Discover Through Adventure!

Discover through adventure!

But that heartwarming atmosphere lasted exactly as long as the door took to close behind me.

The moment it shut, all that cozy warmth evaporated. What remained inside the building now was me at the counter and two injured men holed up in Room 102.

Being glad to smell another human being, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and trusting one, were two entirely different problems.

If you asked me to name the single most bullshit-inducing moment of the apocalypse, it was always when you got tangled up with other survivors. Zombies you could deal with — crack a skull and move on. People, you had no idea what was rattling around inside their heads.

Get hungry enough, and they'd bash you over the back of the head. Spot the slightest opening, and they'd form a gang and try to steal the base you bled and sweated to build.

But so what if human nature was rotten? Inside my territory, they would be forcibly good. Call it enforced original virtue, if you like.

This was a violence-free zone. Except for me, of course.

Anyone acting like a piece of shit would get beaten like a dog and tossed out as zombie chow — end of story. I held absolute authority here.

I pulled up the status window.

"Huh?"

Han Taeseok got casually outed as an ordinary civilian, while the little kid was a wall of question marks topped off with Discover through adventure!

No wonder the kid had seemed less than ordinary. There had been something off ever since they so boldly cut into my system call with Yu Jin.

If the status window followed the laws of gaming — and it clearly did — then anyone with information hidden like this was either a hidden character or a special awakened one, no question about it.

Fine. The almighty Status Window itself had commanded me to go on an adventure. Who was I to disobey?

Knock knock-

I rapped lightly on the door of Room 102.

"Do you have a moment to talk?"

The latch clicked, and as I stepped inside, Han Taeseok, who'd been lying on the floor, shot bolt upright in alarm.

"Ah, Mr. Manager...! Is something wrong?"

The way he'd frozen up, wound tight as a spring — I could understand it. I might have been, in name, just an innkeeper, but to him I must have looked like the absolute sovereign of a shelter.

I smiled in what I hoped was a benign, no-big-deal sort of way and offered a handshake.

"Please, relax. I forgot to fill out the guest registry. I'm Nam Juhyeok, the owner of this place. What should I call you?"

"H-Han Taeseok."

"Your age?"

"Thirty-seven... no, sorry, thirty-eight this year."

"Where did you come from?"

"A shelter over in Gimpo."

At least he wasn't some identity-laundering fraudster. That didn't mean I believed him, of course. I pressed on with the questions.

"Gimpo Shelter? Did it fall to the zombies too?"

Han Taeseok shook his head with a bitter expression.

"No, not the zombies... The place split into factions from the inside."

"Factions?"

"About a week ago, these 'Awakened' people started appearing."

They'd been cooperative at first, he said, but quickly banded together and formed their own clique.

"After that, they swallowed the whole shelter. Cut the rations in half, spouted all this nonsense about widening the defensive perimeter, and then, on top of that..."

Han Taeseok's fists clenched and trembled.

"They started pushing children under ten years old out as human shields against the zombies. I couldn't stand it anymore, so I escaped with the girl in the dead of night."

Typical.

Humanity, as a species, never learns — even with the world ending around it. Seoul's streets got devoured exactly like this, and instead of snapping out of it, they were out there repeating the same garbage on a smaller stage.

Not that their sob story was my problem, of course.

What I actually wanted to know was something else entirely.

"So — these Awakened. What exactly can they do?"

Han Taeseok swallowed hard before answering.

"They really are... incredible. One of them ran a hundred meters in six seconds flat."

"...Ohh."

"That's not all. There was one who could recharge dead batteries, another who could turn muddy water clean just by touching it. The amount he could purify at a time was small, but still..."

Impressive, granted. In an apocalypse where civilization had been blown to splinters, that was basically Jesus-returned-tier utility. And yet it all felt a little more underwhelming than I'd hoped.

Maybe... I was way more of a broken-cheat character than I'd realized.

No, no. Stay sharp. Just as my inn unlocked new functions through expansion, their skills might be the kind that evolved through training or leveling. Today's battery-charging small fry could become a lightning-hurling monster tomorrow. Who knew?

While I was running these calculations, Han Taeseok let out a hollow laugh.

"But honestly... compared to your ability, Mr. Manager, theirs all seem like nothing. A safe zone the zombies can't even enter."

He gazed at the crackers and bottled water with genuine awe. On the surface, at least, there wasn't a trace of malice in him — a rather decent, honest face.

He didn't seem like a bad man. But a man was a man, all the same.

Where the punk thugs would stick a knife in your gut openly, from the front, the half-decent ones like this would drive it into your back while sobbing their eyes out. All the while whimpering, I'm so sorry... I really had no choice.

I kept my thoughts to myself.

"You're too kind. In any case, you'll be safe for as long as you stay, so get some proper rest. Just follow the rules."

"The... rules, you say?"

The tension was plain on Han Taeseok's face.

"Nothing grand."

I laid out the inn's simple house rules. Basically: act like a reasonable human being, and follow my instructions without question.

He nodded vigorously.

"Ah, of course! I promise you, there won't be a single problem!"

"Good. Then one last question, if I may."

I asked it lightly, as if it were an afterthought.

"The child who came in with you — that's your daughter, yes?"

He smiled and nodded.

"Ah, yes. She's my daughter."

The answer I'd expected. The only thing off about it was the way his eyes wavered — for just an instant, far too much.

I was starting to get a feel for it. Whether that meant something good or something bad, I couldn't tell yet.

Playing oblivious, I let the questioning roll on naturally.

"Your daughter's name and age, please? I need to fill in the registry."

"Ah, her name is Han Sea. She turns ten this year."

"Ten years old. Han Sea..."

Nodding along, I silently pulled up the status window in my head.

The age and sex had updated in real time.

But the name?

Still a string of question marks.

The age checks out, but the name's fake?

Either she wasn't his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠real daughter, or she carried a story so heavy the man couldn't even speak her name. Whatever the case, I'd apparently picked up a far more interesting little brat than expected.

I had no intention of pressing the issue right now. He was already cooperating plenty, and I saw no reason to cultivate a variable. It was this kind of world, after all — everyone carried a story or two buried in their chest just to get through the day.

I'd simply file away the fact that he'd lied, and keep an eye on it.

Not that it mattered much. This was my absolute safety zone. What could the likes of him possibly pull in here?

I put on my most tactful smile and rose from my seat.

"Ah, forgive me for disturbing your rest. Sleep well."

"Not at all, Mr. Manager. Thank you for looking after us."

I closed the door of Room 102 and stepped back into the corridor.

All that remained now was to see what haul the people outside brought back.

A short while later, the inn's door swung open, and there they were — the familiar faces.

"Boss! We're back!"

"Yaaay! Boss, we hit the jackpot!"

In came Yu Jin and Yu Hyeon, with the little brat scurrying along behind them, arms crammed full of loot. Mostly bedding, admittedly.

A fat bundle of blankets sat piled on Yu Hyeon's shoulders, while Yu Jin carried an armload of quilts and pillows. The bedding was in far better shape than I'd dared hope. Beyond cotton-stuffed blankets, there was even a plush microfiber set stamped with a district office logo, mixed in.

Vacuum-sealed in plastic, too — not a speck of dust on them. Pristine.

The best-looking one of the lot, that microfiber, was getting swapped for my own blanket. From the standpoint of guest service, the cotton ones were already plenty generous for my staff.

Or not. Their loss.

"Boss, I picked up a whole bunch of stuff too! Look, look!"

The little brat proudly set a plastic bag down on the counter.

With tiny hands, the kid fished out the contents one by one to show them off: a magnifying glass wrapped in a yellow rubber band, half-used bottles of last decade's lotion, a rusted pair of scissors, and a round tin candy box.

Which contained, of course, needles and thread. Back when I was a kid, I'd ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠been taken in by that exact candy box at my grandmother's place more times than I could count.

Nothing here was actually useful, but it didn't matter — this was just a test to see how the point system judged it.

Question: did the Guest Trade Bonus apply to items guests farmed for themselves outside?

And if even that got multiplied by thirty?

Then tonight was chicken party night. Half soy-garlic, half fried, torn apart with gusto.

With the reverence of a man awaiting judgment, I opened the status window.

Tch. Figures.

Of course it wasn't going to hand out points like an infinite-duplication bug. Only the initial belongings got the thirty-times multiplier; anything scrounged outside afterward simply didn't count.

"Boss, can I eat something tasty now?"

The kid's eyes sparkled with pure innocence.

Yeah, sure, kid. Four whole points.

Glancing around warily, the brat crept over to my side and whispered in a hushed voice.

"This is a secret just for you, Handsome Boss. Don't tell my sister and brother, okay?"

"...?"

From the kid's own pocket came something crumpled and crinkly, which was placed ceremoniously onto my palm.

A shiny silver square wrapper. In the middle was a picture of a strawberry, with the words Ultra Thin printed beneath it.

An ultra-thin condom.

"...Kid. Do you know what this is that you're giving me?"

"Vitamin candy!"

Chin raised in absolute pride, the kid declared:

"I found it in a drawer! The teacher used to open ones shaped like this and hand them out. The strawberry flavor's the best one. You have to try it!"

"..."

I was utterly at a loss for what to do with such pure-hearted generosity. One ultra-thin strawberry-flavored condom, sitting in my open palm.

"W-well... thanks. I'll, uh, enjoy it."

Eh, what hangs below it is also a mouth, so "eat" isn't technically wrong, is it?

Unable to bring myself to shatter the kid's innocence, I sighed and stuffed the vitamin-ish thing into my pocket.

The brat beamed up at me, radiant.

Bribery accepted; time for the boss to show a little heart. Not purely for that reason, mind you — if the kid really was an Awakened, keeping them close in my palm was the correct move. The man's leg would heal soon enough and he'd start pulling his weight, and above all, I had a defensive battle to fight in about twenty days.

One more shield on the wall never hurt anyone.

I pulled up the status window and manipulated the base lodging rate.

The moment I pressed YES, a soft chime sounded and the window refreshed.

With their registration as Long-Term Guests, a brand-new menu appeared.

Just then, Yu Jin came over wearing a worried look.

"Boss, how was it? Did they earn a lot of points? They can stay with us, right? With our Sea-ah?"

"Nah, they gave me pocket lint. But — Sea, you said?"

"Yeah, Han Sea. Pretty name, right?"

The status window begged to differ, but whatever. The girl presently known as Han Sea went sprinting over to Yu Jin and burrowed straight into her arms.

"Big sis! Ehehe!"

Then, buzzing with energy, she bolted off toward Room 102.

"Daddy! I worked really hard! The Boss even praised me!"

Yu Jin watched her go, then shot me a sidelong glance.

"Isn't she adorable, Boss? We'll scrape together plenty more points out there ourselves, so how about showing a little heart here, hm?"

"Already did. Room rate's at rock bottom. If nothing comes up, I plan on keeping them around for a while."

At that, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Yu Jin smiled.

"See? Our evil boss really is secretly kind after all."

"Quit spouting nonsense and haul the blankets."

"Yes, yes~ Understood, O Kind One!"

Kind, my ass.

How was I supposed to resist a gacha pull on an Awakened? The kid might be an SSR. Of course I had to check the odds — and if I pulled back the curtain and the goods turned out to be trash, out they'd go. Simple as that.

So here's hoping she at least earns her keep. With that prayer, I opened the newly unlocked [Long-Term Guests] menu.