Chapter 122 |
My foolish younger sibling chose to live while already dead.
— It's okay, Seome.
"......"
— Just use me.
What was probably a 'husk' reassured me like that.
Back when I didn't even know my sibling was dead. That sibling's story lived on and guided me.
In the cursedly pitch-black, suffocating fog. In the 'Fox Den,' thick with the scent of that forest. Gripping me with hands that definitely carried warmth, pressing forward....
— No one knows this place better than I do right now.
You people are all the same.
Is that okay for you?
"That's, a bit."
"Are you anxious?"
"I don't know."
"Don't worry."
She looked at Yeon-woo's face.
"I'll help you."
— I'll protect you.
Don't make me laugh.
"......"
She'd already cried for days on end.
Don't live like that.
Do you have any idea how miserable the people left behind are?
You're all so selfishly, disgustingly kind.
Words she didn't mean — or perhaps words still lodged deep inside — poured out. But she was still curious. Yet she didn't want to understand. And so she asked herself again.
Why, exactly, do kind people die young?
"...Yes."
"There won't be any problems."
"Of course."
Only me.
Once again, only you.
"There won't be any problems at all."
...The hand gripping the sword hilt tightened.
***
"Rawi."
When his name was called, Rawi scratched his neck.
"So what's the issue?"
"You understood without a single word. Impressive."
"I'm good at reading the room, at least."
As the conversation wound down, Yeon-woo had called Rawi aside. An invitation to stop by the Dining for a snack, if he had the energy.
The purpose was obviously not the snack.
"In this situation, I feel like anything I eat would sit wrong, and there's no way you don't know that."
"Excellent. A very useful talent. Continue to make good use of it."
The compliments were unusually generous today. The detailed explanation of the 'General Manager' was unlike his usual self, too — to the point where Yeon-woo himself might be suspected of having a personality disorder.
"Anyway... what is it?"
"You'll need to keep a closer eye on Seome."
"......"
Rawi glanced at the closed door, then returned his gaze to Yeon-woo.
"...Something did seem off. Is sunbae-nim's condition that bad?"
Rawi had his own concerns.
"He's lucid more often than not, but honestly, I'm not sure this is right. I only grasped the situation last night, but even before that, he'd suddenly go blank."
"I believe that, too, is the influence of Lover of Dawn."
Yeon-woo continued his explanation as he walked ahead.
"Her rendezvous are addictive. No matter how much the target forgets, the fact that their judgment clouds every dawn and they permit the rendezvous — I believe that's partly her influence."
"Hmm."
"But so far, no Secret Rendezvous of the Dawn has succeeded. When that's the case, all memories besides the encounter with Lover of Dawn remain intact, and Seome's current state...."
"Is the result of that?"
"Yes."
He spoke with measured steps.
"Because Lover of Dawn makes you recall the memories of beings you loved."
"......"
Rawi wanted to ask, for a moment.
'...He's speaking from personal experience, isn't he?'
Seome had Yeon-woo protecting him. But given the hotel's situation, when Yeon-woo first started dealing with this hotel, no one could have helped him.
Whether there had been others or not.
"...So the memory of meeting Lover of Dawn is erased, but the 'memories of loved ones' that she dredged up remain, and that's what left him in that state?"
"His brain must be in turmoil. By all accounts, the brain has no reason to recall these memories this vividly, yet he finds himself thinking about 'that memory' at all hours."
Yeon-woo continued as he pressed the elevator button.
"Above all, those memories would be extremely... vivid."
"......"
"As if the person and the scene from those memories were right before his eyes."
"...Ahh."
Rawi recalled last night's Seome. Sitting on the sofa before the rain-streaked window, eyes blank as though staring at the 'deserted island' he'd spoken of.
"No wonder he'd lose his mind."
"There's a high probability of impulsive behavior."
"Impulsive behavior?"
Rawi followed up as they entered the elevator.
"What would that feel like?"
"......"
Looking at Rawi, Yeon-woo broke into a grin.
"You've never been in love, have you, Rawi?"
"Uh...."
...That caught him off guard.
'I've never seen him smile like this before.'
It felt like filling a new slot in a game character's archive.
Nothing like the thin smiles he rarely showed. His eyes curved deeply — long and vivid, exactly like a fox's smile, the way people often described it....
"......"
He looked like a different person.
"Sorry for teasing. But don't take it too hard. If you'd had a proper love at your age, that would be the surprising thing."
"Isn't that still teasing?"
"It is."
"Well, I never."
This guy was unexpectedly playful. Rawi let out a disbelieving scoff.
"The way you carry on, you seem more like a workaholic who's never had a serious relationship."
"That hit the bone dead-on, just now."
Yeon-woo accepted it readily.
"But love doesn't only mean romance."
"Given you say that, I take it you've had a deep love of your own."
"Family, at least."
"Family?"
An unexpected answer for someone with such a cold demeanor. Rawi grinned and continued.
"Must've been close. I'm jealous~ I had a massive blowout with my parents before coming to The Gaps and stormed out."
"So you ran away from home."
"That's true, but when you say it, it makes me feel incredibly pathetic."
"You misunderstand."
"Being next to someone impressive always makes you feel that way."
Rawi scratched his chin with the muzzle of his gun, then asked carefully.
"...So you haven't forgotten that?"
"Forgotten what?"
"Your family."
"I'm not certain."
Yeon-woo gave a light shrug.
"Perhaps what's left is only this much, stolen without my knowing."
"That sounds plausible."
"It was a joke. I do remember them."
"Hmm...."
For someone who said that, he'd called them 'those people.'
'That's not exactly an intimate way to refer to family, is it?'
Doesn't it feel distant?
Rawi suspected that 'stolen without my knowing, and this is what's left' was probably the accurate statement. However many years Yeon-woo had been trapped here.
"Anyway, though."
Returning to the original topic.
"What does that have to do with anything? Does knowing love change something?"
"Let me ask in reverse — what do you think love is?"
"Well...."
Rolling his eyes, Rawi answered.
"An impulse?"
"Not a wrong answer."
Yeon-woo took a paper packet that smelled of savory frying oil from a staff member and gave it a light shake.
"Would you like some?"
"What is it?"
"Fried fish."
As he handed over a piece of fish fry, Rawi made an incredulous face.
"Is it really okay to skim like this?"
"Errand boy's privilege."
Rawi took a bite of the hot fry and blinked.
"Everything in this place is delicious."
To that, Yeon-woo said nothing, only let out a small breath like a suppressed chuckle and shrugged. From his expression, it seemed like agreement. Brushing fry crumbs from his fingers, Rawi asked.
"So? What was the love lecture for?"
"People who've tasted deep love sometimes feel an addictiveness to it."
"Is that what you're getting at? Dopamine?"
"Clinging only to that isn't healthy love."
"Doesn't love inherently come with some degree of addiction?"
"Not always."
"Then?"
"Lover of Dawn is that kind of being."
Yeon-woo tossed the whole paper packet of remaining snacks to Rawi.
"So whenever you have the chance, just make sure Seome doesn't hurt himself."
"Am I eating all this alone?"
"Share with your roommate."
"That's not what I—"
Rawi gaped, holding the packet.
"......"
"Go ahead."
At the dry prompt, Rawi asked awkwardly.
"You're giving me this and dumping babysitting duty on me, aren't you?"
"Appropriate late-night snack compensation paired with appropriate task assignment — I thought that was excellent personnel management, but I suppose it doesn't work on people these days."
Yeon-woo was remarkably brazen about it.
"Does this come across as old-fashioned?"
"Shall I tell you no?"
"How unfortunate."
Rolling his eyes, Yeon-woo then readily admitted.
"Yes, I'm dumping it on you. Any complaints?"
"You don't look the type, but you really just say whatever you want. Outsourcing night shifts to a hired mercenary without overtime pay."
"The provided snack shall be considered included in your comprehensive-wage overtime compensation. Feel free to report me to the labor board — labor inspectors can't reach this far, so I'd suggest giving up."
"Are you serious right now??"
"It was a joke."
What was so amusing? Those eyes curved.
"I'm not so shameless as to put someone to work over a mere snack."
Yeon-woo, smiling as though savoring the reaction, added.
"If there's nothing else, shall we part here?"
"Hey, wait, hold on."
Rawi grabbed Yeon-woo.
"Where are you going, what are you doing?"
"There's someone I need to see."
He shook off Rawi's hand cleanly and added.
"It'll be too much for you alone, so I'll come by this evening."
"Uh...."
"Rest up in the meantime."
"No, wait—"
Yeon-woo turned away without hesitation.
"......"
Footsteps so quiet they were nearly inaudible.
"...Really just says what he wants and leaves...."
***
"......"
After hearing the story, Seome said this.
"...Isn't that the General Manager?"
"Huh? Out of nowhere?"
"The timing fits."
Seome spoke while picking apart the still-warm, crispy fries.
"What we asked about at the Dining wasn't what kind of being the 'General Manager' is."
It wasn't that.
"We asked what it meant that the 'General Manager' cherishes Yeon-woo."
"Oh."
"I keep noticing, but his deflection skills are impressive."
"Then right now...."
"Did you notice anything when Yeon-woo was explaining the 'General Manager'?"
"...Notice what...."
Crunch.
A fry crumbled in his mouth.
"Hmm, the 'General Manager' as Yeon-woo described him."
"Yeah."
"Definitely cold. Low on emotion, excessively rational, practically the embodiment of hotel-service operations. Closer to a machine or system than a living thing."
"Mm, yeah, I suppose."
"Then who gives the orders?"
"......?"
To the furrowed face, Seome said again.
"Yeon-woo said it himself: 'He absolutely internalizes any directive deemed rational.'"
A being that defines its identity solely through its role and duties. There may be coercive, violent aspects, or parts so indifferent they seem cold-blooded.
But such a 'tool' cannot think for itself.
"Of course, I don't think it's literally at the level of a tool like a sword or a gun. He said emotions weren't entirely absent, so a self must exist."
"...But, that means...."
"Someone needs to be beside the 'General Manager,' setting the direction of hotel operations. Haven't you ever thought it strange? This hotel — for a place where Dokkaebi stay, it's excessively human-friendly."
Seome tilted his head.
"Is there really a need for that?"
This hotel could have been far more vicious. Perhaps it should have been.
"Under the name of rules and etiquette, Dokkaebi behavior is restricted, and measures are taken so Human Guests aren't crushed by the Monster Guests' presence... I think someone is deliberately inputting a 'disposition' into the General Manager."
"Is that possible?"
"Beats me."
Seome peered into the still-warm paper packet.
"How Yeon-woo does it, in what way, and how he gets the General Manager to accept it as 'a rationally sound directive.'"
She couldn't fathom it.
"......"
"......"
...Probably.
***
How, and why, is this hotel being operated?