Our Hotel Is Open for Business as Usual - Chapter 74

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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 74.

[The Card of Boundaries Dissolved by Trust]
[Memory of Respite: Grusam’s Luncheon]

“This is the last one.”

[Registering new recipe to compendium.]
[Yes/No]

“What a shame….”

[Yes]

“We’ll see each other again, won’t we?”

I didn’t bother to deny it.

“I love you.”

I know.

“….”
“….”
“…ah….”

At dawn, the White Raven cried out.

“Still, what a shame.”

* * *

Dispel superstition.

Reject irrationality.

Let us respect reason and, following philosophy, dream of rational governance and social reform. Valor and honor belong to warriors of history—look upon the world anew.

Is there truly glory in chivalry? Is there value in indiscriminate military heroism? Only the virtues of reason and restraint shall declare you nobility.

“Based upon reason.”

The Master would say this.

“Restrain yourself.”
“Define your dignity.”
“The world has changed.”

Violence without justification carries no weight anymore.

“Do not think you can return to the life you once knew.”
“…Why…?”

It was a light question—the kind anyone asks, a lament toward a world slipping away.

“Why is that, Teacher?”
“Because time flows.”
“Is that all?”
“Do humans not change?”
“Nothing is eternal, then.”
“As with all things.”
“If only it had been perfect.”

Regret, endless regret.

“If one became a perfect being, could they escape change?”

A way of life that restrains body and emotion, that preserves dignity. Now it had become the symbol of civilized nobility. The formless ideal moved swiftly, devouring the connected earth beneath it.

The Master spoke of that day thus.

“People are awakening from their dreams.”
“And the other reason?”
“To escape criticism.”
“You mean to say that his previous life contributed nothing to society?”
“Not only did it fail to contribute, but they say it squandered resources.”
“The wind has blown—now I must ride upon it.”
“Discipline your body and mind. Prepare to build a new Castle.”
“I am confident I will not be swayed by countless tongues.”

Now I had to prove it. Why they were nobility.

In the face of this critical public opinion, the young man—who had once been a boy, then an adolescent—prepared himself. To demonstrate that he was an educational and cultural exemplar, a moral guide for the ruling class.

Only then could he remain a true nobleman.

If the method of displaying his own superiority as nobility to the world had changed to match his arrogant nature, then he would adapt accordingly.

“Yet I am troubled.”
“By what?”
“You are born arrogant, and mistakes will come frequently.”
“I will prove otherwise.”
“Rather, make mistakes. You must fall countless times.”
“That does not appeal to me.”
“You are a person who cannot be perfect.”
“Time will resolve such matters.”
“Your arrogance will be your undoing.”

He spoke.

“The mistakes you labor to conceal will accumulate, and one day they will become a great trap laid before you.”

But after that day, he never broached such a subject again. The young man believed it was because he had proven himself sufficiently noble.

He was a ruler of sound judgment, a model for society through his restraint, and he proved himself still necessary as a guide for the ruling class. He cultivated learning and propriety, making himself noble through his own efforts.

For reason and temperance are the symbols of nobility.

“Your reputation is quite favorable.”
“Is that so?”

The Young Man became an artist.

“Compose yourself.”

I followed that instruction faithfully.

A refined mind that distinguished itself from the ignorant masses. Vast knowledge and cultivated manners. The composure to govern all passion through reason. Thus I pursued the ideals of rationalism and restraint.

Yet when I beheld a beast thrashing about in its savagery, such thoughts arose unbidden.

“….”
“Exercise restraint.”
“I understand.”

I wanted to see that blood spilled.

‘Ah.’

How exhilarating it would be. How liberated.

If I could grip a blade and drive it through that throat. If I could shed this wretched reason and rampage freely. Or better yet, if I could cross blades with a human rather than a beast—perhaps this accursed headache would finally subside.

The world has long passed the age of the hunt. Those endless feasts and days of indulgence will never come again.

“….”

Will they truly never return?

“Might those days not come again?”
“It would be difficult.”
“Why?”
“Because the world does not change in an instant.”
“And why is that?”
“Humanity as a collective has always been thus.”

Their numbers are vast, and their nature capricious.

“It takes an immense span of time before the world accepts the wind of change.”
“Then it will not shift within my lifetime.”
“How many points does one pass through, circling that colossal pillar only to return to the origin?”
“Your words ring true.”

Yet the Young Man was arrogant, unwilling to surrender anything.

“Is there truly no path for me to achieve perfection?”
“….”

In a world where nothing is eternal, even as things shift and transform, they inevitably circle back to their origin. The world flows in such a manner, and I shall stand upon that current. I will harness that very flow.

“Surely I possess the qualification.”
“…Arrogant one.”
“Will only the guilty walk that path?”
“I will not stop you from treading that road.”
“Is there reason behind that as well?”
“Because it keeps me alive.”
“Indeed.”

And so he reached for Blood Magic.

“You will come to regret it.”
“Not as deeply as you have.”
“The pain will be immense.”
“I can endure it.”
“You are mistaken.”
“I am of the Nobility.”

Forever noble, eternally of the Nobility.

“Make me Belmarés, Teacher.”
“Gladly.”

He answered.

“I will do as you ask.”
“….”
“As a criminal of your Castle.”
“….”
“…As a servant of blood.”

I thought that way, I could become perfect.

Never knowing how shallow the reason of a prideful man truly was.

A life that was nothing but mistake became, in the end, a trap.

“….”
“….”
“….”

Not a drop of blood remained—the Monster laughed in the hollow Castle.

“May I eat?”

If only one had remained. A single corpse. Just one of flesh, blood, or emotion.

“May I eat?”

Then it would have been good.

Ah, my throat was parched.

* * *

I wandered through countless eras and lands.

“Kyaaaaaaah!!!”
“A m-monster, that monster…!”
“Seize it, quickly!!”

My body was imperfect, my reason twisted, my senses merged into something brutally singular.

The sensation upon the tongue I had once loved most had vanished. What remained instead was only the metallic reek of blood. The only thing I could taste was that bitter, iron flavor. A taste so acrid it burned.

“….”

I couldn’t endure like this. I couldn’t remain as I was.

“May I eat?”

I consumed them one by one.

Joy, hope, trust first. Then despair, rage, jealousy. In the end, I devoured everything—the hollow husk of a body stripped of all feeling, and sometimes entire souls—drawing them into myself, mixing them with my own essence.

Thus I lost the boundary between myself and others.

“The rain doesn’t fall.”

On some days, I bore a farmer’s despair upon my shoulders.

“I smell blood.”

On other days, I cradled a soldier’s fury in my chest.

I was no longer nobility, no longer human. Only a grotesque amalgamation of emotions and blood—a Monster stitched together from countless souls, forced into a semblance of form.

For centuries, I had never lived as a person.

“….”

Absorbing.

“….”

Merging.

“….”

Wandering.

Within me, countless voices wailed. Yet their cries always faded with the scent of blood. I understood: I had dreamed of eternal nobility, but only eternal emptiness would ever walk beside me.

And so I stood before a Castle.

“…Blood….”

Drenched in blood, it was a wanderer’s refuge.

* * *

So I wondered.

“Cough, hack.”
“….”
“Ugh… uuugh….”
“….”
“Haa….”

What difference is there between you and me?

“Ah….”
“…May I eat?”
“Your luck is absolutely abysmal.”

The young man stared at the young Castle Lord seated across from him. He spoke.

“Three penalties stacking consecutively—what misfortune.”

His words were true.

“….”

He had evaded the young man with remarkable skill.

Venturing into darkened corridors. Concealing himself behind pipes and pillars. Evading the Watchers’ gaze to examine record files. Even throwing himself into the Aquarium or severing parts of his own body to lure them away.

Diligent and faithful. He was preparing something that the young man could not fathom.

“….”

If I did not know what it was by now, it would be shameful for a blood drinker.

“….”
“…haha!”

Yet the question lingered still.

“Let’s try again.”

How was such a thing even possible?

The Young Man opened his mouth.

“Originally….”
“I’m listening.”
“I was going to be angry.”
“That’s fine too.”
“This is the last time—if it becomes unpleasant, truly.”
“Because you deceived me?”
“Your performance was excellent.”
“I thought so as well.”
“Did you weep?”

I wondered.

“You were afraid, weren’t you?”

Even if it was an act, I judged that the terror, the vigilance, the despair within it could not be false.

How many people consumed by such negative emotions had I witnessed across the years? Those eyes stained with tears, that gaze worn thin by exhaustion—none of it could have been fabricated. I know this because I am a vampire who feeds on humans.

And so I continued.

“Piece by piece, fragment by fragment, separating from me….”

Until I no longer knew what manner of person I was.

“Too shattered to be reassembled again.”

Lost in the helplessness of not knowing where to begin.

“You must have been frightened?”
“I was.”
“Then why are you smiling?”
“Fortunately for me, you couldn’t take away my reason as well.”
“You consider that fortunate?”
“There’s no reason not to.”
“Fear exists because there is something to lose.”
“I understand that too.”
“….”
“…Yes….”

Lee Yeon-woo’s eyes crinkled as he laughed.

“You are strong, blessed with an appealing form, and possess formidable ability.”
“This time, I won.”
“I acknowledge that as well.”
“I will win next time too.”
“So, do you believe you can obtain what you desire?”

Something peculiar gleamed in those eyes.

“Try it then.”

The words carried the certainty of wind’s flow—absolute and unshakeable.

“If I appeared so trivial to you, I find myself disappointed.”

I spoke with the conviction of one who understood the very laws of existence.

“….”

…The young man, the Tasteless Guest, was strong.

Strong, just as the young Castle Lord had said. Incomplete and grotesque though he was, the years he had lived granted him substance. He had endured, devouring everything from fleeting joy to anguished screams. He was strong, and his opponent was weak.

Yet the young man could not comprehend how Lee Yeon-woo could be as he was.

“Your pace is rather slow. It seems you’re not in the mood to enjoy your meal.”
“Yes.”
“Even if I were to treat you?”
“Yes.”
“A lie.”

He spoke thus.

“Yet you won’t avoid it.”
“….”
“…What a dreadful person….”

Then he laughed.

A young spirit who had lived less than half his allotted time. A god fashioned by vulgar hands and torn asunder. Yet still believing himself human, how could he smile like that?

Ah, the Tasteless Guest understood the meaning of that smile.

Compassion and satisfaction, and something fierce….

“….”
“….”

The hunger to dominate.

“Our Staff Members will assist you with the remainder of your meal.”
“….”
“Until next time.”

I had wondered why he didn’t crumble. Beneath that veneer of goodwill lay such a face.

‘…The instinct to cherish what is broken most of all.’

A curious thing.

‘And repugnant.’

When Blood Mages devour one another, it is ultimately a battle where the one with the more bloated ego prevails. To dare consume the master of this vast system, adhering to its rules was the path that most reliably solidified the probability of success.

But following that sequence in order would take far too long.

‘So I pressured that young thing, frightened him, consumed his affirmation to corrupt him, and shook even his sense of self—all to hasten the feast by even a moment.’

Yet instead of crumbling, he’s attempting to inject humanity into me.

‘Did I waver?’
‘I wavered once. Never twice.’
‘This is the last.’

The last. The final chance.

Of course I’m enraged—he deceived me.

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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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