Our Hotel Is Open for Business as Usual - Chapter 107

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 107.

“This Hotel has guests who wish to peek into rooms in discourteous ways, so I recommend you refrain from opening the door as much as possible from now on.”

It was something Lee Yeon-woo said the moment the door closed.

“Do you understand?”
“Oh, so suddenly?”

As Rawi asked back with reluctance, Seme reflexively answered as if making an excuse.

“It wasn’t without thought… I saw a shadow, so I opened it through the gap in the door. If it were a phantom hiding its body behind a wall or door, it wouldn’t have been able to manifest something like that.”

Lee Yeon-woo, who had been gazing at Seme, nodded shortly after.

“You have good instincts.”
“Um, yes, thank you.”
“Guests like that put us at ease too—it saves us the trouble of explaining.”
“You’re too kind.”

Even as Seme answered reflexively, a thought crossed their mind.

‘…They called me a guest.’

Rawi looked at Seme.

“What do you mean by a shadow?”
“There’s a slight gap at the bottom of the Guest Rooms door.”
“It’s too narrow to really call it a gap.”
“Narrow as it is, you can’t peer through it at anything, but a sheet of paper could slip through.”
“So that’s how you saw the shadow…”
“Dokkaebi who hide their bodies behind doors, walls, or curtains often cast no shadow.”

They hadn’t prepared it beforehand, thinking the other party wouldn’t see it anyway.

“But that’s not a guaranteed answer either. It can vary slightly depending on the situation. A Dokkaebi playing pranks in earnest mimics even such trivial details.”
“Then I nearly died, didn’t I?”
“You sensed the presence, which is why you were watching the door so intently.”
“Ah, you trusted me?”
“You could say that.”

Seme’s shoulders lifted with satisfaction.

“Either way, we needed to meet Lee Yeon-woo again, and in a situation where nothing is certain yet… there’s nothing quite as useful as an artist’s intuition.”

Rawi laughed like a sigh.

“I should thank you for viewing me as competent.”
“Consider it the blind faith of a common sorcerer. An artist’s momentary intuition tends to be more accurate than ten logical arguments from a mage.”
“People from the Gap seem to regard artists as remarkably extraordinary beings….”
“That’s objectively true to some extent.”

Passing by the two of them, Lee Yeon-woo surveyed the Guest Rooms and asked.

“Did anything happen during the night?”
“Rawi slept quite well.”
“Sleep is good rest.”

Unlike yesterday, he wore a slightly thicker coat draped over his shoulders. Beneath it, a neatly arranged white shirt and vest were visible. Everything was white and black.

Seeing the dark circles beneath his eyes on his bare face, Seme tilted her head. His black hair swept back revealed a still-composed face, but it could not hide his exhaustion.

“It seems you didn’t sleep well, Lee Yeon-woo.”
“I am resting.”

So he was resting only minimally.

‘He didn’t even say he slept.’

It could be insomnia, or perhaps he simply couldn’t sleep at all.

‘If our suspicions from the previous day were correct, then perhaps….’

Lee Yeon-woo continued speaking.

“Phantoms pressing the bell is a type of anomalous phenomenon frequently observed in this Hotel. It can confuse people, but causes no direct harm—something like dawn mist.”
“Is that so?”
“There’s no need to worry excessively. However….”

Lee Yeon-woo, about to say more, gestured with his eyes toward the two standing awkwardly.

“Standing continuously will exhaust us all. Please, sit.”
“Ah, yes.”

The three soon settled at the long Table.

* * *

The horror tale: “And Then There Was No One.”

* * *

“Have you ever heard the urban legend about pressing a bell and finding no one there?”

Rawi raised his hand at Lee Yeon-woo’s question.

“Me~”
“Me too….”

Seme slowly raised his hand, then asked with some reluctance.

“But I suspect it’s often an actual phenomenon rather than mere legend.”
“Please, senior. Out there, it’s just a story.”
“Is it really?”
“Ugh, seriously.”

Rawi wiped his face. All those urban legends he’d dismissed as mere nonsense came flooding back.

“I won’t be able to live peacefully out there anymore.”
“Compared to the Gap-world, the Outside is a place where even Goblins exercise restraint, so it should be fine.”
“Hearing such stories and then saying that doesn’t inspire much confidence.”
“Why do you think the sorcerer tries so hard to venture outside?”

Seme turned to look at Lee Yeon-woo.

“Then what you mentioned earlier—that bell being pressed with no one there…?”
“Yes, this Hotel has one as well.”

I answered in a measured tone.

“I pressed the bell just now partly to observe how you all would respond, but also to show you the answer. Ordinarily it causes no real harm… but if this trivial door opening repeats, the rules of this Room can change entirely.”

Seme nodded at my words.

“You’re allowing it to happen, then.”
“Wait, allowing? Do you mean… spirits coming in?”
“So you do know something about it.”

Rawi shrugged at Seme’s remark.

“It’s not proper knowledge, just superstition I’ve heard about.”

Like how if you tell the empty air “you may come in,” something malevolent enters of its own accord.

“Is it something like that?”
“Exactly….”

Seme glanced at me briefly before continuing.

“It’s a kind of relationship being formed. For example, when you ring a doorbell, you’re requesting that the person inside open the door, right? And opening the door in response to that bell sound means you’ve granted permission.”

Seme tapped the Table with a finger—tap, tap.

“That’s what becomes an ‘invitation.'”

A relationship, in other words, a contract.

“The act of opening the door itself becomes permission to the unseen Guest: ‘you may enter.'”
“So if it repeats, problems arise because…?”
“Because an ‘Open Room’ gets created.”
“An Open Room?”
“Well, different regions call it different names.”

Seoul and Gyeonggi Province call it an Open Room. Gangwon Province calls it a Mountain Guest’s Room. Chungcheong Province calls it an Empty Room. Jeolla Province calls it a Guest’s Room. Gyeongsang Province calls it a Spirit’s Seat. Jeju Island calls it the God’s House. Hamgyong Province calls it a Summoned Dwelling….

“In the end, it means ‘a room that has become capable of welcoming someone even in the absence of its master.'”

Seme, who had recited the knowledge of the Gap-world, turned back to look at me.

“I apologize—that explanation was rather lengthy.”
“It was a necessary one.”

I gestured toward the direction where the door lay and continued.

“From now on, even if the bell in this Guest Room rings, you should ignore it as much as possible. Aside from the Hotel’s basic services or special circumstances, I am the only guest who would ever search for you two in this Hotel.”
“But what if, by chance….”
“If you’re truly suspicious, I won’t stop you from checking the door viewer lens.”
“Ah, is that acceptable?”
“Meeting someone’s pupils directly is acceptable enough.”
“Pardon? Directly?”

Rawi asked into the empty air.

“Do eyes usually meet through a lens like that?”

The senior responded to the junior’s question with a weary but measured tone.

“They don’t.”
“Exactly.”
“Which means it’s not human.”
“Ugh, that gives me chills.”

As Rawi rubbed his arms, shuddering, Seme tapped the table with her fingers—tok tok, tak—and looked at me.

“Then there must be clear evidence that what’s outside is false. Since it takes the form of a Hotel, are there clues you can discern through the bell sound?”
“Seven to ten seconds.”

I answered curtly.

“If the intervals are excessively regular or contain subtle static, avoid it.”
“And besides that?”
“Abnormally clear voices from beyond the door should also be ignored.”
“I see….”

At Lee Yeon-woo’s words, Seme fell silent.

“….”

This must be experience speaking.

‘Resignation.’

That there were no ‘people’ in this Hotel besides himself. The being before him must have only reached resignation after experiencing it countless times. Because that’s what people sacrificed to the Labyrinth were like as they withered away.

Seme pretended not to know.

“Thank you for the advice.”
“I hadn’t finished speaking yet.”
“Ah, my apologies.”
“There’s no need to apologize.”

Having said that, Lee Yeon-woo blinked once, then rubbed the corner of his eye with his hand. It was an unconscious gesture, as if feeling the absence of the glasses he usually wore.

“…?”

Rawi asked upon seeing it.

“Do you normally wear glasses?”
“…Yes, usually….”
“Why aren’t you wearing them now?”
“I heard my expression changes quite a bit with them.”

Before Rawi could even ask what that meant, Lee Yeon-woo walked to a corner of the Guest Rooms and silently unplugged the cord from the in-room telephone.

Click.

“Huh?”
“Uh….”

Lee Yeon-woo continued speaking to the bewildered gazes.

“You can use this phone to connect to the Front Desk or other Guest Rooms, but you won’t have much need for it in the near future. The room service in this Hotel has a habit of bringing rather… unexpected items.”
“I… I beg your pardon?”
“A sort of prank, you might say.”

At those words, Seme’s eyes squeezed shut for a moment.

‘Dokkaebi pranks.’

This is precisely why I despise the Labyrinth.

“There’s no need to make such a face. After all, a prank is merely a prank. Ordinarily, they do nothing more than frighten you—they rarely pose any genuine threat to life.”
“You just said ‘ordinarily,’ didn’t you?”

Seme, still wearing that rigid expression, pressed further.

“Are there pranks that actually threaten one’s life?”
“Can you really call something that a prank?”

As Seme’s complexion paled at his peculiar response, Lee Yeon-woo continued.

“There’s also the distasteful habit of what they call ‘happy calls’—playing the voice of someone you know in the dead of night.”

Lee Yeon-woo waved the cord of the phone he’d unplugged before casually tossing it to the floor.

“There’s no reason to lose sleep over such pranks.”
“So we simply ignore them, then?”
“The Hotel’s pranks themselves, yes—but if you make contact with the Guests here, that becomes far more difficult to ignore.”
“Make contact? They do that as well?”
“They travel along this line and mimic the voice of whoever would lower your guard most effectively.”

Lee Yeon-woo looked at both of them as he spoke.

“In your case, it would most likely be my voice.”

He added gravely:

“I offer this warning out of an abundance of caution: should you hear me screaming through the receiver that I’m dying and begging you to come at once, ignore it. You wouldn’t want to hear the sudden screams of someone you know.”
“But what if it’s genuine?”

Seme asked, unable to fully conceal her concern.

“Surely you can’t actually extract such sounds from Lee Yeon-woo. He appeared favorable toward you in the Lobby, but Dokkaebi are notoriously capricious, aren’t they?”
“I don’t scream.”
“Ah, I see….”

Seme nodded and then fixed me with an intense stare. Rawi asked.

“Really?”

It hardly seemed like a genuine question.

“No, you should scream if you need to.”
“If necessary.”
“Do you perhaps lack pain sensation?”
“That’s not the case.”
“I thought you might be completely insensate.”

Rawi scratched his chin with the barrel of his gun, speaking as if bewildered.

“Say, Lee Yeon-woo. You’re aware your personality shifts quite drastically sometimes, aren’t you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your tone keeps changing. Just moments ago you were explaining things like a teacher, and suddenly you crack dark jokes.”
“Ah….”

I swallowed a sigh.

‘People are truly difficult.’

With so much happening lately, I had to admit my own state was unstable. I continued, feigning indifference.

“It happens sometimes.”
“It seems like more than sometimes.”
“When you work in an organization, occasional humor becomes necessary.”
“That doesn’t seem to be the issue.”
“At minimum, it’s not an urgent matter right now.”

I shrugged.

“Isn’t that so?”

He returned to the original topic.

“In any case, if someone speaks to you in my voice, ignore it regardless of the circumstances.”
“But what if, by any chance—”
“Even if it were a real situation, the same applies.”

His voice was composed.

“I handle my own affairs.”
“….”

Watching Rawi silently brush back his hair, Seme spoke up.

“…But couldn’t Lee Yeon-woo actually call us? Not some trap like that, but, well, if he can’t come right now and something comes up that he needs to tell us about….”

Lee Yeon-woo, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, asked.

“Get to the point.”
“Let’s establish a code.”
“You think that would serve as definitive proof?”
“A situation like that might arise when it’s necessary.”

Seme fixed his gaze on Lee Yeon-woo’s golden eyes.

“Can you guarantee that you won’t have any urgent calls like that?”
“Quite cunning of you.”

Lee Yeon-woo nodded with a dry expression.

“Do you have something in mind?”

Seme pointed to the black cord pulled from the rotary telephone.

“It’s the telephone line. You just disconnected it yourself, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“If the phone rings despite the line being disconnected, nine times out of ten it’s the work of something unclean… but if Lee Yeon-woo somehow managed to establish a connection through other means, the moment you pick up the receiver, please ask this.”
“What should I say?”
“‘Did you plug the disconnected line back in?'”

Lee Yeon-woo glanced alternately between the cord sprawled across the floor and Seme.

“Are you trying to avoid eavesdropping?”
“It’s a cipher using physical disconnection. As long as outside entities haven’t overheard our conversation, they won’t be able to know the concrete fact that the line in this room is disconnected.”
“Good.”

He didn’t bother to object further.

“If there’s ever a need to contact you, let that phrase be the first greeting.”
“Conversely, no matter how urgent the voice on the other end sounds like Lee Yeon-woo, if that opening line isn’t there, I’ll hang up immediately.”
“Even if you hear me being torn to death?”
“….”

Seme answered a beat too late.

“…Yes, I… even so….”
“Promise me you’ll run away even if I’m dying right before your eyes.”
“…That may be rather difficult.”
“You’re not in a position to pity me.”

Lee Yeon-woo swept his gaze across both of them.

“Both of you.”
“But,”

he added.

“I have to go home.”
“….”

Instead of Seme, who had fallen silent, Rawi asked.

“…Why?”

Rawi met Lee Yeon-woo’s gaze without flinching.

“Whether it’s in the basement or now, I’m genuinely curious—why do you help us so much?”
“Is that a question that requires an answer?”
“To be honest?”
“I don’t think so.”

Lee Yeon-woo shrugged and asked.

“Have you eaten?”
“No, not yet.”
“Let me help you with that.”

He rose from his seat and looked at both of them.

“Shall we move?”

* * *

Sometimes when you ask something too obvious, you don’t get an answer.

‘I’ve lived long enough to hear all kinds of questions, but this one…’
[Yes!]
‘I want to save you all, and they ask why? Do they expect me to say I have no intention of betrayal? Or that I’m actually the final boss?’
[Yes!]
‘What a strange fellow.’

Are all the young ones like this these days?

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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