Our Hotel Is Open for Business as Usual - Chapter 85

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

Chapter 85.

While Lee Yeon-woo dealt with the Tasteless Guest, the Wet Person had vanished somewhere. No matter how thoroughly I searched the Hotel’s map, he was nowhere to be found.

“But having made a contract, he wouldn’t have gone far from here.”

There was no reason for him to flee. His old friend Lee Yeon-woo was here, and there were desserts and the Aqua Park that he could enjoy and savor.

“The only thing left unfulfilled would be his hunting urge.”
“No?”
“Yes. To be precise, it’s closer to sadism, though it differs slightly from the textbook definition.”

At least, that was how Lee Yeon-woo saw it.

“The Wet Person savors the energy that radiates from humans writhing in pain and fear.”

It was no coincidence that his concept was that of a serial killer wielding a blade on rainy nights. As a Water Ghost, he harbored resentment and jealousy toward the living, but I could never deny that he possessed such perverse inclinations.

It felt like they had gathered only those Water Ghosts with particularly aggressive tendencies.

“Connected to that, he seemed to enjoy the hunting games quite well. Though the previous repetitive labor matter gives me some pause, the Wet Person seemed quite fond of the 7th Floor’s hunting ground.”
“Yes!”
“In other words, he enjoys destroying humans in every conceivable way.”

There was also the possibility that he had genuinely left the Hotel. He might have his own residence outside the Hotel. Lee Yeon-woo still didn’t know much about the identities or backgrounds of the monster guests who frequented this place.

But the Wet Person was prone to loneliness. After all that time with Lee Yeon-woo standing by his side, there was no way he would develop greater interest elsewhere.

Of course, strictly speaking, since he was a game character, calling him Lee Yeon-woo himself would be difficult….

‘A place nearby yet invisible on the map.’

It could only be the hunting ground.

“…The 7th Floor would be the most likely candidate. I’ve never shown them anywhere else, and since their nature is closer to fish, they’d prefer areas with higher humidity.”
“Yes!”
“If resources become available, we should also purchase a map of the Hunting Ground. It’s inconvenient not being able to check remotely right now. Still, if they’ve gone to the Hunting Ground to play, that’s something at least….”

After all, it was a space containing only monsters the Hotel itself had created.

‘Though we call them monsters, they’re really closer to fungi or plants.’

There would be no casualties, so there was no problem.

“….”

Was there?

“…Why does this feel so unsettling?”
“Pardon?”
“Something feels off.”

The truth was, Lee Yeon-woo didn’t know everything about this Hotel either.

‘I’m still only scratching the surface.’

Moreover, this persistent sense of unease was the first time since I’d given all my emotions to the Tasteless Guest. My intuition, it seemed, was doing something.

Lee Yeon-woo muttered.

“It’s like I need to shout ‘no’ at an invisible puppy in my own house….”
“Huh?”
“….”

While I was pondering for a moment, thinking of the ‘Maintenance Function’ button displayed on the interface and the invisible monster friend in my house.

“…?”

A familiar face entered the Lobby.

“…Oh dear.”
“Hello?”
“I’m not quite sure.”

It was Lee Sun-hae, the Director who had safely escaped this Hotel days ago.

Lee Yeon-woo adjusted the fit of his formal suit.

* * *

“…Lee Yeon-woo.”

Lee Sun-hae, who had been sitting in a Lobby chair, rose to her feet.

The men guarding her stepped aside with courtesy. Without even a moment to feel awkward about it, Lee Sun-hae took in the sight of Lee Yeon-woo approaching from beyond the Front Desk.

“….”
“….”

His footsteps were nearly silent.

A formal suit draped over a large, muscular frame. Lee Sun-hae found herself instinctively tilting her head slightly upward. Beyond his glasses, eyes heavy with deep fatigue gazed down at her with indifference.

Even upon seeing him again, his face still bore a youthful softness, yet the cool, oppressive aura that descended from his tall stature exceeded what Director Lee Sun-hae remembered.

But to Lee Sun-hae’s eyes, it was….

“….”

As if.

“Thank you for visiting us.”
“…Ah.”
“How may I assist you?”

His voice was exactly the same as before, which gave her a chill, but it was his ‘smile’ that truly awakened her senses.

“Director Lee Sun-hae.”
“…You do remember me, don’t you?”
“Of course. You stayed in one of the highest-floor Guest Rooms.”
“Then I’m relieved….”
“Have you been well since that day?”
“That’s not a question I should be hearing.”

With a firm handshake, Lee Sun-hae laughed hollowly.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

It was difficult not to feel guilt for having survived.

The student had been of an age that adults were responsible for protecting. That such a student might have died in my place, that they endured hardships I couldn’t even fully comprehend—none of it sat right with me.

Even knowing we had both done our best at the time, I regretted it.

“Should I have waited longer?”
“No, in the end, I would have guided you outside anyway.”
“Of course that’s how it would have turned out, but….”

Lee Sun-hae was the type of person who affirmed herself. But I also knew well that she couldn’t accomplish anything special in a hotel like this. So staying behind wouldn’t have helped much anyway.

Yet beyond such confusion and human compassion, the shock of experiencing something beyond reason remained intact. Lee Sun-hae wanted to ask about everything from beginning to end.

“….”
“Director?”

…Whether you really did what you said about half dying.

Whether those words were truly sincere. Whether it was some kind of ominous prophecy I didn’t understand. Or whether you had resigned yourself to your own fate—Lee Sun-hae wanted to ask.

I wanted to hear what situation you found yourself in, what kind of person you were.

“Director.”
“…Yes….”

Lee Sun-hae laughed awkwardly. Her eyes felt gritty.

“Sorry, I haven’t been sleeping well lately—I can’t seem to find the words.”

Lee Sun-hae made an excuse.

“At this age, it’s just how things are, isn’t it? Just breathing becomes exhausting~”
“I think it’s premature to say such things. Regardless of age, everyone struggles to respond immediately when fatigued, do they not?”
“Since age came up, I have to ask—Lee Yeon-woo is an adult, correct?”
“Of course.”
“That’s not the vocabulary of someone barely twenty, is it?”
“Haha.”

Look at him laughing it off.

‘Baek Mu-jin wouldn’t have called him young without reason, but I only have suspicions—I can’t say anything concrete.’

Lee Sun-hae had spent considerable time studying the intricacies of the Gap Society. She’d learned that Migun, Dokkaebi, and artists—their appearances were jumbled independent of age, varying by capability.

So she couldn’t be certain about Lee Yeon-woo, who appeared to be around twenty. He might be older than he looked, but based on Baek Mu-jin’s reaction… it seemed more likely he was on the younger side.

“I am an adult.”
“Oh, was it that obvious?”
“I understand your reaction.”
“Though I’d say Lee Yeon-woo bears some responsibility for that too.”
“I understand that as well.”

Lee Yeon-woo shrugged and asked.

“Shall I bring some warm tea?”
“That’s all right. I need to leave again soon. I barely managed to slip away from the film shoot to come here.”
“Speaking of which, you mentioned you were searching for a suitable filming location in this area, didn’t you?”
“The shoot I just mentioned is actually taking place in Seoul.”
“I see.”

Lee Yeon-woo tilted his head.

“I’m concerned you’ve traveled such a long distance.”
“How could I pass up the chance to see your face?”
“By ‘chance,’ you mean?”
“Your Uncle was originally going to come himself, but I took the opportunity from him.”
“I see.”
“I came to deliver a message.”

Lee Sun-hae glanced toward the Hotel Entrance and continued.

“Our elder is attempting various measures to block this path ahead, but he says complete closure will be difficult for now.”
“Complete closure, then.”
“I don’t fully understand it myself yet, but it seems there’s something like a formation array from martial arts novels. The intention is to prevent people from ever entering this path in the first place….”
“It appears to be challenging.”
“He also mentioned it’s characteristic of this Hotel.”
“I have no face to show.”

At that light, almost joking remark, Lee Sun-hae felt a sudden surge of emotion.

“Why should Lee Yeon-woo have no face to show?”
“…Are you angry?”
….

Lee Sun-hae wiped her face and smiled awkwardly again.

“…At my age, I shouldn’t be like this, but truly. Even as people grow older and older, there are always things to learn. Isn’t that right?”
“Your constant search for room to improve is admirable.”
“Hearing such words from Lee Yeon-woo makes me far too embarrassed. Anyway, so we tried to at least block passage physically, but he said that would be difficult too.”
“That is unfortunate.”
“It’s not even a ghost story.”

Lee Sun-hae recalled what she had heard from her uncle—that man who felt like her sworn enemy.

“Even when they blocked it with cement or iron bars, by the next morning it would be gone. As if it had never existed from the start—not even a trace of grass being pressed down remained.”
“It has become an unfortunate matter for those who made the effort.”
“After trying all sorts of approaches, in the end, we managed to set up a single sign that wasn’t affected by such phenomena. I checked it once more as I came in, and I’m certain of it.”
“That one did not disappear.”
“It’s something like an item that has undergone every measure to escape the Hotel’s influence, or so he called it. Though it’s consumable and requires periodic replacement, we left it as a temporary measure for now….”

Lee Sun-hae, who had been gazing at the ceiling for a moment, smiled sheepishly.

“I wonder if it would be better to remove it instead.”
“You are caught between two impossible choices.”
“Exactly.”

Installing it might provoke an unnecessary sense of challenge in people unaware of the truth. Yet leaving the Hotel entrance unguarded without any safety measures could just as easily invite people to enter.

Lee Yeon-woo adjusted his glasses and smiled. The escort standing behind Lee Sun-hae flinched at this, but straightened his posture again as the conversation continued naturally.

“Since you’ve given it with such good intentions, it would be best to keep it displayed for a while.”

He continued.

“There will certainly be people who burn with curiosity at the sight of a prohibition sign, but many citizens will respect its purpose and avoid it.”
“You share the same opinion as my Uncle.”

As a horror film specialist, I felt a certain unease. Most of the accidents she knew about had occurred because people entered places they were told not to enter. In films and in reality alike.

“Then let’s wrap up the matter of the Hotel Entrance for now.”
“Yes, that sounds good.”
“There’s one more thing I need to tell you.”

Lee Sun-hae, who had been wearing a peculiar expression, continued speaking with a slight delay.

“…They were saying this Hotel is far too expansive?”
“Is it expansive?”
“What’s visible is already quite vast, but he said it wouldn’t be this deep and wide if that were all. He suggested it might be worth investigating whether there’s any influence on other regions….”
“I see.”

Lee Yeon-woo nodded.

“I understand what you mean.”
“Ah, you do?”
“It was already a concern of mine. If the Chairman himself is saying so, it would be best to conduct a thorough inspection as soon as possible.”
“Then I’ve conveyed everything I needed to tell you.”
“Thank you for going to such lengths for me.”
“No, I should be the one….”

Lee Sun-hae, who had been speaking calmly, bit her lip firmly.

“….”
“….”

Her expression gradually contorted.

“…Is it really all right?”
“Of course.”
“Tell me you’re not lying.”
“I am not lying, Director.”
“Hah.”

Lee Sun-hae wiped her face with both hands.

“Then why are you acting like this….”

At first, it was relief. The student trapped in this deranged Hotel was truly alive, just as he had said. My heart eased at that fact.

But what followed immediately was confusion.

‘He doesn’t seem alive.’

The closer he drew, the more I seemed to hear the sound of water rippling from somewhere.

‘When I saw him last time, he wasn’t like this….’

Back then, he appeared exhausted and worn, but there was vitality in him. There was that human warmth people speak of. Between his measured, courteous demeanor, there shone through his concern and consideration for us. That was there.

But not now. Only a refined, polished manner remained. Even if I tried to attribute it to emotional wounds or trauma, this was an entirely different response from that.

“I thought we’d grown closer.”
“I, too, wish to repay the kindness you have shown me, Director.”
“But there’s something strange about your eyes.”
“Is there?”
“Why are you acting like you’re seeing me for the first time?”

The guards standing behind Lee Sun-hae tensed. She felt the air growing rigid. For those whom Baek Mu-jin had assigned to her with the words “come back alive”—for them to stiffen like this.

Even Lee Sun-hae, who understood nothing of the deeper currents, recognized that Lee Yeon-woo was strange. His current state could not be defined by human interpretation alone.

“It must be my imagination….”

It was not imagination.

“So this is….”

A sense of alienation.

“…This is….”

Not the young savior I once knew, no—it was still him, and yet. Like an actor placed upon a stage, he felt distant and unfamiliar.

Back then, Lee Sun-hae had not felt him as human, even though her reason told her he was not human. So why now? What exactly had changed?

“….”

Lee Sun-hae called out to him.

“Lee Yeon-woo.”
“Yes.”
“Lee Yeon-woo.”
“Yes.”
“Listen.”

She asked him, looking at his youthful face.

“You’re really okay, aren’t you?”
“….”
“…Lee Yeon-woo.”
“….”

No answer came back.

Before she could even fully comprehend what that silence meant, the staff members escorting her all drew guns in unison. Director Lee Sun-hae clamped her mouth shut.

The staff guarding the Front Desk, the bellhops on standby, the workers cleaning the floor—their heads twisted at angles that seemed as though they might snap, all turning toward Lee Sun-hae. Their eyes, black and lifeless, fixed upon her like a snare.

“Ha.”

Lee Sun-hae exhaled with a hollow laugh.

“No matter how I think about it, wouldn’t it be better if you didn’t change jobs?”
“Miss.”
“Why, can’t I say anything?”
“We may not be able to protect you.”

Ho-won continued speaking.

“It would be best not to provoke it.”
“What did I even do?”

Lee Yeon-woo added to Director Lee Sun-hae, who was trying to speak casually with a sunken expression.

“I rather like that name.”

At those words,
the gazes vanished.

“….”

It didn’t even feel like an instant had passed. Yet the staff members’ heads had already returned to their original positions. Lee Sun-hae watched as they disguised themselves back into their normal forms as if nothing had happened.

“….”
“However, that name is effectively nonexistent within this Hotel.”

Absolute nonsense.

“I’ve been calling you Lee Yeon-woo all along, haven’t I?”
“That much may be acceptable, but defining me as ‘Lee Yeon-woo’ within this place may prove difficult for you.”
“Honestly, I don’t care about any of that—but is there any reason here that I could possibly accept?”
“I’m afraid there isn’t one.”
“Then what’s the reason I can’t accept?”
“It would be difficult to explain.”
“How about this, then?”

Lee Sun-hae called out to him.

“Hotel General Manager.”

And the answer came back.

“Yes.”
“….”

It felt somewhat melancholic.

* * *

The staff of this Hotel were less individual entities and more components of the Game system itself.

‘Since they’re part of the Hotel too, that’s technically correct.’

Because of this, they desired to censor even the ‘playable character’—the Hotel General Manager. After all, the Hotel General Manager was also part of the Game.

‘It doesn’t make sense for me to be defined by the name Lee Yeon-woo in the Game settings. Ho-won sets your age before the tutorial begins, but there’s no section to determine gender or enter a name.’

It was a plausible hypothesis.

‘If I act in ways undefined by the Game, it would strain my body in the same way.’

A character’s clothes don’t wrinkle, and they don’t make expressions outside their settings.

‘Yet if that’s the logic, why doesn’t censorship activate when I make expressions that aren’t defined?’

Lee Yeon-woo knew his name was Lee Yeon-woo, and he knew that didn’t change even within this Hotel, but apparently—from the staff’s perspective, it seemed impossible for the Hotel General Manager’s name to ever change.

It was a fact Lee Yeon-woo had only discovered after five years.

“I didn’t realize it because hardly anyone has called me by my name all this time, but it seems the censorship is coming from this angle.”
“Censorship.”
“My oversight was insufficient. Though unintentional, I apologize once more for causing Director Lee Sun-hae to be startled by the staff’s actions.”
“Yeon-woo.”

He nodded.

“Yes, I’m listening.”
“I’m not sure if that’s what should be said right now.”
“I see.”

Lee Yeon-woo replied, and Lee Sun-hae’s smile twisted further.

“…”
“…”

A brief silence passed between them.

‘…Wait, now that I think about it….’

Lee Yeon-woo belatedly recalled something.

Across all cultures, having one’s name called repeatedly by an elder (at least in appearance) carried a relatively clear meaning. Especially in Confucian societies.

“…?”

…Could it be?

‘Am I being scolded right now?’

Was I really that oblivious?

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