And another goblin appeared.
‘…Compared to that ambiguous thing, this is definitely a maze.’
Something awkwardly mimicking a cat. Glimpses of self-awareness confirmed it was a goblin—the true master of this maze-like “hotel owner.”
‘Then what is that?’
The one handing him a key now—what exactly was it?
“Room 1709, please.”
“17th floor, fine.”
“Before check-in, I’ll explain a few matters.”
“Under trial operation, some services may be unavailable, and some public facilities may be limited, including meal preparation?”
“…My nephew was in your care.”
The old man bowed, showing classic courtesy as the maze demanded.
“I came to apologize and express my gratitude for the trouble caused.”
Requesting a stay was part of that.
This maze assumed the form of a hotel and had its own rules. Violating them would anger its master—not something Baek Mu-jin wanted.
He wished to maintain a good relationship.
Rare things deserved such care.
“May we have a brief conversation?”
“…Of course.”
A satisfactory response.
It led Baek Mu-jin via elevator.
‘22nd floor.’
A considerable height. Beyond the glass walls, the rain-soaked forest stretched below. Despite being a maze, it was astonishingly well-kept.
‘A reflection of the manager’s taste, perhaps.’
The “manager” spoke as they walked.
“I apologize for personally guiding you, instead of the staff. As mentioned, some areas may be restricted during this trial operation.”
“And this?”
“Fortunately, primary maintenance of the hotel facilities is complete. Unlike Director Lee Sun-hae’s group, we can escort you to the lounge.”
“The lounge? All of 22nd floor?”
“22F houses the Sky Lounge and Dining. Guests may visit at their convenience, though the lounge isn’t fully prepared yet…”
“No staff in sight.”
The atmosphere differed from the lobby. Neither staff nor other guests appeared.
“There seemed plenty of staff; why not assign them here?”
“They are untrained in this area… please understand.”
“Very well.”
‘They even speak friendly, contrary to their appearance.’
The lounge was comfortable—rare in Korea, combining scenic beauty and cozy comfort. The sofa welcomed his body with softness.
‘You can feel the intent to operate this hotel properly.’
Unlike typical mazes.
‘If it were like other mazes, it would only clumsily imitate human structures for appearances.’
But here, everything—from staff placement to facility condition to the manager’s guidance—was thorough. He understood why Lee Sun-hae had survived so well.
Its gaze met his again, eyes narrowing.
“Do you find the seat satisfactory?”
“Not bad.”
A question arose in Baek Mu-jin’s mind.
‘What does it want?’
It was clearly more than a mere accessory to the maze.
Lee Sun-hae had mentioned conflicts between the two masters; this “manager” was no part of the cat-mimicking creature.
‘But it isn’t another self-aware maze either.’
Mazes are inherently twisted; they cannot form normal relationships, and even if intrigued by humans, their interest ends in tragic ruin.
‘Yet Sun-hae survived. Her young subordinates too.’
Then…
“…….”
“Tea has been prepared.”
“…Why no staff, unlike the lobby?”
“As you see, few staff here.”
“Understood.”
At the lobby, it had used staff to carry luggage. The sound of a golden bell still lingered in his ears.
“Do you enjoy it?”
An unprompted question, yet answered naturally.
“Of course. Tea has always been a good friend to warm one when hungry.”
“And this?”
“Soba tea. Perfect for enjoying on a rainy, foggy day with a new companion.”
“Consider me honored that I am deemed a companion already.”
The scent of buckwheat filled the air.
“Pleasant aroma.”
“Thank you.”
“Please, sit.”
The general manager seated opposite Baek Mu-jin.
He observed its silhouette against the dark window, briefly taking in the rain-soaked forest before returning his gaze. Its posture remained impeccable.
It seemed part of the hotel—but it was not.
‘It has been here quite a while.’
Baek Mu-jin clasped his knees and bowed once more.
“…Thank you again.”
“I am pleased you say so.”
“I am grateful that you did not reject this old man’s sincerity.”
Despite its polite demeanor, the youth simply smiled and accepted his thanks. Baek Mu-jin felt a strange warmth: pride, or relief.
“I felt the deed worthy of thanks.”
“Saving lives is that sort of deed.”
It valued life—benevolent, considerate, meticulous.
“…But you?”
“So kind to a stranger; you must cherish this hotel.”
“Oh, you tease. I do cherish it, but kindness to people is not reasoned.”
“Simply goodwill?”
“Living so isolated, strangers are naturally welcome.”
“Indeed.”
A human can be glad to see someone.
‘Hmm.’
Had it changed, or was it always this way?
“…Hmm…”
The tea was excellent. Even Baek Mu-jin approved.
“I have a gift.”
“Indeed.”
“I worried you might not like it.”
Baek Mu-jin knew good and evil, but placed value only selectively. He thought this gift, though potentially ideal, might not resonate.
“May I hear about it?”
“I brought a death row inmate.”
“…….”
Its round eyes, like a full moon, stared at him.
Silent, pupils peering into his soul. The expressionless face resembled a tiger more than a fox. A fleeting wish passed—he wished it were darker here.
“Ah.”
As before, its eyes curved gently.
“May I know the reason?”
“The reason for bringing a gift is always clear.”
“You thought I would like it.”
“You seem to feel otherwise, yet.”
Baek Mu-jin saw the jet-black goblin perched on its shoulder.
“This isn’t a gift for it.”
“Though our hotel is little known, perhaps you heard rumors?”
Baek Mu-jin sipped tea. When he last brought his nephew here, he smelled the stench flowing like underground veins.
“I knew nothing. Didn’t know this hotel even existed. But I did know it was built atop corpses.”
A familiar type of structure to him.
“Built atop corpses, you say?”
“You know it?”
“Indeed.”
The general manager smiled politely—a calm, composed smile.
“This is my hotel.”
“…….”
He would need to reconsider.
‘It wasn’t just that wicked thing holding the reins.’
The black cat—pretending to be harmless, fawning over its ‘friend’—was the true culprit tying the manager’s feet.
‘But they aren’t simply trapped.’
The story seemed more complicated than expected.
“I smelled death here. Thick blood, layers of screams, prayers to gods that should not exist. Beautified as you may, you cannot hide it.”
“Would anyone notice?”
“Honestly, few could know so precisely. But keen senses would feel the dissonance. Even unaware Sun-hae felt the distortion here…”
“…Sun-hae is doing well.”
A faint yet clear relief. Baek Mu-jin continued.
“This gift may satisfy her. How she uses it I cannot know, but bringing a death row inmate to a place fallen to the bottom… it pleases them all.”
“You didn’t know my tastes were so unusual?”
“It’s not unusual.”
He sipped tea.
“Extraordinary, indeed.”
Its value.
What is the true worth of this being? How rare and bizarre it was.
‘Yes. Exactly.’
It had spoken truthfully about his ignorance. But when one ages, many things become apparent without hearing them.
Baek Mu-jin’s gaze slowly traced its form, as if following the path of a misaligned spring set long ago.
“Do you consider yourself something… or here?”
“…….”
“It is me, as a person, and here, as well.”
Does it even know itself?
“Am I wrong?”
“No.”
It had approached politely, and that was wise.
“Not wrong, indeed.”
He almost ruined a valuable connection.
A goblin.
A Korean spirit born from objects infused with human emotion and time, living among humans.
Unlike the ‘self-aware maze’ Baek Mu-jin described to Lee Sun-hae, these spirits, though mischievous, adhered to honest rules and loyalty.
‘A spirit like this trapped in such a maze.’
The young goblin looked up at Baek Mu-jin.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes. I am merely curious, so do not worry about me.”
“I will guide you, hoping you remain comfortable.”
“Old age dulls surprises.”
He requested the manager to show the hotel.
First, he wanted to see the Aqua Park—the same three-stream river Lee Sun-hae barely survived. He wondered what could be measured there.
The doors to the 23rd floor, Aqua Park, opened.
“This is it.”
“….”
Clean floors, bright lighting.
Warm air, as if at a beach or greenhouse.
And… the peaceful sound of water.
“Unexpected.”
“May I ask what you mean?”
“I expected at least a water spirit (su-gwi)….”
But the water was truly clear.
“….”
Why?
‘A maze so impossible to be clean…’
The screams, pain, and blood that permeated the hotel were absent here. Only transparent, jewel-like water rippled.
‘Then where was all that despair stored?’
He realized the answer when he saw the young goblin beside him.
“…Ah.”
“……?”
“Nothing.”
Indeed.
The halted breath before the vast water, the swirling cold hands and water-beast tails inside the body, the unbearable stench of blood.
‘So this is why I could not leave the hotel.’
Goblin, truly a stubborn species.