Chapter 59 |
Yeon-woo knows.
"......"
That knowing something can make a person miserable, but it cannot kill them outright.
"Provided you truly, properly know, that is."
"I see."
"Nothing is ever easy."
Rather than someone else's bomb that could go off at any moment, a risk one could control with one's own hands was preferable.
Yeon-woo had always been that sort of person. His nature was not resilient enough to be unbothered; he tired easily from even small ripples.
And so, he courteously sought consent.
It had been a conversation in the small hours, sometime before.
***
"Director."
"What, you fucker?"
"We're fucked."
"God damn it, I told you not to bring up dirty talk in the sacred Sensitivity Bureau."
"I'm genuinely curious -- is 'fuck' not dirty?"
"Just spit it out."
The Director tilted her head, and the Section Chief nodded in return before setting down a thick sheaf of documents.
"A cooperation dispatch came in from the European Union."
"Just hearing that much already tells me we're fucked."
"It has not even been one minute since you told us not to use dirty language in the sacred Sensitivity Bureau."
"God damn these bastards -- they were going on about 'monkey go home' and now what fresh hell is this?"
"Ah, was that so? I didn't even know...."
The Section Chief pointed past the door and asked.
"The staff are using the fire pit -- want me to go burn it?"
"If you're going to burn it, just burn it. Why come back here? Go do your rounds instead."
"As expected of our Director, a most reasonable instruction."
"Then act on it. Don't just run your mouth, kid."
CRACK --
The Director stretched her neck and asked.
"So why?"
"Well...."
The Section Chief continued.
"A 'White Crow' has made landfall on the Korean Peninsula."
"Well, well."
Pulling glasses from her drawer on account of her aging eyes, the Director studied the documents for a long while. Then she removed the glasses and tapped the frames in her hand.
"Someone flew in an aircraft carrier -- tell them to turn themselves in."
"It appears to have walked here on its own two feet."
"Ah, fuck. These damn Gaps never take a holiday."
The Director tilted her head once more.
"Gather the team."
"I will assemble a special team."
"No, no -- well, that too, but."
"I'm listening."
"Assemble the body cleanup crew."
"Ah, that. The budget's going to crack."
"The one getting cracked is me when I go beg for the budget, you fucker."
"Isn't that your right and duty as Director?"
"Getting beaten doesn't come with rights, you lunatic."
She spoke in her usual blunt tone.
"If it's a 'White Crow,' that's a Labyrinth that's been around since the sixteenth century."
"Yes, that's correct. One of the famous classical Labyrinths."
"So there's nothing we can do."
The Section Chief nodded as if to agree.
"Need popcorn?"
"Before that, update the files and burn the printouts. Ward off the bad energy."
"You hate Europe that much? Isn't that racial discrimination?"
"The gates of hell opened in Europe, for fuck's sake."
Since when was the devil's country of origin 'monkey,' indeed. As someone whose position required communication with agencies worldwide, the Director had not forgotten the grudge from the month before last. They started it.
The Section Chief rubbed his chin, then asked.
"Still, the religious Dokkaebi they manage over there is... relatively docile, isn't it?"
"If Mr. Lu-[redacted] is docile then just how docile is that? You've lost it. Come to think of it, you must be a spy of the devil."
"My, however did you find out? To prove my innocence, I shall go burn the cooperation dispatch in the fire pit."
"Don't forget to type it up separately and distribute the notice to all team leaders."
CREAK--
Leaning back in her chair, the Director added.
"Go without pain."
"......"
"...You worked hard."
The Section Chief answered with a smile.
"I'll be on my w■◀y, th○n."
"Yeah."
It seemed he had been selected by Mr. Lu-[redacted].
'And then he has the nerve to call that thing docile. The lunatic.'
The Director casually dismissed the Section Chief's voice, which had been warping grotesquely like a hymn for some time now.
In the Sensitivity Bureau, there were personnel who inevitably died. Because Dokkaebi lurking across the globe could kill a person merely by having their name spoken or recalled.
Watching the Section Chief's familiar retreating back, the Director put a cigarette to her lips.
"Rotten bastards."
In some circles, those who took on death for the sake of relaying information were called 'Envoys.'
"Barely gets the briefing out and goes and dies on me...."
Three days later. By the time the rosters for both the special team and the body cleanup crew had been finalized, and the cooperation dispatch had been updated on the bulletin board, Section Chief Hong's headless corpse was found standing upright in the columbarium.
And so the first assignment for both teams became the posthumous affairs of their founder.
***
The basic human senses are commonly called the five senses. Eyes perceive light and form, ears detect vibration, the nose detects odor, and the skin senses warmth.
Becoming blood had not changed things much.
'I am still seeing.'
'Still hearing. Still smelling.'
'I feel the world with my entire body.'
Thanks to every single drop of blood retaining its sensation.
'But I cannot speak.'
Human language was beyond his reach.
'Nor can I taste through a tongue.'
Because this was merely blood that imitated a tongue.
'In the end, I cannot be human.'
Sight, hearing, smell, touch, taste. People defined these as human senses, but the thoughts of an old Dokkaebi who had drifted through the cracks of humanity for ages were different.
'The drowsiness that crept in when I closed my eyes.'
Sleep.
'The affection whispered at my ear.'
Love.
'The seasonal wind that brushed the tip of my nose.'
Time.
'The warmth transmitted through skin.'
Body heat.
'Even the happiness that made me smile when it touched my tongue.'
Even desire.
In those days, the vampire who had ceased to be even a forgotten nobleman had nothing left. Things he could not reclaim, yet was obliged to forget. And so he forgot.
He believed he had forgotten.
"......"
And then the first dish arrived.
He surveyed the plate by instinct.
He had spent long ages swapping identities. Though he could not taste, his eye for reading the technique and care invested in a dish -- and the intent behind it -- was something he could trust.
'Considerable... care was taken.'
In the sheen flowing across the pate's surface, he saw patience, and the crumb structure of the accompanying bread boasted perfection. Flawless and superb.
'This level of skill.'
Were it not for the fact that the other party was a Velmareth, he would want to teach him personally.
'A harmony befitting a social occasion.'
If the other party had set such a painstaking stage, then the wise course was to respond with the dignity it warranted.
'What manner of praise shall I offer?'
With a chef's eye he appraised the technique, with a critic's mind he prepared his compliments, and with the gestures befitting this occasion he took up the cutlery.
And yet.
"......"
...The fingertips gripping the fork trembled ever so slightly. Something was wrong.
His mind was analyzing the information, yet his body of blood was invading the rational domain before his intellect could. The inside of his mouth prickled and the backs of his eyes throbbed.
'What is this?'
Not entirely unfamiliar -- a sensation he certainly knew.
'What was it...?'
Poison? He rolled his eyes. What was this hot, viscous liquid pooling in his mouth, and what was this strange convulsion twisting his stomach?
The futile attempts of those who had threatened him over the centuries came to mind. It might be poison, or perhaps a cunning trap of Blood Magic.
"......"
It was not poison. Nor Blood Magic.
If it were, he would not be floundering like this.
Only then did the faintest fragment surface. It was neither pain nor sorcery.
A nearly forgotten era. The utterly natural bodily response he had experienced when he gladly endured hunger and thirst to face the table. A sensation so ancient he had completely lost track of it.
So then, this is.
"......?"
Appetite... is it?
He reached out.
The moment the fork parted the pate, he felt softness. The moment it was lifted to the utensil, he felt a satisfying weight. He tapped the freshly baked bread lightly, then chose a piece.
He placed the pate atop it, brought it to his mouth, and warmth flooded in.
"......"
The bread crust crumbled with a crisp sound, releasing a nutty fragrance like dandelion. The pate that met his tongue enveloped it as gently as melted butter.
The dense, ferrous aroma unique to liver grazed him for a moment before the harmony of herb butter and spices embraced that roughness into roundness. With each bite, the smoothly dissolving texture of the meat mingled with the crisp breadcrumbs, composing a varied refrain.
The fragrance of herbs rose.
"......"
I am having a meal right now.
"......"
The guest who loved blood sat still for a long while.
***
"Hello?"
To Coco's question, Yeon-woo answered after a brief glance at the notification window.
"Yes, I have registered it."
"Hello."
"Of course I am being careful. You worry a great deal, Coco."
"Yes."
"Dear me."
The dining area was a zone where he had previously applied an automation Protocol. He had just registered a recipe exclusive to The Guest Without Taste. This way, when the guest arrived, the staff would attend to him automatically.
The monster cat had been right.
'Stepping in personally is dangerous.'
He was already in a position of evading other Monster Guests. If the staff could handle it in his stead, that was safest. This was only a sample course, and there were still imperfections.
His body ached. Yeon-woo leaned against the counter.
"It was wise to apply the automation Protocol to the dining area. It paid off to attend to a frequently visited area. I never expected the guest to be this insistent, though."
In any case.
"We will have to watch what reaction he shows."
"Yes."
It was not as though he had no worries. He wished he had had more time to invest in the research, but time had been tight and the successful results were few.
'There isn't enough for perfect historical accuracy.'
In the end, he had no choice but to settle on a modern course format.
"It is not a perfect recreation. But it should be enough to hit the mark."
"Yes."
"Judging by his reactions so far, he will not fly into a rage immediately. If he were the sort to be that fixated on formality, he would not have worn a modern suit and used the buffet."
"Yes."
"I have set a plentiful table, so the gaps should not show. Let us observe a while longer."
"Yes."
"Hearing you say so puts my mind at ease."
"Hello."
"Yes, I am fine."
He had done his best within the allotted time.
"......"
"......"
"...Ah...."
COUGH!!!
'I'm tired.'
The sensation of his innards being forcibly wrenched out through his mouth buckled Yeon-woo's legs reflexively. An instant before he crumpled to the floor, thick-jointed hands caught the counter roughly and held.
"Ah...."
A gasp like a sigh. Veins stood taut along the forearms bracing against the collapsing weight.
'Truly nothing goes right.'
Nothing in the world was ever easy. He scrunched his brow irritably and hacked out a dry cough. A tedious process, but honestly, he was used to it by now.
His surroundings, however, were not.
"--No!!!"
Coco was aghast, and the dining staff came flooding in. Some tried to catch and lift Yeon-woo; others wiped frantically at his mouth.
'This is too much attention.'
So undeserved that he wanted to sink into the earth.
Before gratitude could register, something suffocated him at the level of instinct. What reached him felt less like pure concern and more like a compulsion embedded within it.
'If I'm being honest, it's unnerving.'
He could feel worry as well, but still. More than that, it was something....
"No...!!"
"I'm fi--"
A white handkerchief clamped over his mouth. Sealing the hole that was leaking blood was technically the right move, but.
'Is it my imagination, or does it sound like they're telling me to shut up?'
It might have been concern that he should not speak in such a state, or it might have been an inability to bear seeing a precious object marred by filth. He could not tell which was true.
'Either way, the pressure is the same.'
Yeon-woo decided to simply vomit out the water filling his lungs.
"Cough, hack, urk... bleeurgh...."
"No! Hello! No! No!"
"Ugh, hoo."
And yet, in the midst of it all --
'What is this unpleasant feeling?'
He thought he could hear The Drenched One on the 23rd-floor Aqua Park raising both hands in welcome. Whether it was intuition or imagination, he was not sure, but... hmm.
No, fine. How unfortunate.
[Sixth Sense]
'The Drenched One welcomes your drowning.'
It was not his imagination. He had truly heard it.
'Where does it get off?'
Sick or not, as long as it was having a good time. Even with his body firmly held in the staff's grip, indignation surged. Once they grew a little closer, he would most certainly seize it by the collar.
'If the bug had just worked properly during the event, I wouldn't be going through any of this.'
But that was water already spilled.
Having coughed up blood for a good while, Yeon-woo wiped his mouth with the back of a bloodless hand. Shaking off the hands that had been supporting or fussing over him, he staggered to his feet.
"......"
"...Thank you."
Faces that still said nothing, only smiled.
'Something is being shared. A feeling that's hard to articulate.'
It was not simply an air of anxious fretting. It was a seething urgency to somehow conceal and erase the sight of something that should be perfect and exalted crumbling as it retched impure filth.
'What kind of emotion is that?'
He almost looked deeper, then stopped. Yeon-woo could not hide his unease.
"...Yes, I see."
"......"
"Thank you."
In any case, if this was goodwill, then goodwill it was.
'But in terms of convenience, the period before the tutorial might actually have been better.'
They had been far more businesslike before. Those who would not budge for anything beyond their duties unless the bell was rung. This, too, was a clear change from the tutorial era.
'Or it might be the effect of becoming a formal Manager.'
As Yeon-woo swallowed a weary breath and lowered his gaze, the staff finished tidying his appearance. As always, they were calm and quiet, yet the touch was somehow... compulsive.
They peeled away the bloodstained gloves and overcoat, dressed him in a fresh overcoat without a single crease, and neatly tightened the necktie over it. Meticulous and relentless in their precision.
"......"
Still, after about five years, he had grown accustomed to this as well.
'It was not this obsessive before, though.'
The grooming was completed swiftly. Having pulled on white cotton gloves and checked the fit, Yeon-woo noticed a staff member standing hesitantly with a mop and cleaning cloth in hand.
"...Ah."
He understood why. They had always been reluctant to clean up spilled blood. Because even spilled blood was a part of their superior, 'Lee Yeon-woo.'
'It must feel like their boss has split apart like a planaria and is scattered across the floor.'
But that was not the only reason they hesitated now. Yeon-woo raised a hand.
"Wait. Please do not clean it up."
The moment the words left him, the staff stepped back, and Yeon-woo gazed steadily at the floor.
"......"
"Hm?"
Coco tilted its head near the pool of blood. Yeon-woo nodded.
"Yes, it seems I made a small error while retching."
"Yes."
"It was not intentional. Please do not look so overtly pleased."
"Nope."
"How resolute."
Swallowing a sigh, he bent toward the blood.
"...You may come out."
Two eyes peeked timidly from the pool of blood.
They were smaller than Yeon-woo's palm. The little thing glanced around furtively, then slowly raised its head. A head as round as its eyes. A small, blood-colored lump.
A fragment of the Room 14 monster.
"It is alright. Can you come this way?"
"......"
"Fortunately, it seems you can move."
Judging by its only nodding, it appeared unable to speak.
'Closer to a slime?'
The small, round slime commonly seen in games. If the Room 14 entity's form were simplified to its absolute limit, this was what it would look like.
The slime dragged itself through the blood and, with a trembling body, clung to the toe of Yeon-woo's shoe. Then it laboriously crawled up onto his hand.
Yeon-woo addressed the staff.
"You may clean up the rest."
At that, the startled slime leapt from his hand back to the floor.
'What?'
The behavior was puzzling, but Yeon-woo did not try to grab it.
"......"
"......"
Splash.
The slime, submerged in the blood once more, curled in on itself.
"......?"
It had seemed to want to go, so he had let it. What did this mean?
Yeon-woo looked at the staff, but they shook their heads. They did not know, either. He looked at Coco next. The monster cat merely stared at the slime without a word.
Ah, wait.
"Coco, stop."
"No."
"Now, now."
Yeon-woo scooped up Coco, whose pupils had dilated and whose hindquarters were wiggling.
"The Room 14 friend is not your prey."
"No."
"Tsk, you may not."
Stubbornness or not, what was forbidden was forbidden.
'It's not just its appearance that resembles a cat.'
Wide eyes and a wiggling rear -- that was a cat in full pre-pounce mode. Above all, dilated pupils in a cat meant excitement.
"......"
Coco's pupils had been large in every season.
"......"
"Pardon?"
Yeon-woo held its gaze for a moment.
Whenever he met those dark eyes, Yeon-woo sometimes had to press down a certain instinct with reason. This was the NPC he had watched through a screen for all twenty-six years.
One that treated people like toys,
that lied as a matter of course,
and had always been heartless....
'—We're fri■nds, r¿ght?'
A grotesque voice seemed to brush past his ear for an instant.
"? Hello?"
"...No."
Yeon-woo added with a faint smile.
"It is nothing."
He decided to shelve that for now.
Lifting Coco onto his shoulder, he looked at the slime. The tightly curled slime cautiously blinked its eyes. It seemed to want something.
"If there is something you wish for, I will help."
"......"
"Is there anything you need?"
Then.
"......?"
The slime began to wriggle peculiarly. Yeon-woo and the staff exchanged glances, wondering what on earth it was doing.
Yeon-woo was the first to understand.
"Oh."
It was drinking the blood.
'No, not drinking exactly.'
It was storing it inside its body.
'Similar to what I did. Did it learn while inside me?'
With each gulping motion, the blood on the floor steadily diminished. The floor was clean in no time. When the movement stopped, Yeon-woo extended his hand again, and the slime cautiously climbed on.
"...?! Wait...!"
Then it scrambled up his arm in an instant and burrowed straight into his ear.
"Ugh...!"
"?! No! No! No!"
"The sensation is truly...."
It was different from pain. Yeon-woo scrunched his brow helplessly. The vivid sensation of a lump of blood squeezing through the narrow ear canal and spreading through his blood vessels to his entire body.
And gradually, his expression softened. To be precise, he made it soften.
"......"
At the strange pressure and ticklishness, he touched his ear and let out a small laugh.
"...The sensation is truly strange."
It seemed to have meant no harm.
The moment the lump of blood returned to his body, its emotions were shared vividly. The terror of being swept away by a storm mid-hibernation, and the blind relief of having returned to a safe 'home.'
"Thanks to that, the risk of collapsing from anemia has passed, so it would be best to leave things as they are for now."
"Pardon?"
"Yes."
That was what it felt like.
'I was worried it might feel trapped somewhere again, but if this is the reaction... it's best to leave things as they are for the time being.'
It seemed to have recognized Yeon-woo's interior as a safe place.
"If we communicate well, it may be of help until I master the blood-drinking technique. Whether that brings me further from human dignity or closer to it is ambiguous... but at the very least, it will be less stomach-turning."
"Yes!"
"It seems our cat teacher's mood has finally improved."
Normally it treated the creature like a parasite, yet the mention of it being useful had apparently given it some measure of patience.
"......"
Wicked cat.
'They even look similar.'
"No?"
"Well, the squishy body and round eyes in particular...."
"No?"
"Must you dislike it that much?"
It was a mystery why Coco was generous toward Monster Guests yet stingy toward the hotel's internal monsters.
It was then.
"Ah."
A hall attendant who had been guarding the door approached and bowed courteously.
"......"
"I see."
Yeon-woo straightened his appearance and nodded.
"I will be right there."
The Guest Without Taste had finished its meal.