Our Hotel Is Open for Business as Usual - Chapter 96

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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 96.

The air in the Facility always tasted of rusted metal.

Enormous gears that blotted out the sky meshed together and turned, their dull metallic groans reverberating through the ground. Abandoned steam engines, seized by those who had claimed them, belched thick smoke into the air.

Damp neon signs were easy enough to spot scattered about.

“Ah~ ah….”

A man with an unlit cigarette clamped between his teeth scratched his head vigorously.

“Why won’t my so-called disciple answer his calls?”
“S-save me….”
“That’s why I told you to stick with me.”

Bang—!!

“Ugh, gah….”
“Anyway, not listening is just an artist’s trademark, really.”

Like these bastards.

“Let’s see where we are~”

The name [Rawi] flickered across the terminal screen, but as expected, the call went unanswered. The man casually flicked blood spatter from his gun and squinted his eyes.

‘Or maybe he can’t answer.’

He tucked the gun into his worn coat.

“Hmm.”

He shouldn’t have simply brought in that naive fool who’d grown up on the Outside, no matter how much he whined about it. He’d drilled the important parts into him several times over, but in the Gap-world, luck was ultimately what mattered most.

‘And this household has neither fortune nor misfortune in their fate… well, who knows.’

Could he be dead?

“…Good grief….”

This was truly troublesome.

‘What am I supposed to tell Elder Brother about this?’

That man wasn’t even a Gap-world resident.

A middle-aged face that seemed affable drew an awkward smile.

From the list he’d been given, that bastard had chosen a broker. They were all trustworthy establishments, so the odds of foul play were low. But that was precisely the problem.

‘Then perhaps he got caught up in something after all.’

The prime suspect was undoubtedly the Labyrinth.

“I’ve heard the Dokkaebi have been acting strange these past few years. The end times, truly the end times.”

Well, this man would have to find the body. If he didn’t at least bring that back, his Elder Brother—who’d received his son’s empty coffin—wouldn’t stop at merely grabbing him by the collar.

The Young Man laughed, imagining his furious brother’s face.

“Now where could our dear Nephew have wandered off to~….”

Hollow humming.

Behind him as he trudged along, a trail of crimson footprints stretched out.

Dozens of corpses with their skin flayed away.

* * *

“….”
“How unfortunate.”

Sadly, there was no exit in sight.

“You mentioned that this place is indeed the earliest location you remember.”
“Yes, well. It’s a blessing it wasn’t above the sea. If it had been, I would have died helplessly without even a chance to endure like I do now.”
“The Water Mist must have made it difficult to find your way. How did you manage to reach the Port City?”
“Ah, I have a water attribute, so….”
“…?”

Water attribute?

“…I see.”

Just as they had introduced themselves as mercenaries, Lee Yeon-woo nodded matter-of-factly.

‘These young people these days might define themselves this way as a form of play—like the blood type personality theory or MBTI that were popular in the past.’

It wasn’t incomprehensible to understand it through things like Digimon or Pokémon. A fleeting memory surfaced of my younger sibling insisting they were a grass type, but Lee Yeon-woo quickly dismissed the thought.

‘That’s not what matters right now….’

As always, the ominous premonition proved accurate.

Lee Yeon-woo, burdened by the water attribute penalty and half a Water Ghost himself, could manage. But these Two Students would not be free from the Basement Level 7 penalty. Without items, they couldn’t even find the path properly in such a place.

It meant they couldn’t stay in the Hunting Ground too long.

‘But if things are like this, the exit might actually be in a completely different location. If they didn’t arrive through a special door but through some arbitrary chemical reaction, the situation becomes even more troublesome.’

Lee Yeon-woo thought inwardly.

‘I must be going mad.’
[Yes.]
‘The difficulty adjustment is still a mess.’
[Yes?]

No wonder there are no users.

[Yes?]

Lee Yeon-woo fell into contemplation.

Should I continue operating the Hotel remotely while searching for an exit on Basement Level 7? Or should I bring these two students up to the Hotel proper, receive them as guests, and then send them out?

“….”

He silently brushed his lips with the back of his hand.

‘…This situation never occurred in the Game, so I can’t guarantee their safety if I proceed that way. These are still young friends—it’s too risky to test such a dangerous experiment on them….’

In the end, Lee Yeon-woo reached this conclusion.

“Let’s explore as much as we possibly can.”

Before we reach our limits, we search for an exit in the Hunting Ground. If all else fails, I’ll send them up.

‘I can’t afford to drag this out too long either.’

Since I’m currently limited to hosting only Monster guests in the open version, I’m not entirely without flexibility. But there are accumulated guests waiting, and certain guests required me—the user myself—to receive and guide them directly, not remotely.

‘There’s no telling when such a guest might arrive.’
[Yes!]
‘I should prepare to send them up if necessary.’

Lee Yeon-woo turned back to face the two students.

“The fact that you don’t see a door at the initial location you remember suggests either your memories have been distorted, or the door’s location has shifted.”
“Goodness, that does sound ominous.”
“From what I can see, there’s nothing particularly unusual either.”
“Then, um….”

Rawi asked in a deliberately dispirited voice.

“Are we parting ways here…?”
“I haven’t even shown you the outside yet—it would be premature to part ways now, wouldn’t it?”
“Well, that’s quite generous of you.”

Her laughter masqueraded as relief, yet her tone remained guarded and cautious. Lee Yeon-woo was beginning to understand Rawi’s survival instincts.

‘He puts on a carefree front, but his distrust of humans runs deep.’

In simple terms, he knows how to walk the line. He’s skilled at choosing which slope to lean against, which seat to claim. His opportunistic nature is pronounced, and he’s always ready to brush his hands clean if circumstances demand it.

‘Though ultimately, he’s still at a child’s level.’

It seemed that Seme, that student, had a rough understanding of such peculiarities as well.

‘No matter how I think about it, Seme’s mental maturity surpasses Rawi’s. The way they each perceive the other as younger is telling too. Quite the unusual pair of friends.’

Having reached that conclusion, Lee Yeon-woo opened his mouth in a measured tone.

“You seem suspicious of why I’m extending such kindness.”
“Is it that obvious? How embarrassing~”
“You’re free to think whatever you wish.”

For reasons I couldn’t quite articulate, I found myself amused and let out a small laugh.

“After all, even if I pushed Rawi to leave, he wouldn’t dream of separating from me just yet.”

It’s difficult to persuade someone with deep distrust through words alone. They’d suspect even clumsy kindness as poison. So I chose not to beg for shallow trust.

“However, the oxygen apparatus you’re currently using won’t have a long lifespan. Before innocent people collapse gasping for breath before my eyes, I should hurry to find you an exit.”
“You dislike seeing corpses, then?”
“….”

Lee Yeon-woo regarded Rawi in silence.

“…Of course.”

Lee Yeon-woo nodded shallowly.

‘Who enjoys seeing corpses?’

That alone had been sufficiently satisfied by the deaths of the Human Guests during my early days playing Ho-won.

‘And yet someone who chose the non-lethal route precisely because they hated witnessing that is being asked such a question.’

I didn’t bother revealing such absurd inner thoughts.

“At the very least, I have no intention of allowing such a situation to occur within the territory I manage.”
“Ah….”
“Since I’ve taken responsibility, I won’t stand idle and watch you all become corpses before my eyes.”

From their words and conduct, I could piece together the general picture—they truly deserved the title of mercenary. There was undoubtedly a harsh and violent world that Lee Yeon-woo knew nothing of.

“So then, why?”
“….”

Why, they asked.

Exhaustion arrived before indignation could take root.

‘A world where students who should be studying speak of corpses as casually as the weather.’

A horrifying world I never wished to belong to. Yet bound as I was to this Hotel as its General Manager, I myself had no standing to blame or pity anyone.

“….”
“Um, Lee Yeon-woo?”
“…Let’s move on.”

…Truly, childcare is not an easy task.

* * *

I began to wonder if he might not be human at all.

There were far too many peculiarities for him to be an ordinary person.

‘Why would he ask someone he’s just met about their age?’
‘How does he know this place so thoroughly?’
‘Why does he reveal nothing about himself?’

Most of all,

‘What exactly was that thing I saw back then.’

That ‘something’ glimpsed when Lee Yeon-woo killed the jellyfish monster. That unfathomable abyss seemed to cry out: ‘He can never be human.’

But that wasn’t the only reason I regarded him as inhuman.

‘The atmosphere….’

When I first saw him.

“….”

He was not the sort of person who left an impression.

Of course, Lee Yeon-woo’s appearance was striking—almost unnaturally so. But that wasn’t what I meant. He simply looked like a student who’d slept only three or four hours, or a salaryman drowning in overtime.

Yet… each time I met his gaze, a peculiar strangeness bloomed.

“Can we really move about so openly like this?”
“He won’t pursue us immediately. His hunts have a kind of cooldown period.”
“Cooldown? It really does feel like a game when you put it that way.”
“Indeed.”

Setting aside how he referred to what was clearly a Dokkaebi in a raincoat as a “person,” or the strange distance that emanated from such words.

“Staying in one place is difficult. Once he draws his blade, he won’t cease his hunt until his prey escapes his territory. But if you understand his patterns, evasion becomes simple.”

Setting aside that weary certainty unique to those who’ve seen it all—as though no one else could control the mechanics of this place as perfectly as he did.

“….”

Yes, it was these things.

“…Yes.”

That cold, hollow gaze that never wavered before any atrocity.

‘His actions.’

His bearing. Everything that composed him.

“….”

…Too idealistic to be human.

The expression was largely indifferent. At first glance, it seemed almost austere, but there was no hollow space where emotions were forcibly suppressed. Rather, it appeared as though unnecessary emotions themselves had been stripped away entirely.

Seme saw within that gaze a restraint that pressed down all of himself with reason alone.

“Do not enter houses that appear to be in good condition.”

The unwavering gaze remained fixed upon some invisible coordinate in the void, steady and constant.

“From now on, I will hide myself primarily in shops with only their frames remaining or hardware stores.”
“…Is there a reason?”
“In sealed spaces, this damp mist tends to consume one’s awareness. I have no desire to witness hallucinations driving you to madness, putting bullet holes through each other’s skulls.”
“I, I see.”

He held the other’s gaze only as long as necessary before releasing it, spoke only facts without emotional expenditure, and left an unmistakable silence in his wake.

That unwavering tone, paradoxically, calmed the listener’s racing heartbeat.

“Your complexion appears poor.”
“It is not.”
“Before you collapse, would rest not be necessary?”

The speech was somewhat rough and austere, yet what seeped through the lines was unmistakable consideration.

The eyes held no sharpness. What appeared at first glance to be hollow stood far removed from tender humanity—a deep abyss where profound exhaustion had settled, the kind that comes from witnessing countless deaths and having one’s emotions worn away.

It was like gazing upon a mirror that no longer trembles even when witnessing horrors.

“…We….”
“I wish to rest.”
“…Yes, so it seems. Could we take a brief rest?”

Could such a thing truly be called what people commonly refer to as ‘kindness’ or ‘goodwill’?

“Go inside. I’ll stand watch.”
“Are you certain?”
“I have no intention of being petulant toward exhausted people.”
“There must be more than one monster inhabiting this place.”
“It’s something I can manage.”

His kindness carried no warmth—only a grim sense of responsibility and fatigue, woven together with an iron will to see us through this place alive. And so he remained, always at the front line of danger, standing outside the door.

‘Look at this.’

It was suffocating, in a way.

‘He doesn’t belong in this Labyrinth at all.’

Suspicion of his true nature mingled with unavoidable gratitude, and beneath it all, a primal frustration born from his grotesque devotion. That repressed demeanor—so perfectly controlled that he carved away at his own flesh for others without a moment’s hesitation.

Given the peculiar circumstances, it was inevitable that he felt like an entirely different being.

My insides churned with suffocation.

“I hope you find sufficient rest.”
“…If you would grant us that kindness, I accept it gratefully.”

Seme was simply bewildered.

“….”
―You see, I…
“….”
―…I’m glad I could help.

Only bitter memories surfaced.

And those memories made Lee Yeon-woo appear as a ‘person.’

Because there is no bottom to the abyss.

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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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