There are roughly four methods for dealing with monster guests.
1. Contract
2. Exorcism
3. Management
4. Neglect
The Contract route comes with semi-permanent penalties. The Exorcism route is dangerous and entails heavy losses. Neglect, if one doesn't want to run the hotel into the ground, shouldn't even be entertained as a thought.
Therefore, the safest method of response is "Management."
"A rather awkward situation."
He murmured, looking down at the marble floor that had only just reclaimed its original color.
"The management manual for the 'Drenched One' is clear-cut. Reinforce the humidity control system, track its movement patterns through plumbing monitoring, and above all, physically block any frequency of contact with human guests."
"Yes."
"A thoroughly rational method in which, at the very least, no one dies… but the affairs of this world are so capricious that things rarely go as I'd wish."
Exceptions always arise.
"Damage to the humidity control system, of all things."
A high probability it was the weather pushing past critical thresholds.
"When the system collapses, the 'Drenched One's' walking frequency spikes. Especially its probability of responding to the warmth human guests give off and initiating pursuit rises dramatically."
"Yes, it rises."
A rather unpleasant turn of events—both for the general manager, and for him as one human being.
"And the guests came down earlier than expected."
By the manual, the humidity control system should have been seen to first, but there was an absolute shortage of physical time. The 'Drenched One' had already taken up position along the route through the lobby.
And in the middle of all this, the oblivious guests were walking down into a death trap on their own two feet.
'A complete predicament.'
Only one option remained. Namely: Distraction.
'Crude, but the most certain of stopgap measures.'
A method in which the user becomes bait themselves, hijacking the monster guest's interest.
The distraction method against the 'Drenched One' is more straightforward than one might expect: simply stand in its path and issue an appropriate suggestion that it move on. The success condition is humidity above 65%.
'Current humidity 65.3 percent… that was cutting it close.'
When distraction succeeds, the pursuit of the human guest is forcibly delayed, and the erosion rate is adjusted downward as well. The reason the 'Drenched One' went up to the seventh floor without complaint just now was because those conditions had been met.
"Any slower, and far uglier stains than those would have been left on the marble floor. Responding to a 'Drenched One' that has already made contact with a human guest is a difficult matter even for me."
"Yes, a difficult matter."
Of course, even with that success, there was a price he had clearly paid.
"Increased frequency of nightly nightmares, hypothermia, and real injury and massive blood loss from the distraction itself…. The classic 'give flesh to take bone.'"
"Yes."
"At least my memory hasn't failed me."
"Yes."
Coco was rippling eerily as it looked at Lee Yeon-woo's injuries. Like a living liquid creature. Probably expressing negative emotion in its own way.
"Is the condition serious?"
"Yes."
"I thought so. My back feels a bit empty."
Nothing surprising. The 'Drenched One's' surface image is that of a "rainy-day killer." Its essence is the shape of the "drowned" concept, but in reality it carries blades of various kinds.
Mostly kitchen knives, if memory serves.
'Bad luck can get you torn apart like just now. I have only my own luck to blame.'
Attacks beyond the blade—that is, being bitten—are purely a matter of probability. At most a chance of around 8 percent. It simply so happened that, of all things, today that scarce winning ticket had ended up in his hand.
"Fortunately, nothing like a sizable chunk of flesh was rolling around on the lobby floor. Thanks to that, I managed to maintain at least a thin veneer of dignity in front of the guests. Should I express gratitude for that?"
"No."
"Such firmness that it makes me feel foolish for even trying to turn this into humor."
"No?"
"You're right, it isn't a situation to laugh off. Thank you for the objective and unambiguous answer. Perhaps because I'm in a state of major blood loss, I can't even produce a decent joke properly."
"Yes."
"Additional treatment will be needed… though I have no clear sense of where to begin. That as a modern 21st-century person I have to consider self-surgery—this is exactly why staffing shortages are frightening."
Honestly, nonsense. He felt like his brain wasn't working because there was no blood in it.
"…First, let me get somewhere safe."
Lee Yeon-woo boarded the Operator-only elevator. With the human guests already out, he meant to seize the opening to patch up this sorry state of affairs. For that, heading to his quarters would be best.
Arriving at the Operator's Quarters and standing before the full-length mirror, Lee Yeon-woo let out a remark.
"Well, how to put this."
"Yes?"
"It's rather… grotesque."
"Yes?"
The flesh had been gouged out so deeply that the bone structure was plainly exposed beyond the muscle tissue. Even for Lee Yeon-woo, who had lived through forty-some years, it wasn't a scene one ran into easily.
'No—it shouldn't be easy to run into in the first place.'
He wasn't a doctor.
"…A sight only practicing surgeons would welcome. Or, given the world these days, even for them this is probably visually impolite. A rather awkward situation."
During the distraction process, the 'Drenched One' attacks the user. At first it seemed like stabbing with a knife, but the moment he blocked with his hand, it bit down outright, like an animal. Whatever manners it had must have washed away in the rain.
"I'll say it again, but I never thought I'd use blood magic this usefully."
"Never thought?"
"Yes. After all, I only started learning it recently, and it was rather far from the definition of magic I know. At the moment, all I can manage is making blood move…."
The basics of basics. Of course, even this would be a miracle and a great advance for the medical field, but Lee Yeon-woo wasn't a doctor. He was just a salaryman who barely managed to keep his own body together.
Amid all that, he'd wondered what could be done by merely handling blood, and today he came to grasp its usefulness viscerally. He was, in real time, regulating his own blood.
'If I had to summarize: stretching one's life just a little thinner and a little longer….'
Holding the blood back so it wouldn't pour from the wound; forcibly pumping a heart that was trying to stop.
"……."
Though put that way.
"…Worded as a sentence, it sounds exactly like a madman's rambling."
"Yes?"
"There's that sort of thing."
To think the human anatomy he'd crammed in high school would come in useful this way. Something he finds himself feeling a few times a year—life truly is unpredictable.
"Under normal circumstances, pain and shock should have at least knocked me unconscious. Fortunately, the game character's body is helping out there. Which conversely means my condition is serious enough that I have to lean on the game system."
"Yes…."
"Soon my brain will split into four pieces."
If he stopped the blood magic, he would die.
"I can die and come back, so it doesn't matter for me, but…."
"No."
"The problem is the human guests."
They would have noticed something was off during his reception in the lobby earlier. He would have liked them to run far, far away, but human curiosity doesn't work that rationally.
Director Lee Seon-hae's sharp, glinting eyes from yesterday, in particular, bothered him.
"Will those people come back here?"
His concentration wavered for an instant, and a drop of blood fell and wet the floor with a small tok.
"I did the best I could to keep the scent of blood from carrying to them. Beyond the literal impression of 'something's strange,' they likely wouldn't have grasped the truth…. But still."
His back remained wide open. A truly gruesome sight. Perhaps from blood loss, the face in the mirror had gone pale and drained. The expression was more forbidding than usual.
"Director Lee Seon-hae and Writer Hong Gyeong-yeon are known for being quick to catch on and for enjoying risk. The industry reputation for that peculiar investigative spirit is well-established."
"Yes."
"What was that 'yes' for?"
"Yes…."
The cat, which had been quietly watching him, spoke like a broken radio.
"—Director Lee Seon-hae and Writer Hong Gyeong-yeon. Known for enjoying risk. Investigative spirit. Will those people come back here? Yes. Yes. Yes."
He roughly understood.
"…Coco, I learned only today that you're the sort of cat who can string that many words together."
"Hello?"
"Yes. So admirable I'm about to tear up."
"Yes."
"……."
His insides tightened a little.
"…Ha…."
He swept his hair back with a hand covered in blood.
The reflection in the mirror was a mess. The neatly swept-back hair was damp with blood, and dark red stains marked the collar of his shirt. Being unable even to keep up basic self-censorship and ending up this disheveled brought substantial displeasure.
Truly, filthy, and unkempt.
"…Yes."
He didn't like it.
"Things are really… turning tiresome…."
Slick, damp, and lukewarm on top of it.
"…First, let me calm down."
"Yes."
"I'll start with treatment."
"Yes. Treatment."
"I've been saying this a lot lately, but if I'd known it would come to this, I would have become a doctor. And of doctors, a surgeon or an anatomy professor… that sort of…."
"……."
"Alright. I can hardly receive guests with a hole in me. Where to begin."
Among the penalties, the mental-disorder category of 'increased nightly nightmare frequency' was no problem.
'I've had similar situations a few times, so I know. A penalty from the Drenched One can't be all that different. At most, a drowning cutscene during sleep, and it passes.'
Literally a "game cutscene," with zero real impact.
'Too early to be sure, but hypothermia is probably fine too. This one is just setting. And ordinarily, the Operator doesn't die from a hypothermia status ailment. If the hotel's temperature were to drop further from here, that might be another matter, but that isn't the situation.'
Because this body was a game character, it had "that setting," but there were no actual additional symptoms from it. No shivering, no diminished judgment, no muscle rigidity. Truly, only the body itself being cold.
'But the injuries from the attack and the resulting massive blood loss—setting or not—are directly tied to the user's life. Naturally; even in the game, massive blood loss is a status that can cause death. And since this isn't just any character but an actual real-world body as well… a misstep and I could really die.'
Count the time it would take to die and resurrect? A human guest could end up in danger during that interval. That had to be prevented. And he couldn't face human guests in this state either.
'Even so, what method is there? The blood magic texts had a section on hyperregeneration, but I haven't studied it. Attempting regeneration with an ability at this level is impossible.'
Then, the next option.
'Is there a regeneration item somewhere in the hotel? No. In the tutorial stage, high-grade recovery items are locked away. Healing an injury of this degree would require the shop to open. That's difficult too.'
Using the bed in the Quarters?
'It can resolve a minimum of status ailments. But penalties from Common-to-Both-Versions monster guests don't fall within that minimum range of status ailments. Sleeping and waking would only refill the lost blood.'
That was something, but it wasn't enough. And once he lay down, a whole day could pass.
"……."
A conclusion soon emerged.
"…I'll have to wrap myself in bandages to reduce the wrongness of a caved-in body, and use blood magic to stall for as much time as possible so this body doesn't die."
"No?"
"In the tutorial, resurrection takes at least three days at minimum. If a human guest came during that window, they would certainly be gravely injured. Or die. I can't leave it like that."
"No. No."
Few games heal a character's injuries simply by leaving them still.
'This game is the same.'
Unless he healed the injury, the 'massive blood loss' wouldn't go away either. Continuous damage, restrictions on movement, and this body prone to easy panic.
It would be inconvenient in many respects.
'But I can cover the roughly one week until Director Lee Seon-hae's group wraps up their stay and leaves.'
Don't cling to what isn't there. With what's given, it can certainly be managed.
'Use the Operator's Quarters bed to refill the blood I've lost, regulate the blood so as not to reach death, and mimic the lost organs with blood in their place….'
Yes.
That should do.
'No matter what status ailment hangs on me, the Operator never dies in the Quarters bed.'
There's always a way.
'If I focus on blood movement as soon as I wake, it won't reach death. The guests may feel something is off, but as long as I keep my life attached, it can be managed to a degree.'
Fortunately, there was no pain.
"If it had hurt on top of everything, I couldn't have made such a crude choice. A real blessing."
"No?"
"Strange. The usual dry tone, and yet today, why does it sound this flustered?"
"Yes."
"Alright, remember this, Coco."
Yeon-woo dryly rolled his eyes over to meet Coco's gaze on the desk. A faint smile soon traced itself onto his bloodless face.
"If another guest ever enters this hotel, I will respond this way, consistently."
Who had let people into this place?
Shamefully and unpleasantly, the real Lee Yeon-woo couldn't answer that question.
Coco's inner workings, whether 'this' was truly the game data he had known—he didn't know. He couldn't even be certain how the existence called Lee Yeon-woo was appraised within this unanswerable space.
But he still had the right to issue at least this much warning.
"I'll be hurt in their place. I'll be angry. I'll be tormented by every status ailment and die. Then I'll come back and protect the guests again. Because that's what I've decided."
"……."
"I don't quite know why you treat me specially. Whether because of twenty-six years' worth of time, because I hold the copyright to this game, or because there's some separate reason I was abducted to this place. Whichever it is, my conclusion doesn't change."
"……."
"When guests come, I'll die as much as they would have had to die, and be wounded as much as they would have had to be wounded. I won't let anyone die here, and I won't let people be treated like game data. As you know, that is my way of operating."
"……."
"And then, one day, I—the very one you cherish so—may no longer hold this form and break down. Unlike a game character, I'm not infinite data but something that wears down and abrades easily… a paltry human being."
"……."
"Did you understand?"
Coco tilted its head.
"Yes."
A grotesque gesture that announced its essence wasn't that of a cat.
"Yes. No. Human."
"……."
"Yes. No? Yes, yes. Yes. Yes. Hello? Hello. Hel—yes? No. No? Yes. Did you understand: unpleasantly unpleasant. Nobody. Will protect. Decided. Understand? Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand."
"……."
"Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand. Understand—."
Cut off abruptly.
"Did you understand."
"…They say cats are difficult creatures to know."
Lee Yeon-woo, too, tilted his head.
"So it turns out."
It didn't seem it would back down easily.
***
"Oh my, you're still in the lobby?"
And Director Lee Seon-hae returned.
"Um, today… we brought things to eat."
"That's right. Didn't we do well?"
Together with Writer Hong Gyeong-yeon.
"How do we apologize for this? Our staff got scheduling in another region, so we sent them off there. You lent us two whole rooms, and I felt terrible the whole way here, like we were throwing away your kindness."
Director Lee Seon-hae, brazenly hoisting up a grocery bag with a grin. But behind that bright smile, her unmistakable streak of stubbornness was quietly bleeding through.
Lee Yeon-woo silently thought to himself.
"……."
That there was someone besides Coco who wouldn't back down.
"…No, attending to our guests in comfort is what I am duty-bound to do."
That a real incident might genuinely be about to unfold.