Chapter 89 |
Rewinding time a moment.
"......"
"......"
"......?"
It was when Yeon-woo activated the 'Maintenance Function' and checked the Interface once more.
[Maintenance in progress...]
The function itself was operating properly, but.
'Why does nothing seem different?'
He tapped his lip lightly and surveyed his surroundings.
"When it was a game, the distinction was much more clear-cut."
"Yes."
"Becoming reality has changed a lot of things."
In the game, the Interface displayed an ominous blueprint. The entire hotel would unfold transparently like a 3D isometric view, with adjustable spaces in each room blinking as red boxes.
'But now....'
Yeon-woo rolled his eyes.
"...It's linked to my senses."
"Yes? Yes."
"If that's your reaction, what am I supposed to do?"
"Mm."
The blueprint of the entire hotel entered his vision. Rather than appearing transparent as in the game, it felt more like looking at a pop-up book made of paper.
"I've experienced this kind of sensation before. The cutscene when I was dragged into Room 14, or the full view of the room when I hid in the cabinet on the 14th Floor."
Now that he thought about it, those were all related to the Central Control Room.
"It must be because the 'user' part of me coexists with the 'character' part."
"Yes."
"At this level, all that suffering to obtain authorization was well worth it."
"Ye...no?"
"Your reactions have been odd for a while now. If you have a complaint, please submit it in Korean within 1,000 characters."
"Yes?"
"Yes."
The sensation of brain synapses pulsing. The reality before his eyes folded or flipped, and like wallpaper tearing away, the texture of 'reality' peeled off.
It was an experience as though the very sensory framework through which he'd been living was changing.
"The blueprint itself comes through clearly...."
There wasn't much sense of dissonance.
Rather, it was so natural that he'd miss it if he didn't concentrate. That explained why he hadn't noticed the change immediately after activating the Maintenance Function.
"It's not entirely unfamiliar, and it's quite a useful function. Being able to survey the entire hotel without checking the Interface is a major advantage."
"Yes!"
"This function would be worth integrating alongside the physical improvement research. Since I was already planning to fix the body and mind's circuitry into the hotel, adding sensory improvement should be feasible."
"......?"
The Yeon-woo before the penalty would have stopped himself, asking 'How far do you plan to push beyond human limits?' But the current him had no brakes.
Coco didn't object to this either.
"...Yes!"
After all, improving from here was a good thing!
"More than that, I'm curious about something."
As Yeon-woo walked,
the scene before his eyes changed in an instant.
As though a pop-up book were folding, or peering through a kaleidoscope....
"...I see."
"Yes?"
"Yes, this is good. It's been a while since I've felt excited."
For the first time in a long while, Yeon-woo smiled with sincerity. The emotion would scatter soon anyway, but precisely because of that, he wanted to savor the feeling while it lasted.
"So this is what it's like."
Yeon-woo was standing in the lobby without having taken the elevator.
'In Hoone, this was a natural function.'
Activating the Maintenance Function granted access to two types of vision.
One was the Interface for using the hotel's full blueprint, shop, storage, and such. The other was the General Manager character's viewpoint, which could move through the frozen space.
'The developers' consideration—check the hotel in person to see what atmosphere your decorating actually creates. Since decorating itself can only be done through the blueprint.'
Yeon-woo looked at the empty lobby.
"No one here after all."
"Yes."
When the Maintenance Function was active, all guests became invisible.
"......"
But the staff remained.
The momentary excitement sank in an instant, replaced by a complicated feeling.
"When do those people ever rest?"
"No?"
"You wicked cat."
"Hehe."
Coco, seemingly pleased that Yeon-woo was showing emotion, rolled around on his shoulder. While patting it, Yeon-woo took in the staff lined up neatly in the lobby.
And thought.
'I will overhaul this.'
The current Yeon-woo had no power and was too addled to help, but.
Someday he would absolutely provide benefits equivalent to the Four Basic Insurances, pay above minimum wage, draft employment contracts, grant annual leave, comply with statutory working hours, and guarantee break times.
"......"
"......"
After thinking it over, Coco asked.
"Yes?"
"Do you have a complaint?"
"Yes."
"I won't be hearing it."
He ignored the wicked cat. It was the very incarnation of a Black Company.
"The staff should have nothing to do during maintenance hours anyway, so I don't understand why they have to stand there like that. In the game I let it slide, but now it's starting to look like workplace harassment. What do you think?"
"No?"
"I wasn't really asking what you think. I meant you should reflect."
"No?"
"Indeed, you weren't unaware when you said that."
Yeon-woo murmured, stroking his chin.
"...Or maybe they truly had no choice...."
They were part of this hotel. They were also subjects of the Maintenance Function. Including reassignment and contract termination.
But those were things that could be done without the Maintenance Function anyway. Yeon-woo concluded it was indeed 'workplace harassment.'
"...At any rate, it's only now that the fact of being synchronized with the hotel hits home more starkly. It's remarkable that both viewpoints of the in-game Maintenance Function are contained in this one body."
"No?"
"Yes. Honestly, I haven't been particularly surprised since about three minutes ago."
He'd feel discomfort, then it would scatter. It was approaching the point of being unpleasant, yet it didn't truly get under his skin.
Yeon-woo decided he really did need to tinker with his brain.
"But given how things have turned out, there's something I need to check."
"Yes?"
"What's happened to the outside?"
He was curious.
"In the game, the hotel was the only thing in that world, so the Maintenance Function didn't matter. But this is reality. If the hotel's time has stopped...."
Yeon-woo looked through the lobby's large window, at what lay beyond.
"What happens to the world outside the hotel?"
The raindrops were frozen in midair.
***
Stopping the world's time.
Naturally, it was a thought that demanded deliberation. All the more so if it were actually possible.
Yeon-woo didn't think of himself as someone remarkable. Even after becoming this hotel's owner, that hadn't changed. He was just a researcher. There was no way someone smarter and more capable didn't exist somewhere in the world.
So.
'If an anomaly occurred in the world itself, someone who'd notice would surely emerge.'
Or so he'd thought, but....
"......"
"Hello?"
"...Yes."
The Operator's Quarters, the research lab.
"It certainly doesn't seem like it'll spread as much as I'd feared."
This was the conclusion reached after thoroughly observing and analyzing the hotel and what lay beyond its windows.
"It's been the same with most things so far. I've witnessed additional phenomena arising from trying to make in-game functions real. In other words...."
"Yes."
"Yes, this is a phenomenon confined to the hotel."
As a hypothesis, it went like this.
"In other words, we're trapped between moments of time."
The hotel wasn't leaving the domain called an 'instant.' That was Yeon-woo's judgment—synchronized with the hotel, and with an intuition that had grown abnormally keen.
"Of course, questions remain. If everything has truly stopped and we're trapped between moments, then even routine actions that consume resources, like breathing, should be under strain."
"No."
"Right—I can't figure out why that's still possible."
Cooking was even possible. Combustion—meaning fire—was possible too.
"It's excessively convenient."
"No!"
"I understand this hotel is accommodating me."
"Yes!"
"Be nice on a regular basis."
"Yes?"
Ignored.
'The most likely hypothesis for now is that the hotel is burning through its own internal resources.'
This hotel had a resource called 'Nightmare.'
'It's being extracted from the horror elements in the hotel, the Monster Guests, and even from me.'
This unidentified resource powered gas, electricity, and plumbing, so even while trapped in an instant, there was no reason it couldn't be used.
'I noticed it in the game too—this hotel has a fairly distinct sense of self....'
Yes, a sense of self.
"......"
Yeon-woo leaned back in his chair and spoke.
"...I once thought you might be the hotel itself, Coco."
He continued, feeling the round gaze upon him.
"My thinking has changed a bit since then."
"......"
"I know you're connected to the hotel and have a stake in many things, but ultimately, you seem to be a separate entity from the hotel itself."
"......"
"Are you choosing not to answer, or do you truly not know?"
"Yes."
"I see."
He nodded lightly. A little tired, but bearable.
"I'd been thinking something had changed."
Since that day on the 14th Floor when Coco accepted Yeon-woo's request and directly helped him.
"There's a lot more I don't know."
"Mm."
"Don't be too sad."
Yeon-woo smiled faintly.
"Isn't there a joy in starting fresh?"
That was, after all, the pleasure of playing a new file.
Neither the game's Coco nor the previous Coco had ever directly helped the player Yeon-woo. It had been built with a role limited to precisely that.
'But that day, when Coco intervened and helped during the confrontation with our vampire friend, the restrictions lifted and new ones took their place.'
In other words, it had relinquished many of its hotel-bound powers to stand at Yeon-woo's side.
"I'm grateful to you. And sorry at the same time. I was too frantic then to consider that such restrictions would arise."
"......"
"There must have been a reason you, despite being favorably disposed toward me, never helped before. I was too accustomed to the game to question that, and... so things ended up this way."
"......"
Coco, gazing steadily at Yeon-woo, flopped over and rolled on the desk.
"No?"
"I'm quite relieved to hear you say that."
"Hehe...."
"Thank you."
He gently stroked that squishy belly.
'...The more I touch it, the less bad it seems.'
Before the penalty, he used to knead this belly like rice cake.
Feeling a pang of wistfulness, Yeon-woo patted Coco's stomach. At this rate, Coco would probably start looking cute again before long.
"Then I'd like to run an experiment."
"Mm."
"Work's got to get done."
SQUELCH—
Yeon-woo inserted the phlebotomy device he'd prepared in advance. Into the device—larger than a standard syringe—a bewildered-looking No. 14 was drawn straight out.
Having confirmed the successful extraction, Yeon-woo scratched the area around his ear.
"...?"
"I'll be making rather a mess of your home from now on."
"......??"
No. 14 looked up at Yeon-woo with a panicked face.
Since he couldn't leave it trapped in the device, Yeon-woo opened the opening. No. 14 scrambled out but hovered around Yeon-woo.
When it tearfully tried to crawl back in through his ear, Yeon-woo stopped it.
"If you wait just a moment, I'll make your home far more comfortable."
"......??"
"No, I'm not evicting you...."
Perhaps because they'd shared a body for so long, he could understand what No. 14 wanted to say even when it was outside. The former humans were acting like a pet dog whose favorite bed had been confiscated.
Yeon-woo persuaded No. 14 with difficulty, his words growing increasingly elaborate.
"...Wasn't the world you've been living in filled with persistent discomfort? Trust me—I'll create a peaceful environment all your own, far better than before...."
Having exhausted every ounce of eloquence he had and then some, he might have said some things a cult leader would say. Regardless, let the record show the persuasion succeeded.
Coco, however, offered this opinion.
"Hello?"
"No."
Saying it would make the news—his wording had merely come out a bit strangely. There wasn't a single lie on his end.
Yeon-woo placed the slightly deflated No. 14 on top of Coco's head once again. Coco shot him a look that said 'Are you serious?' but he ignored it.
Petty retribution for the cult leader slander.
'...And I should probably give this one a name soon.'
He'd refrained, worried it would feel like naming a pet.
'But at this rate I'll really start thinking of "No. 14" as a name.'
Until now, he'd abbreviated 'the monster of Room 14' to No. 14 for convenience.
But naming those who'd suffered in Room 14 after Room 14 was, honestly, a bit... inhumane.
Bow.
"No."
Bow.
"No."
"......"
Maddening.
'Am I the only one who thinks this is serious?'
Even that feeling scattered quickly, but still.
Looking at the unconcerned lumps, Yeon-woo felt a peculiar sentiment. The feeling that everyone else was living easily while only he was taking the hard road. A touch unfair, but what could he do?
'Better a little more trouble than going astray.'
In that spirit.
"......"
Yeon-woo looked at the towering stack of books.
"...Where to even begin...."
True to a body that was nothing but problems, even choosing a starting point was a headache.
That this research would end up taking a total of 5,769 hours was something even Yeon-woo himself didn't know.
***
Water Wraith.
Spelled out, it would be 'Water Ghost,' but that was too small a word to describe The Drenched One.
Something formed from drowned souls gathering like droplets. Its essence was vast, closer to a concept than a distinct self. This hotel, run by its 'friend,' was where beings of that sort primarily gathered.
"......"
...A song spreading through the deep sea.
The reason she'd bothered to descend all the way to Sub-Level 7 was because one such 'being' had extended an invitation.
She liked this place. The air was humid, unbefitting dry land, and the sound of water came from every direction. Moreover, this place kept The Drenched One from being lonely.
Truly a tank worthy of what her 'friend' had introduced.
"......"
And the two young lambs who'd gotten swept in.
'Ah.'
The courteous singing voice that had extended the invitation came to mind.
It surely meant she should torment them. She knew. But she also didn't know. 'That one' liked things more complicated than a Water Wraith could appreciate.
'My.'
It was sad.
Lonely,
and unpleasant,
and irritation surged.
'If I'd met them outside, I'd have swallowed them in one bite.'
This was her 'friend's' home.
Her 'friend's' tank.
The Drenched One had rules to follow, and her friend grew furious at the suffering of young lambs, and above all, being manipulated by someone's scheme wasn't exactly a pleasant affair.
It was a dilemma.
"......"
What to do?
The Drenched One deliberated.
'What should I do?'
Keep watching like this?
Or at least take a taste.
Since this place was entirely water, she could see everywhere. The two offerings didn't even know where they were, too busy being swept about.
The choices laid upon her tongue were infinite.
'I don't feel like following that scheming singing voice.'
'If I tear them apart and kill them, my friend will be angry.'
'On the other hand, if I keep them alive, what sweet thing will I get in return this time?'
After deliberating for a long while, The Drenched One reached this conclusion.
'...Just one bite.'
Let me try just one bite.
'Yes.'
A method that would truly satisfy everyone.
'That much, and my friend will forgive us!'
She'd spent countless years alongside her 'friend.'
She had drowned the living and killed by drowning countless times, and yet in the end, hadn't he always turned back time to stand on The Drenched One's side?
Guarding the elevator her friend would someday descend from, the Water Wraith smiled at her own wisdom.
"......"
"...Ah,"
It was simply that those twisted, terror-stricken faces.
"Damn...."
...Were too delightful.