Chapter 114 |
Blood contains five things.
Life, memory, emotion, will, and soul. The closer to the soul, the deeper the knowledge. And the reason he brought this up now, seated in the Central Control Room, was.
Yeon-woo projected the Interface into the air.
"......"
"Memory."
"Yes, that's right."
He agreed with Coco's short remark.
"My 'memory' is also a part of me, and therefore reading the memories of a subject that possesses my 'blood'... is not a particularly difficult thing."
Yeon-woo spoke while watching countless streams of data flow past.
"Correct."
"It's fortunate that the exchange with her didn't end as a one-directional drain."
"Exchange. Promise."
"In the end, my blood is in itself a colony possessing its own ego and senses...."
Even while watching the cascade of sentences, Yeon-woo continued calmly.
"I should be able to run a shallow scan."
"Correct!"
"The Monster Guests who were once simple clusters of concepts inside the game — I should be able to obtain crucial clues as to what kind of stories they carry now."
"Clues. Framework."
"I'll need to update the manual."
His calm gaze turned toward the Archive on the monitor.
[Archive]
[Monster Guest]
[Name]
[Lover of Dawn]
***
"And then?"
Rawi flopped down into the seat next to Seome.
"Do that and you'll get stabbed."
"As long as you don't suddenly switch to a reverse grip, I won't get stabbed~"
"Haah...."
Seome sighed, fiddled with the flat of the blade, and answered.
"...Maybe because they had such grandiose aims, even while researching the Clock fragments, they apparently did all sorts of things. Put simply, they had a lot of irons in the fire."
"A lot of irons in the fire means?"
"There were various projects, and they'd set up many facilities. You know, the kind of places where large numbers of unspecified people come and go."
"I can't picture it at all. Like a park?"
"There were hospitals, schools, theaters, department stores...."
"Ahh."
Rawi said, as if it clicked.
"And among them was a hotel?"
"That's right."
"Not an ordinary hotel, I'd assume?"
"No."
"Even so."
He continued, looking at the slightly dull blade.
"It's not certain, is it?"
"Of course, I can't say for sure that this place is one of them."
"Then?"
"In your eyes."
Seome looked at the junior seated beside him, the one with the slightly upturned eyes.
"How does this hotel strike you?"
"......"
Rawi answered a beat late.
"...It's a hotel where monsters come and go."
"And."
"The guests who visit here look extremely comfortable."
"As expected, an Artist's perspective is different. When I looked, I just thought none of them were sane."
To that, Rawi shrugged.
"Like a devil feeling comfortable in hell?"
"That hits home."
Yes, it was unsettling.
This hotel itself.
"Yeon-woo showed us the rooftop once, remember? He showed it just the one time and told us to avoid that area if possible. When you were entranced by the flowers."
"I'd never seen flowers like those."
"I'm not criticizing. What I'm saying is, he said something to me at the time."
"What did he say?"
"He said there are many times when death feels like a luxury."
— Death feels like a luxury quite often.
— That was a slip of the tongue.
— No one's ever died here.
"...And, regarding the power of the Clock, there's a story."
Seome continued in his characteristic quiet tone.
"That it could bring the dead back to life."
"Resurrection, you mean?"
"If something's called a world-class object, resurrection's the kind of story you'd expect to come up at least once. So I don't know if it truly has that power. Resurrection is an ability many people dream of."
"But if it were real, 'world-class object' wouldn't begin to cover it...."
"That's why the thought occurred to me. That there might be a connection."
He sheathed the blade.
"Considering that a hotel-shaped labyrinth frequented by Dokkaebi hasn't been discovered until now, the probability that it was newly created within the past five years or so... isn't zero."
"You won't say it's high?"
"When a labyrinth decides to hide, it can stay hidden for a century without breaking a sweat."
Seome shrugged.
"But with an ultra-large labyrinth of this scale, hiding may have been difficult. Around five years ago, when The Foundation was purged worldwide, labyrinths that had been concealed here and there were exposed as well."
Naturally, he'd heard that quite a few organizations were destroyed or fell apart in the process.
"Above all, a labyrinth of this size and depth couldn't have been created by just any incident."
The surface floors were one thing, but the underground alone went dozens of stories deep.
"Something of this magnitude should have been at least a world-class event."
"Even if it was a world-class event, I've never heard of it...."
"That's precisely what makes it plausible. Obviously, when such operations were carried out, they made sure outsiders didn't find out. People without prior knowledge probably just think some big corporation went bankrupt."
"Wouldn't a major corporate bankruptcy make the news?"
"The Foundation wasn't a stupid organization. They didn't operate openly under the name 'The Foundation' on the outside — they were divided into companies under multiple names."
"Ah, then it's understandable that people wouldn't know."
Rawi nodded.
"If a government is determined to keep something hidden, people won't know."
"I've noticed this before, but you carry a lot of distrust toward government officials."
"At this level, I'd say it counts as a kind of faith, wouldn't you?"
"Fair point. Then maybe 'aversion' is more accurate than 'distrust'...."
But he didn't press further. He didn't want to prod a young Artist's sensitivities. Above all, people in The Gaps who reacted this way to government were common enough.
"Anyway, doesn't it seem plausible?"
If there were only one suspicious point, perhaps not.
"The scale, the timing, the background — they all overlap with the events of that period. And it's not as though there aren't other labyrinths based on the Clock or The Foundation."
"Oh, there are?"
"An event of that magnitude, so of course. Whenever a world-class event occurs, labyrinths always sprout up like this. Those are the busy seasons for the Vigilante Corps."
"The Vigilante Corps."
"Not everyone in The Gaps is a troublemaker. To put it simply, there are also, um... hero-type organizations."
"On the outside, companies get insanely busy at year-end. It must feel kind of like that. When a world-class event happens."
"That's about right."
"But there's something strange about that, too."
Rawi looked at Seome's blade resting in its scabbard, then at Seome.
"From what you've described, they absolutely don't sound like a good organization."
"Would it help if I said they turned more people into something worse than dead than they actually killed?"
"For a bunch of world-class sons of bitches to have gathered into one organization, and Yeon-woo was part of it — I can't wrap my head around it."
"......"
Instead of answering, Seome ran his stiff fingertips along the surface of his dull blade. It was a defensive motion, as though steadying his breath before uttering the name of a curse, or as though guarding against unseen wraiths.
"...Young Artists, you know."
A talent who plainly bore a three-character name and had awakened as an Artist despite their young age.
"Makes good prey."
Seome looked at Rawi.
"That's what worried me about you."
"...That I'm young?"
"......"
Seome blinked, then answered.
"If it's really true that 'Room 4' reflected Yeon-woo's inner self, he didn't intend it. Either that, or he's putting on quite the act for us."
"Do you think he's deceiving us?"
"What did it look like to you?"
"It didn't look that way. There's a slightly dry quality to him, but fundamentally, he's always been honest with us. Above all...."
Rawi rolled his eyes.
"He didn't look like someone with blood on his hands, either."
He walked around caked in his own blood more than anyone else's. Even saying this after the fact, a Dokkaebi like that didn't seem the type to pretend to be kind and courteous.
"Isn't the image closer to those 'Vigilante Corps' you mentioned, sunbae-nim?"
"I'd considered that angle too."
"And?"
"If so, wouldn't it be even more terrible? It would make for a truly awful hypothesis about Yeon-woo...."
"Oh, is that so?"
"Those kinds of 'Vigilante Corps' truly despise The Foundation."
Seome recalled his Hero, who had been alive yet dead.
"If someone who hated a group enough to give everything was then offered to a labyrinth based on that very group... that's on a completely different level from being stuck at a job that didn't suit you and getting swept up in things."
Rawi chewed on those words and spoke a beat late.
"A job that didn't suit his disposition."
"Yeah."
"But if I put together what you've said and what Yeon-woo told us...."
"Being a test subject is a job in its own way."
"The Gaps really is a certifiably insane dystopia."
"No, The Gaps isn't all like that...."
Even here, when someone mentioned unethical experiments, the reaction was at least an "ugh." Especially in the past five years, when things had been in an uproar because of The Foundation and had barely calmed down. The Sensitivity Bureau had even cracked down once.
"That's what I was saying."
"About what?"
"Being both a researcher and a test subject."
"You said it wasn't normal. I remember."
At Rawi's words, Seome nodded.
"Just volunteering as a test subject at a Gaps research facility is unusual enough. But beyond that, if it was truly at The Foundation."
"...Then?"
"I think I know why Yeon-woo was offered to this labyrinth. He said it himself — that he took full responsibility for safety testing and stepped up proactively."
The Foundation had done a great many terrible things.
"Within that, one thing is certain about what Yeon-woo was trying to do."
"So."
Rawi continued.
"He wanted to make it hurt as little as possible."
Not himself, but the other people around him.
"Because he was the only person with a functioning moral compass in that kind of organization, he got stuck."
"......"
"If he didn't do it, then the people in the lab would...."
"...Oh."
Rawi murmured with an expressionless face.
"I'm not in a particularly pleasant mood right now."
"Would it be strange if you were?"
"In The Gaps, I'm starting to wonder if being strange is normal."
"Sometimes it is."
"No wonder he barely flinches no matter how someone gets hurt."
But he roughly understood what the situation must have been.
"Yeon-woo said it himself: 'An obedient, competent worker is something any organization wants to wring dry down to the marrow.' To be talked about that way, he must have been, to some degree, um, what's the word."
"Favored, you think?"
Seome understood what Rawi was trying to say.
"Otherwise he couldn't have done both the work of a researcher and a test subject simultaneously. Whether he started as a researcher or a test subject."
"What surprised me was that this supposedly infamous organization tolerated that level of defiance. Yeon-woo must have really been capable — because he's an Artist, maybe."
"He himself acted as though it were only natural that they'd place that much value on him within the organization."
"That's not a great thing to hear, either~."
If this hypothesis were true. Yeon-woo had first gotten caught up in The Foundation, then gotten caught up a second time after becoming a Dokkaebi.
"But this means."
Rawi crossed his arms and leaned back into the sofa.
"He's just a victim from start to finish, isn't he?"
"Probably."
Seome shrugged.
"Whether or not he remembers what happened back then is uncertain to begin with."
"But wouldn't he have some memory, since he was able to talk about being a researcher?"
"But his reaction was so detached that I can't be sure. His own words implied 'I don't remember everything.' And he hasn't made any attempts to leave this labyrinth, either."
"Ah, true. I'm not sure about that part myself."
So, in the end.
"He's a person with truly abysmal luck."
"Yeah."
Seome slowly hugged the sword that was as tall as he was, and murmured.
"He was just unbearably unlucky...."
As with all things in the world, he'd merely been swept up in an unreasonable disaster.
— No uninvolved person was hurt or injured by my research.
"......"
— I took full responsibility.
Within that place, Yeon-woo had apparently not been an 'uninvolved person.'
***
Ding-dong—
The sound of a doorbell.
"......"
Ding-dong—
It rang repeatedly.
Not quite at regular intervals, either.
"......"
In the dark hours before dawn, Seome pressed an eye to the Peephole.
The hallway lights were dimmed, making things slightly dark. Through the narrow lens, the hotel sank into a deep sea-blue. It was long past sundown. It resembled that hour when the sun deliberates whether to rise again.
In the blue of dawn that seeped through the floor-to-ceiling window filling one side of the hotel corridor, you were.
Reflected.
"......"
— Seome.
"......"
— It's Seosang. Your little sibling Seosang is here.
"......"
— Open the door.
It's you.
Eyes a warm brown, like wood.
Soft hair.
A smiling mouth.
It's you.
— It's okay.
"...Yeah."
— Let's run away together.
"Let's run."
— Open that door.
"Okay."
Click.
Undoing the latch.
"I'll protect you."
The door opened.
Just as it had been done every dawn that had passed.
"The way you once did for me."
"Yeah."
"This time, I'll."
"Yeah, Seome."
"This time, I'll...."
"My sister."
"I'll protect you."
Wide, so wide.
"I love you."
My little sibling.
***
"I believe I told you not to open the door if your eyes met."
Yeon-woo, standing with his hand covering Seome's eyes, blocked the woman in white nightclothes.
"Adults often forget someone's sincere advice."
"Ah...."
"I understand. The world narrows as you age."
"My sister, go."
"Dear guest."
Yeon-woo smiled with his eyes curved and asked the Lover of Dawn.
"Was the past day a happy one?"
"......"
She did not answer.
With a face that was neither a laugh nor tears, neither alive nor dead.
She merely gazed at the General Manager.
"......"
"......"
***
"Lover of Dawn is, as you know, an Erosion-Type Monster Guest that parasitizes the happy memories of Human Guests."
Yeon-woo explained, looking straight ahead.
"In the General Manager's eyes, she appears as a woman with white hair in a white nightgown. She's a bit thin, walks barefoot, and her hair is slightly disheveled but beautiful."
His tone was businesslike.
"However, once she identifies a Human Guest who is 'in love,' she marks them as her target. Whether it's a love they can no longer meet, or a love still ongoing, it doesn't matter."
"Yes."
"As Coco says, the more devoted to this love the Human Guest is, the greater the danger when they become Lover of Dawn's target. In the worst-case scenario, they become her disciple and transform into a monster."
However.
"That said, in most cases she isn't difficult to manage. She doesn't bear hatred toward Human Guests like The Drenched One, nor does she fixate on blood like The Guest Without Taste."
Yeon-woo spoke while rolling his eyes sideways, as if checking his own thoughts.
"But 'not difficult' applies only to the Lover of Dawn as she existed in the game, or when this hotel's rules are functioning normally. If she strays outside those rules, the probability of unpredictable incidents rises considerably."
After that light warning, he continued.
"Lover of Dawn, as her name suggests, only appears at dawn. She goes to the guest room door of the targeted Human Guest, rings the doorbell, and lures them out by taking the form of the person's remembered lover."
"Hello!"
"Yes, caution is needed. Her imitation is remarkably skilled. Even if the target's beloved is already dead, her painstakingly crafted mimicry will, with high probability, get them to open the door."
"Open the door."
"At times, she can perfectly replicate the voice of the person the target trusts most through the room's extension phone. Remember that Lover of Dawn is a Monster Guest with an uncanny affinity for the hotel's tricks."
Resting his chin on his hand, he continued.
"However, when Lover of Dawn overlaps with 'And Then There Were None,' most guests lose their judgment the moment they hear that voice, no matter how hard they try to resist with reason. This is not simply a matter of being fooled because the voice is identical."
He then added,
"When it was a game, I regarded it as a simple 'status ailment,' but after a shallow scan... her bewitching technique is built on a framework of Black Magic."
"Warning. Warning."
"Whether reality was reflected into the game or the game into reality, the fact that you cannot easily break free upon hearing the voice is proof of this."
Those who are bewitched walk willingly into mortal danger.
"Just as when Director Lee Seon-hae's party came to the hotel...."
"Coco. Guarantee."
"What do you intend to accomplish by guaranteeing your own dangerousness?"
Well, in any case.
"Once the target is bewitched, Lover of Dawn wanders the hotel with them. This is called 'the Secret Rendezvous of the Dawn.' If this isn't disrupted before sunrise, the targeted guest forgets the corresponding memory."
"No?"
"Do you perhaps think, as Coco does, that this is a trivial penalty?"
Yeon-woo looked straight ahead again.
"People are creatures that depend on emotion and memory, and with slight exaggeration, without those things, they become beings of no meaning whatsoever. The game is one thing, but now that it's become reality, the final product that Lover of Dawn creates is harmful to people."
The reason was clear.
"The Secret Rendezvous of the Dawn doesn't end after one occurrence. Even if one rendezvous concludes and the target forgets their lover, that isn't the only form of 'love.' Friends, family, pets...."
She devours every memory the target loves.
"When that many memories are lost, can the target still be considered the same person they were before?"
"No!"
"I would expect that to be difficult as well."
"Yes!"
"To summarize, if left unchecked, the targeted Human Guest develops amnesia."
And that wasn't all.
"They can even become like drug addicts. Since I haven't yet seen this outcome in reality, I can't be certain, but in the game, guests who checked out after being afflicted by Lover of Dawn would wander in search of a 'lover' they couldn't even remember, exhibiting behavior bordering on mental incompetence."
What this revealed was that the target became easily addicted to encounters with Lover of Dawn. In fact, the frequency at which they were deceived by her summoning process for the rendezvous also increased progressively.
"Now that this has become reality, the possibility of it manifesting in a more harmful form than in the game cannot be ignored."
"Yes!"
"You seem too happy about this...."
Yeon-woo pressed down on Coco's head in gentle reproach and continued.
"Therefore, disrupt the Secret Rendezvous of the Dawn until either Lover of Dawn or the target checks out. Patrol the hotel around the clock, and focus especially on morning shifts."
Yeon-woo laced his fingers together.
"However, this 'disruption' will not be easy. If my memory is correct, disrupting the rendezvous will cause the General Manager to lose the memory of that incident as a baseline effect."
"Yes."
"Now that this is reality, additional memories may be lost as well. But should that happen, please do not panic, and simply carry out your duties faithfully according to the hotel's manual."
"Hehe."
"It won't be difficult. Fortunately, we've already unlocked the Central Control Room."
He tapped the back of his interlaced hand with his fingers.
"First, before sunset, memorize the target's condition and location."
"Second, patrol the hotel in person and confirm whether Lover of Dawn is approaching the target."
"Third, if a rendezvous is underway, make the following statement to Lover of Dawn."
『Was the past day a happy one?』
"...After selecting this dialogue option, the target will return to their guest room and Lover of Dawn will return to hers. However, to obtain this option, there is a task that must absolutely be completed."
Yeon-woo unlaced his fingers and lightly spread his hands to indicate 'this place.'
"Lastly, visit the Central Control Room between 21:00 and 24:00 each day to review the CCTV footage."
"Yes!"
"Unlike in the game, it's uncertain whether this process will allow you to recall the memories lost by disrupting the Secret Rendezvous. But through this, you will gain the authority to disrupt a rendezvous."
"Authority!"
"Without this process, even if you 'happen upon' their rendezvous, you will lack the authority to interfere and be unable to take any action."
Clasping his hands again, he continued.
"If you still remember the situation after intervening in a rendezvous, please come to the Central Control Room. And record what you saw and heard here."
"......"
"Just as you are now watching this recording."
The recording was nearing its end.
"...This is an additional recommendation...."
"......"
"If you judge the flow of events to be dangerous, it might be wise to create a noticeable anomaly. Something like a decision or action that the usual me would never make."
"......"
"Then, I leave it in your hands."
It was the first and last record Yeon-woo had left for 'the General Manager.'
***
Like a broken ankle.
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