Chapter 92

Our Hotel Is Open for Business as Usual

"Do you require assistance?"

Stiff formality. A courteous but dry voice.

"......"

Rawi's gaze trembled as he studied the man.

His eyes, devoid of any hint of warmth, were deep yet narrowly and sharply tapered. Jet-black hair and jet-black irises. His skin was pale, and despite this being such a sinister labyrinth, all he wore over his body was a black coat.

It was also peculiar that he alone appeared so dry even amid this mist.

"......"

The man glanced at the empty air for a moment, then added with a shallow sigh.

"It seems you haven't grasped the situation yet. There isn't much time, so I'll ask again."

"Oh, uh, um."

"Do you require assistance?"

Snapping to his senses belatedly, Rawi went rigid.

He'd been sitting pressed flat against the wall with nowhere left to retreat, which made for a clumsy reaction. A completely unexpected situation and individual. Rawi turned to look at Seome.

"......"

But Seome, too, was in no position to offer his junior any advice.

'Who is he?'

Perhaps it was the deep shadows etched beneath his eyes. At first glance, the stranger simply looked like a sharp-featured young man. His impression was dry and edged, separate from the fact that he was broad-framed and tall.

But that composure—it caught the eye.

'He looks like his strength's been drained, but that's not it.'

He possessed the quiet gravity unique to someone who had cultivated discipline over a long period.

In truth, it was the result of his naturally straight posture combined with the game character's enhancements and the Physical Improvement Research—but of course, Seome had no way of knowing that. All he could do was tense at the appearance of an unidentified expert.

"......"

...And it was also true that this man had just saved them.

'...Whether it was a whim or a joke, I can't tell his exact intent, but even after making eye contact with us, he told an obvious lie and dismissed those two. Saying there was no one here.'

Seome rose hesitantly from his spot.

The situation called for hiding from the Girl in the Raincoat, but recalling the keening those others had unleashed, now was not the time for such considerations.

'Those staff members wanted to kill us, but this person—who appears to outrank them—overruled it. But why would a superior and subordinates disagree in a labyrinth like this...?'

After a moment's deliberation, Seome cautiously spoke.

"May I ask who you are?"

As politely as possible. With proper courtesy, not a shred of rudeness.

"We are mercenaries employed by the Haeyeong Intermediary. We were swept here from Baby's Breath Cathedral while carrying out a 2-Star difficulty commission—it was not our intention."

"......"

"It has been two days since we lost our bearings. Just before, we discovered an elevator with an appearance inconsistent with this place, but we were unable to board it due to an attack by the girl in the raincoat standing guard before it... a Dokkaebi, presumably."

Having laid out their situation, Seome paused to steady his breathing, then continued.

"You asked whether we needed help."

"Yes, I did."

"We do."

This was a considerable gamble on Seome's part.

'I can't determine his identity.'

There were too many possibilities.

So Seome chose to offer the answer that best suited the person before him. It was because of the stranger's striking peculiarity. He was nothing like those two staff members, who had clearly been inhuman.

'He does possess the characteristics of an Artist—every cell in my body is revering him.'

Mages are innately drawn to Artists, compelled to devote themselves. And the greater the Artist's vessel, the closer this devotion approaches reverence. That was a mage's instinct when facing an Artist.

'He asked us outright whether we needed help.'

And he had done exactly that.

'The implication is that he's in a position to help us, independent of this labyrinth's nature—yet for someone like that, his equipment is unremarkable. Either his abilities or his rank let him exist in this labyrinth without special gear, or....'

Or.

"......"

"So...."

Or.

"......"

"......"

Shaking off an unpleasant memory, Seome continued his train of thought.

'I read him as an Artist, but he could actually be a Dokkaebi wearing an Artist's skin.'

Even a mage couldn't distinguish that far.

Dokkaebi skilled in mimicry were not uncommon. But if the other party had come wearing a human mask, then he had to be treated as human.

'Even if this is a Dokkaebi's trick, now's the time to play along.'

He had a junior to look after, after all.

"...Would you help us?"

Despite all the hesitation, the answer came without delay, delivered flatly.

"Let's do that."

"Oh."

"However, until we leave this zone, you'll need to listen to what I say carefully."

"Oh, yes, of course. We'll do that."

Even as he exhaled in relief, Seome thought:

'He might truly not be human.'

The other party had specifically sought to hear their 'answer.'

'That's typically how a being operating under some kind of constraint engineers a situation to circumvent its rules.'

Had he known that a single answer had cast doubt on his identity, Lee Yeon-woo would have been rather exasperated. In a world where you could get your nose sliced off with your eyes wide open, even kindness required clear mutual consent.

Of course, it wasn't as though Seome had forgotten that possibility.

'He might have simply needed confirmation.'

That was, in fact, the correct answer—but Seome withheld judgment. There were far too few clues to determine the stranger's identity right now, so the deferral was only natural for him.

'I can't even understand why he helped us in the first place.'

Over Seome's labored deliberation, a cold, emotionless voice dropped.

"Lee Yeon-woo."

"Ah...."

Lee Yeon-woo. Three syllables, plain and bare—no title, no affiliation.

'A Surface person's name.'

Presumably, even 'Rawi'—almost certainly a pseudonym—had a real name of about three syllables.

"We are...."

"It would be best to use some form of address."

"Then, um, Mr. Lee Yeon-woo?"

"Call me whatever suits you."

"In that case, Mr. Lee Yeon-woo...."

They had exchanged names, but he did not extend a hand as if to shake. Hands clasped behind his back, a controlled distance maintained. Seome, momentarily stiff, had to answer with an awkward bow.

"S-Seome."

"I'm Rawi~"

From behind Seome, Rawi waved his hand breezily. The shrewd junior, seeing that Seome had given his name, had apparently judged it safe enough to follow suit.

It must have been the right choice, as 'Lee Yeon-woo' dipped his head in a slight nod.

"First, a piece of advice."

"Yes?"

"Wherever that elevator leads, it won't be pleasant enough to risk your lives reaching."

"Uh...."

"I'd recommend finding another way out."

A faint curve hung at the corner of his mouth—ambiguous between mockery and consideration.

"Do you agree?"

That dry question split the damp air.

***

Lee Yeon-woo believed he needed to maintain a businesslike distance with them. Clumsy familiarity or a sense of obligation would be poison threatening their survival, so he must not cross the line.

But at the same time, that was a crack. The aftereffects of eight months of physical coding and the emotional penalty from The Guest Without Taste. The neural network frayed by these constantly overloaded, clouding his mind.

In the end, this deliberate distancing and the involuntary Status Ailments collided, and—

"—Do you agree?"

—his filter had broken down entirely.

"......?"

'Their faces turned even paler.'

[...No....]

'Then again, a stranger met in a situation like this would be frightening.'

"......"

'I should guide them outside before this gets any more awkward....'

Coco used Feign Ignorance!

[...Yes!]

It was super effective!

***

He must not send these two up to the hotel.

'If they go up, they'll walk into a swarm of sadists waving blades.'

[Eee.]

'Surely you don't want to watch those little lumps of flesh get minced.'

[Eeee.]

'A shame, then.'

The cleanest method was to locate the 'unknown entrance' somewhere in this wretched Hunting Grounds and throw them back outside through it.

'Kids who should be under protection no matter where you put them—carrying weapons and reeking of blood.'

It was a worldview beyond any common sense he knew, but he had no intention of exhausting himself by playing the kindly adult and getting needlessly entangled. What good could come of being around Lee Yeon-woo 'in this state'?

'I'll draw the line at being a disposable guide—used and then discarded.'

[Ingrate.]

'That'll be safer for me, too.'

[Faithless wretch.]

"......"

How did it even know a four-character idiom like 'forgetting kindness, betraying righteousness'?

'...Well, anyway.'

Setting aside Coco's killing intent toward the uninvited guests for the moment. Covering his jaw, Lee Yeon-woo rolled his dry eyes, then slowly traced the blood-scented edge of his lips before speaking.

"The person in the raincoat you just encountered."

His synapses tangled, and what slipped out was casual speech barely disguised as formality.

"Was she carrying a blade?"

Seome nodded awkwardly.

"She... was."

"Drenched from head to toe."

"Yes, at a glance...."

"As expected. It's The Drenched One."

"The Drenched One...?"

"A Water Wraith—an amalgamation of the vengeful spirits of the drowned."

Explaining in elaborate detail would only tire his jaw.

"How long has it been since your last encounter?"

"At most, not even ten minutes...."

"Then she won't come charging up right away. Let's move."

Lee Yeon-woo uncrossed his arms and gestured with a tilt of his head.

"We'll avoid the shoreline and hide among the derelict buildings. We need to sever our trail before she tracks our scent and pinpoints our location."

"What? But the one that was chasing us just a moment ago...."

Even to Rawi's startled question, Lee Yeon-woo did not slow his step.

"Her hunting has a sort of cooldown. She chases, stops, and searches repeatedly—until her prey tires or slips up. Right now, we're in that 'search window.'"

"A search window? What does that even—"

"If we leave the zone during this gap, we should be able to shake the pursuit, at least temporarily."

"But...!"

Seome asked, unconvinced.

"For a Dokkaebi with aggressive tendencies, isn't that an awfully inefficient hunting method?"

An overtly suspicious and guarded reaction. Befitting someone called a mercenary, he had pinpointed the contradiction between the blind killing intent and the regular cooldowns.

Lee Yeon-woo shifted his head slightly mid-stride and glanced back at Seome. In those dry eyes, for just an instant, an exhausted smirk flickered.

"Good thing you're quick on the uptake."

"Ah...."

"It's not hunting—it's play. So inefficiency can't be helped."

In a voice laced with languid fatigue, Lee Yeon-woo added.

"If that's the rule."

Lee Yeon-woo gave a casual glance.

"You'll remember what I said. That you'll need to listen carefully until we leave this zone. Isn't that right?"

"...Yes, you did say that."

"I assure you—it will serve your survival to take that to heart."

"......"

At that, Seome bit his lip amid the confusion.

'He's saying there are rules.'

That explained why the ferocious water ghost hunted its prey in such a careless manner. If something was forcing it to operate that way, then....

Seome ventured cautiously.

"Is this... a Game-Type Labyrinth?"

"......"

At Seome's cautious question, Lee Yeon-woo's step faltered.

'A game.'

This hotel's essence was, in fact, a game.

The thought drew a scoff out of him. Why that was, even he couldn't quite understand. As expected, there was no explanation beyond his threshold for 'amusement' having dropped.

'Is smiling at a time like this still strange?'

But....

"An interesting thought."

He meant it.

"In some respects, you could say so. But don't put blind faith in a rule or two you've uncovered. It's an aging system—you never know when a glitch might spawn a variable."

"...An aging system...."

"I recommend adapting to the situation as it comes."

"...Thank you for the advice."

Seome answered stiffly.

'It's hard to read what he's thinking.'

It felt like he'd heard an amusing joke, and yet there was also a sense of resignation somewhere. That demeanor, as though he saw through the entire truth of this labyrinth.... Seome's thoughts tangled.

'So is this being called Lee Yeon-woo a guide of this place? Or its master?'

Behind Seome's calculations, Rawi—who had been surveying the situation—cut in with good-natured boldness.

"Would it be alright to call you sunbae-nim?"

"......"

Seome briefly debated whether to tell him to be quiet, but ultimately let Rawi be. Even if the other party truly wasn't human, he wouldn't dislike someone who played along to his tune.

Sure enough, the stranger answered readily.

"Call me whatever's comfortable."

"Yes, Yeon-woo sunbae-nim."

"And this is a personal question, but...."

Lee Yeon-woo suddenly stopped and turned back to the two of them.

"How old are you?"

Seome flinched in alarm, but Rawi grinned and beat him to it.

"Ah, I turned nineteen this year. And our tiny sunbae-nim here is sixteen!"

"I see."

Lee Yeon-woo swallowed a hollow laugh inwardly.

'Sixteen and nineteen—the world's gone mad.'

Kids who should still be wearing school uniforms were rolling around this blood-reeking Hunting Ground with blades and guns in hand. A worldview utterly divorced from any sensible standard he knew.

The revulsion that any adult should rightly feel surged upward, but as always, Lee Yeon-woo consciously suppressed it. His fatigue-laden gaze swept over the two in turn.

'Maybe it's a blessing my emotions have been pared away....'

A sudden swell of absurdity. Beyond his retrofitted Emotional Continuity, discontent about it jutted up uninvited. Those little lumps of flesh, brandishing weapons.

And yet it wasn't enough to turn his stomach.

"......"

A stray thought surfaced, and Lee Yeon-woo let it fall in a dry voice.

"So."

"Yes?"

"How do I come across?"

An unfiltered gaze, bleeding with doubt about his own humanity and a malfunctioning mental state. He regarded the two with those quiet, black eyes and asked in a low murmur.

"In your eyes—how old do I look?"

"......"

...At the sight of Rawi frozen stiff, Seome dragged a hand down his face.

He might truly not be human after all.