Chapter 153 |
> [SYSTEM] You have entered the 22nd-floor Sky Lounge & Dining.
The moment the elevator doors opened, warm golden light poured down.
Do-heon, who had reflexively narrowed his eyes, looked up. An elegant, stately chandelier decorated the ceiling and lit the interior.
'The carpet's thick, too....'
Thick enough to swallow footsteps.
"......"
"Goodness, weather's still a mess."
"Yeah."
Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, wind and rain still lashed as if to devour the world, and the deep navy sky churned like a typhoon was imminent.
"Hell outside, different world in here."
"Though 'here' probably isn't heaven either."
"Might only not be heaven for us. The other guests seem...."
Do-heon glanced at the scattered figures seated throughout the Dining.
"...Like they're having a great time."
"Sure are~ Money smell everywhere."
Pale-faced staff approached like ghosts and guided the party to a round table by the window. Every chair was arranged to face the view.
The General Manager, who had escorted Hyeon Si-gyeong to his seat, spoke.
"All ingredients here are safe for human consumption."
"Now there's a line you'd never hear at an ordinary hotel."
"I have personally verified them, so please enjoy with confidence."
Seung-jae asked.
"We're not going to get Offered by eating, right, Manager?"
"That practice is not endorsed by our hotel, so you needn't worry."
Having said that, the General Manager stepped back from the table and clasped his hands behind him.
"Mealtimes should be enjoyable, wouldn't you agree?"
> [SYSTEM] A course meal is being served.
> [Saffron risotto with grilled prawns], [herb-crusted lamb rack with cherry sauce], and [warm vanilla custard] fill the table.
"What? Are you serious?"
"More elaborate than I expected."
"Who makes food look this pretty...."
Plating befitting a high-end restaurant.
"The unspoken survival rule is that you shouldn't carelessly eat labyrinth food."
He glanced at the General Manager and grinned.
"I'll trust our Manager and have a taste~ That okay?"
"Of course, sir."
"Let's see, let's see~"
Seung-jae took a bite of risotto and blinked.
"...? It's good."
"So can I eat?"
"Uh, probably?"
"I'm eating. I'm really eating."
Hyeon Si-gyeong, who had already been cutting into the lamb, looked up.
"? Yes."
"What the-- how long have you been eating?"
"Since it was served."
Do-heon blinked at the answer.
'That was a normal response.'
A question flickered through his mind, but he was too hungry to dwell on it. Do-heon gave in to his hunger, carefully sliced a piece of lamb, and took a bite.
"...Insane."
"Good, right?"
"So fucking good."
Warm juices and fragrant herbs bloomed across his palate. His stomach, frozen tight with tension, seemed to melt soft as cotton candy.
The General Manager spoke.
"This isn't a standard course format, but I prioritized getting food to you quickly over formality. Should you need anything else, please consult the menu."
"This is so surreal."
It genuinely felt like walking into an absurdly expensive hotel restaurant.
"Doesn't seem poisoned...."
"No curses, either."
Seung-jae mumbled through another mouthful of risotto.
"This really does seem like normal food. Am I the only one seeing it that way? What do you think, Inspector?"
"It's normal food."
"Then how does this place's structure even work...?"
He kept muttering "this isn't common," but didn't press the General Manager further. He simply picked up the menu.
"Oh, they have Korean food?"
"Yes, a limited selection is available."
"Boiled Pressed Pork... Buckwheat Jelly... Buckwheat Crepes...."
Partway through reading the menu, Seung-jae looked at the General Manager with a flat expression.
"......"
"Is there a question?"
"I'm wondering if this menu isn't a little too heavy on the General Manager's personal taste?"
"I can only say it was not my selection."
"But the menu is way too Dokkaebi-friendly."
"I repeat: it was not my selection."
After a brief silence, the General Manager spoke.
"If needed, custom dishes or an omakase-style service are also available. If you specify a particular dish or preferred cuisine, we can prepare it to order."
"You have that?"
"Would you like to use it?"
"Sure, sounds great. Could you do something like sanchae bibimbap?"
"Of course, sir."
Listening in, Do-heon blurted.
"What's a 'cuisine'?"
The answer came not from Seung-jae but from the General Manager.
"It's an expression used to emphasize the style or identity of a type of cooking--a concept categorized by ingredients, techniques, and culture. In the case of fine dining, it's called 'Haute Cuisine.'"
"Huh? In simple terms?"
"It means fancy cooking."
"You really know my level."
He'd barely finished middle school. Do-heon looked at Seung-jae.
"You're pretty knowledgeable? Didn't expect that."
"Could you drop the second half? That stings."
He shrugged and said.
"Consultants in The Gaps end up being treated to meals a lot...."
"The Gaps? You mean The G○ps?"
"We need to feed this kid and put him to bed, fast."
The General Manager merely smiled and retreated, and around then the owl descended from Do-heon's shoulder.
"Does this... does this thing eat? It must, right?"
"It's got a mouth, so probably~?"
"Does it eat bread...?"
When he tore off a small piece and offered it, the owl gave Do-heon an exquisitely dubious look before snapping it up.
"......?"
"What's wrong?"
"I just felt like I was being treated like a hopeless idiot."
"Why are you fighting with an owl~"
"The slander is unreal."
Before long, the ordered dishes arrived and they continued eating. Situation be damned--hunger and good flavor made everything go down.
Just as they were roughly finishing the meal--
> [Artist's Intuition] Someone is approaching.
"Kkhack, kakh, cough...!"
"Ooh, that went down the wrong pipe."
Do-heon choked on risotto and snapped his head up. No presence at all. At some point, a strange man had appeared in the darkness beyond the table, standing silently with an easy smile.
The clink of cutlery against a plate.
> [Optional Observation: Unidentified Gentleman]
> Pale skin, black hair neatly slicked back with wax.
> Wearing a flawless black bespoke suit.
"An unfamiliar face."
> A flash of red seemed to flicker in his eyes.
> The scent of blood grazes the nose.
"Is the meal to your liking?"
The man asked softly, one hand resting on the table's edge. An elegant, refined voice, yet Do-heon froze with his fork in hand, gripped by an indescribable pressure.
He felt as though he was about to be eaten alive.
"Oh, and who might you be? Guest or staff?"
Seung-jae asked with feigned ease, dabbing his mouth with a napkin.
"Ah, forgive the late introduction. Please call me the Guest Without Taste."
"That doesn't sound like a real name."
"One of the manners to observe in this hotel."
Then, smiling, he added.
"Of course, this particular manner doesn't apply to you, so there's no need to worry."
The man's gaze swept lightly over the dishes on the table. His eyes on the empty plates were dry yet somehow chill. The look of a critic.
"Superb aroma. Though soon enough, this restaurant's menu will be completely overhauled. I plan to open here as Head Chef before long."
"Oh, a chef? In a place like this?"
At Do-heon's question, the man laughed softly.
"Haha... the Manager and I have been having productive discussions. Conditional, of course. Which is why I'm passing the time in this polite and uneventful manner."
The man's eyes drifted lazily toward Seung-jae. Do-heon saw the pitch-black pupils dilate with bestial strangeness.
"But, sir, you carry a most... familiar scent."
"Huh? Do I smell? I guess I've been rolling around without changing clothes or washing properly since yesterday, so there might be a bit of bachelor funk."
"No."
The man wrinkled his nose microscopically and twisted his lips into a mocking smirk.
"I mean the smell of ash. The kind that clings to those who forcibly twist and incinerate the natural order of the world."
"......"
Do-heon blinked at those words.
'Ash smell? Is he talking about what I smelled in the Greenhouse?'
Before long, Seung-jae chuckled.
"Oh my, I do smoke a bit. You must be sensitive to smells?"
"Please don't trouble yourself. This hotel embraces whatever scent a guest may carry."
"How gracious."
Seung-jae deflected with his genial smile, but Do-heon didn't miss his uncle's hand tightening to a fist beneath the table.
"More importantly."
Then the man's red gaze slid toward Do-heon.
"You look familiar."
"......"
"Hmm...."
He said nothing more. He simply looked between Do-heon and the white owl huddled on his shoulder, curving his eyes long and narrow like crescent moons.
'Similar to the General Manager's expression, but somehow, a bit....'
Just as that grotesquely deep, dark, inscrutable smile was sending a chill up his spine--
"--Sir."
The temperature of the Dining returned.
"Initiating unnecessary contact with guests at another table is a breach of dining etiquette."
The General Manager had closed in beside the table without a sound, staring at the Guest Without Taste with inorganic golden eyes.
"I believe I've given a similar warning before."
"Ah, I was just so delighted to see new faces."
"And as you are aware, your residency is not yet a confirmed matter."
"Of course I know."
He smiled courteously.
"I was merely paying my respects. What an... upstanding guest I am."
The man continued.
"I was rude for a moment. My apologies, General Manager. I simply wished to greet the guests who'd arrived at what will soon be my workplace, but it seems I've ruffled feathers."
"Disturbing a meal is, in itself, a discourtesy. I would ask you to refrain from treating my guests rudely."
"How cold."
He grinned, adjusted his cane, and stepped back.
"Magnificent as always, General Manager."
"You flatter me. I am merely upholding courtesy and principle toward guests, as this hotel's administrator. I ask that unnecessary disturbances be avoided."
"Very well. I have plenty of time, after all."
The man tapped his cane lightly on the floor and turned away.
"Then, do enjoy the rest of your dinner."
Clink,
The sound of tableware.
Only a heavy silence remained at the table from which the man had departed.
Do-heon was frozen solid with fork in hand. Seung-jae scratched his chin, glaring sharply in the direction the man had left. The owl on Do-heon's shoulder pecked his ear gently.
"Ow."
"Hoo."
It felt like it meant 'Stop being dramatic.'
'It didn't actually hurt, but somehow I feel wronged.'
Do-heon's gaze drifted to the General Manager, still standing there with his smile.
The perfectly calibrated hospitality posture, the empty eyes that hadn't reacted to the provocation. Spotless white gloves and a wrinkle-free suit. That was a perfectly tuned machine, nothing less.
"......"
...And yet, just now.
'Did he... help us?'
It was a strange feeling.