Chapter 123 |
"I twisted my own fate."
At that, The Drenched One propped her chin on her hand.
"You get more cutting by the day."
"I'd appreciate it if you took that as a sign of friendship."
"A sign, not a proof?"
"Shouldn't you be grateful for even that much?"
Yeon-woo lifted the stone pot from the tray.
"Tonight's dinner is kimchi stew."
"I want something sweet."
"Who serves kimchi stew to a Water Ghost?"
"Now that I hear it, that's not without merit."
A misstep in failing to meet global standards. Yeon-woo reflected.
"But there's no law saying a ghost can't eat a balanced meal. Instead of going out and eating innocent people, I've loaded it with the meat you like, so eat without complaint."
"If there's meat, that changes things."
Splash—!
The Drenched One, who'd been draped limply in the water, finally crawled out. Squelching wetly with every step, she made her way to the table Yeon-woo had set and sat down.
He frowned at the water soaking the floor.
"Table manners, honestly."
"Fish dry out and die."
"And kimchi stew won't kill you?"
"You're the one who brings me meals every day, so why are you picking a fight?"
"Because all you do is annoy me and the guests without contributing a thing."
"I'm innocent."
"I've seen the water all over the students' room."
"Busted...."
Slurp.
She ate with surprisingly good form.
"This is good."
"So Korean food suits your palate after all."
"Was I experimented on?"
"Maybe I'll try braised short ribs next time."
"Anything with meat is fine by me."
"If I make it for you, leave innocent people alone."
Leave the young ones with their whole futures ahead alone.
***
"Do you really think that's possible, our inspector friend?"
Inside a car rattling up a mountain road.
"The Dokkaebi, I mean."
"In theory, it is possible."
The driver, Hyeon Si-gyeong, answered Nakdo's question.
"Dokkaebi and Recognition Species are different species, but because both handle the mystical, they have difficulty consuming one another. A Dokkaebi that consumes a Recognition Species becomes contaminated, and a Recognition Species that consumes a Dokkaebi gets indigestion."
"Contamination versus indigestion — the latter sounds overwhelmingly milder~...."
But he understood.
"It's similar to how Recognition Species don't tend to clash with each other."
In truth, he didn't know much about indigenous Dokkaebi. There were exactly two in Korea, and they mimicked humans while living their own lives, not spreading disaster like ordinary Dokkaebi.
All he knew was that their kind was the original bearer of the name 'Dokkaebi.' Beings aligned with Artists and Recognition Species — possessing selves and instinctively wielding the mystical. Just somewhat less harmful.
"That said, it is not absolutely impossible. If a Dokkaebi or Recognition Species is larger, stronger, and more resolute, it can consume the other."
"Is there a reason to go that far? Both sides know full well they'll get hurt."
"It could simply be bad blood, or in the case of a Recognition Species, it may have gotten greedy because the other fit well into its 'story' or 'stage.'"
"Labyrinths do have that tendency — always striving for a more 'perfect play'...."
Shaaaa—
Autumn was approaching, yet the raindrops were heavy.
"From a foreign Recognition Species' perspective, the merits of consuming an indigenous Dokkaebi are considerable. Being able to incorporate it into one's 'play' is a given, and above all, such Dokkaebi display a fierce vitality and will that refuses to die easily even when offered, so—"
He continued.
"They are excellent in both quantity and quality, too valuable to pass up."
"Highly versatile, in other words."
"With luck, the labyrinth could become far stronger — nothing goes to waste. But no matter how slowly one dissolves and consumes, the aftereffects are severe for the Recognition Species as well."
He then added.
"Those aftereffects debilitate both entities. No matter how young a labyrinth may be, it knows it must avoid this for survival's sake. That is why most labyrinths only accept 'humans' as offerings."
"What about mages?"
Nakdo shrugged.
"Don't they more or less get offered too?"
"That falls under 'chooses not to eat' rather than 'cannot eat.'"
"Ah... so it was a matter of picky eating."
Cases of mages becoming offerings weren't hard to find, so he'd wondered. Worried he'd gotten something wrong. He was a consultant, after all — wouldn't it be embarrassing to have incorrect knowledge?
"Mm-hmm, so then?"
Nakdo scratched his head with the gun muzzle and asked.
"What's the most hopeful outcome?"
"Being human, the humanity was stripped away."
Roll.
The eyes rolled.
"Being not human, the humanity was preserved."
If it were truly an entity 'split into two,' it was theoretically possible. He'd never seen such a case, but if that place truly was connected to The Foundation, and if the gazes of countless souls were watching together....
"However, in this case, how the entity 'Lee Yeon-woo' responded to its own transformation is critical. Even if the separation of 'The Devil' and 'the test subject' was successful, it remains unknown which side's power is greater."
"Well, I got the gist."
Nakdo nodded.
"It's a war of attrition?"
That's about right.
"In a war of attrition like this, it's always harder for the Dokkaebi with remaining humanity than for the human who became a labyrinth. That very 'human-like' temperament is what actually makes a person truly... vulnerable."
"......"
"And since the two can't fully separate, either — it must be quite the predicament. With the human aspects already fused into the labyrinth, there's no way the entity that is effectively the same 'Lee Yeon-woo' could escape. And since that accursed 'hotel' must be maintained, the Dokkaebi who doesn't want to kill innocent people would surely...."
"......"
"A— ahahaha! Right, that makes sense!"
He tapped the man beside him on the shoulder and laughed.
"Oh my, you must've been having quite a time for a while now? You should've shared the show."
"......"
"But from that fellow's perspective, doesn't it make things even crueler? These damned labyrinths, instead of killing cleanly — torturing hope out of some poor young man's body and mind. Absolutely rotten~."
"......"
"Good grief...."
How intricate, isn't it?
Fate.
"A labyrinth that young, and already so ruthless."
Nakdo smiled, long and thin.
***
In the dark hours before dawn.
Leaning against the guest room door, Seome began to speak.
"In an ordinary labyrinth."
— I'm listening.
"Everything I see, hear, and encounter is fake. Simple illusions, reproductions of sensation."
— Why?
"Because it's just a story."
The youthful voice continued steadily.
"Whether it was made from actual events or from a compelling story. A labyrinth is ultimately nothing more than a grotesque reenactment of something that happened — a play."
Thunk.
The back of his head touched the door.
"But the food here was real."
That was strange.
"Normally, the phenomena and objects inside a labyrinth are illusions so precise they're indistinguishable from reality. In a way, it's obvious. The same amount of energy is just circulating within."
— Meaning there's nowhere for it to escape.
"More precisely, there isn't enough surplus for it to escape."
— Not enough surplus?
"Unless it's a labyrinth so large and deep that humans continuously flow in from the outside, no labyrinth would tear off its own flesh to deceive humans just for sport."
— That makes sense. It's not like labyrinths are stupid.
"So it's actually the reverse."
Rather than the labyrinth spending energy to feed humans.
"It creates illusions from its own flesh, making food that humans want to eat. Then the being that consumed the labyrinth's flesh becomes bound to it...."
— And ultimately gets offered?
"Usually, but."
Seome's pupils rolled, ever so slightly.
"That's what makes this hotel all the stranger."
Whispering into the air, she asked.
"Why isn't the food here fake?"
Yeon-woo's words were the truth. No matter how much they ate here, they weren't becoming bound. That meant all the food and water in this hotel were 'real.'
"There are many puzzling aspects, but for starters, the main question is where the 'resources' corresponding to this 'food' come from...."
— You're suggesting there's energy flowing in from outside this hotel?
"But for something flowing in from outside, there are no humans coming into this hotel."
Seome and Rawi had simply been swept in through terrible luck. Going by Yeon-woo's reaction and The Guest Without Taste's words, it was an extremely rare occurrence.
But a hotel of this scale couldn't be sustained on such a tiny number.
"This part is also strange — no matter how you look at it, this hotel is structured to use humans as a resource. Just look at the Dokkaebi that Yeon-woo calls 'Monster Guests.'"
They would fix their gazes on Seome and Rawi. Wondering if there might be ways to toy with humans without breaking the hotel's 'rules.'
"Everything else points the same way... the fact that the hotel was set up to let clueless Human Guests come to a place with Monster Guests — doesn't that give you the feeling?"
— It's extremely unfavorable for Human Guests.
"From the start, it was a structure designed to manipulate humans. Like any labyrinth, it was meant to snare you before you noticed, or lure people in with a dazzling exterior."
That was the structure, the system.
"You squeeze people dry that way...."
You produce 'resources' that way.
"And yet, that's not what's happening."
— That's how it looks to me too.
"Then the 'resources' must be obtained internally rather than externally, but I don't see any such element. It's just what Yeon-woo described — 'a hotel where Dokkaebi visit.'"
In other words, this hotel was self-sustaining its 'resources.' Within itself, by some means. Continuously.
"Self-sustaining...."
Seome rolled her eyes toward Rawi, who was leaning against the wall.
"What do you think?"
"I just wish you'd move away from that spot."
"This shouldn't count as a rendezvous."
"If you forget again because of this, I'm washing my hands of it~"
"You look angry."
Rawi let out a deep sigh and answered.
"I don't know, either. What I 'see' is just atmosphere. I can't read the specific structures or stories within it."
"Then even the atmosphere."
"...Before...."
He looked down at Seome, crouched on the floor.
"...You once talked about the Clock."
"I did. Said it was probably this hotel's backdrop."
"I... saw something in the garden flowers."
"What kind of thing?"
"......"
Rawi shrugged.
"Something like people."
"...Ahh...."
Seome blinked.
"Not very surprising."
"Is this normal for labyrinths?"
"Hardly."
Twirling a finger in the air, she explained.
"That Clock I mentioned — why do you think it's called a 'Clock'?"
"Well...."
"This is something the second person who saved me told me."
"The passing stranger?"
"Right."
Folding her fingers back down, Seome continued.
"Apparently, it was actually made to turn back time."
"......"
"And a lot of people got destroyed in the process."
Rawi breathed a long sigh.
"Are you saying what I saw were those 'destroyed people'?"
"Were they alive?"
"Hard to say."
"If you can't say for sure, they might be those people who 'ended up worse than dead.'"
"What a miserable hotel."
"I think so too."
Once more, Seome leaned her head against the door. Then she looked up at the ceiling, where the light wouldn't turn on. A light that should turn on if a 'person' were present....
"......"
Slowly, her head lowered.
"...But that doesn't give us the answer."
"You knew what I was about to say."
"There are several reasons, but mainly — historically, the only energy source for labyrinths has been humans."
"What if this place is the exception?"
"I considered that too."
This hotel — this labyrinth — was too strange. Excessively large, deep, and wide. It felt as if labyrinths that should have been scattered separately across the world were all layered on top of one another.
But that couldn't be the reason.
"Why do you think, 'historically,' the only energy source for labyrinths was humans?"
"Easy to lure in, and lots to extract?"
"That's not wrong, but...."
Seome closed her eyes.
"You seem to think that because this labyrinth is entangled with such a 'Clock,' the whole thing is one massive energy source. Like a billionaire with so much in the account that spending a little doesn't show."
— Fun analogy, Seome.
"My attempt to keep things light."
She then smiled faintly.
"But no. Even with as many souls and stories as you saw, self-generated energy can't produce that kind of 'real.'"
"...Why not?"
"It's a matter of energy form."
"Form?"
"For example, injecting already-clotted blood into a person's body wouldn't make for a normal transfusion."
That was the idea.
"The form of the energy itself has already changed. There may be exceptions due to cosmic-scale events, but by my understanding, 'clotted blood' cannot revert to 'fresh blood.'"
"...But the 'Clock' was said to turn back time."
"That's why I called it a cosmic-scale event."
Unfortunately, the Clock had been shattered to pieces long ago.
"If a new 'Clock' had been created, the process would have been large-scale enough to stir the entire world, so I couldn't not know. And even if this labyrinth were entangled with that 'Clock' and used its power, it doesn't add up."
"Why?"
"I keep saying — the energy form has already changed...."
Seome wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her head on her knees.
"I may have made such a grand case that the 'Clock' sounds like some omnipotent miracle, but it really isn't. In the end, it's just an object that needs 'resources' to 'operate.'"
"......"
"Why do you think so many 'destroyed people' were created when the Clock was made?"
"......"
"...Because that much 'energy' was needed to turn things back."
To put it simply.
"It all comes down to equivalent exchange."
With nothing offered, nothing is gained.
"This hotel is already a world created from the Clock's debt. What more could it possibly offer? Especially when there aren't even people crawling in right now?"
"...Uh...."
Rawi opened his mouth, then continued.
"...Could that be Yeon-woo...?"
"It could be."
"...Or it might not be?"
"Well, it'd be far too inefficient."
"Inefficient?"
"More accurately, the returns don't justify it. It'd be like kidnapping an ice-attribute mage just because you want ice. Besides, the probability that the 'Clock's' power doesn't even exist anymore is far higher."
It's been shattered for ages.
"So I thought about it."
"You said you didn't know."
"Be quiet. I'm still debating whether this is even real."
A beat late, Seome continued.
"...If Yeon-woo truly is still a 'person'...."
A living person.
"That could certainly serve as a 'resource.'"
"Yeon-woo?"
"The fact that the food we've eaten is 'real' implies the possibility of a future. In other words, only energy that genuinely exists — not illusion — can become real within a labyrinth."
"Pardon?"
"A labyrinth is already a closed narrative, a dead star. Observable, but unable to serve as additional fuel. Those countless souls you saw are in the same state and can't become that kind of 'real.'"
"Could you summarize?"
"So in the end, to create 'real,' you need something alive."
She whispered softly.
"Something that holds a future, a possibility. And if you factor in this hotel's structure on top of that...."
Slowly, Seome raised her head.
"......"
"Yeon-woo just needs to provide enough 'resources' to keep this place running."
That would do it.
"Then it doesn't matter if no 'Human Guests' come in. He said the General Manager here accepts any opinion that's rational, so there'd be no reason to refuse that kind of operation."
"...Is that possible?"
"What's stopping it? It's perfectly 'rational.'"
Seome enumerated.
"First, without external visitors, unnecessary conflicts decrease. By making volatility more predictable, maintenance costs are reduced. External visitors are variables, after all."
A 'system' like a machine wouldn't welcome variables of any kind.
"You know how Yeon-woo periodically disappears?"
"...Well, he can't be visible to us all the time...."
"But we could drop dead in the time he's out of sight."
Seome understood the sincerity behind Yeon-woo's promise to 'help.' Rawi probably did too. And yet, Yeon-woo wasn't always by their side.
Even though there should be far more reasons to stay than to leave.
"Maybe... during the time Yeon-woo is 'out of sight,' he's doing 'something' that better ensures our safety."
In reality, he was just working himself to the bone managing the hotel, but Seome and Rawi had no way of knowing that.
"That's what made me think."
"To summarize that,"
Rawi, who found Seome's logic sound, organized the content.
"Yeon-woo is substituting for the 'Human Guests' this hotel needs to sustain itself?"
More precisely, Yeon-woo was paying for 'something' that this labyrinth should have been receiving. Suffering that fit this labyrinth's purpose, or negative emotions, or perhaps something even beyond that.
If they imagined what would have happened to them had Yeon-woo not been there, they could dare to picture it.
"...But...."
Rawi's expression darkened.
"Is that even possible...?"
"There's no set depth to rock bottom."
"He didn't seem to show signs of struggling that much?"
"Some people just don't."
Feeling the absence of the voice that no longer came from beyond the door, Seome asked.
"What do you think? Plausible?"
"......"
Rawi's brow furrowed.
"...I don't know...."
***
...So this was,
"......"
In the end.
Amazingly.
All of it.
"......?"
Something that happened because Yeon-woo hadn't explained 'Nightmares.'
"This is sudden, but I'm feeling a bit strange."
"Then make me one more peach tart."
"Death by starvation instead of drowning...."
[Sixth Sense]
'Someone is talking about you.'
"Too many candidates come to mind."
"Who are you talking to, friend?"
"Please do not insert yourself into my conversation with myself."
And so, Yeon-woo's narrative grew yet another layer of acrobatic.