"How much do you know about humans?"
"No."
"Dear me, we have a long way to go."
"Yes."
"Or perhaps your eyes have been sold to the food."
Yeon-woo set a steak down in front of Coco. Coco stared at nothing but the meat with the intensity of something about to bury its face in it. Truly a creature of voracious appetite.
Having confirmed this, Yeon-woo took his seat across from Coco. With Coco sitting at the center of the table, "across" was admittedly imprecise.
"Hello?"
"This is pyeonyuk. Boiled pork head meat, pressed and thinly sliced. The texture is quite different from the steak in front of you."
"Hello?"
"That's buckwheat jelly salad, and next to it is buckwheat crepe. And this is buckwheat tea."
"Pork? Buckwheat?"
"Yes, I'm... rather fond of them."
There weren't many foods Yeon-woo could describe himself as "fond of." Alcohol, pork, buckwheat, and perhaps rice cakes or fruit. But he was averse to the act of eating in the first place.
It felt as though a foreign substance were entering his body....
"I felt this even during the game, but being a Western-style hotel, Korean dishes are hard to come by. The few I managed to find were the kind you'd see at a funeral or an ancestral rite."
"Ancestral rite."
"It's a bit odd from the perspective of someone eating, but these were foods I originally preferred, so it doesn't matter. They even had sorghum rice, as if they'd genuinely intended it as a ritual spread."
Boiled pork and buckwheat jelly was a splendid combination. Add crepes and seasoned greens on the side and it was the icing on the cake. Cap it off with steamed rice cake for dessert and it would be perfect.
'I never expected to reap the benefits of the tutorial ending in this way.'
The reputation among his former coworkers—who'd said his palate skipped past middle-aged and went straight to ancestral—flickered briefly through his mind, then was dismissed.
Yeon-woo took a bite of buckwheat crepe.
"Hmm...."
...It was good, but.
'Just like when I taste-tested the Human Guests' food. Maybe it's been so long that it feels even more uncomfortable.'
The peculiar dissonance felt when a foreign substance invaded his body's interior. He set down his chopsticks, dabbed at the corner of his mouth, and changed the subject.
"Let's leave the menu discussion here."
This was just a pretext anyway.
"Today, I'd like to have a conversation about humans."
"Nyes."
"Whether a conversation like this will actually help you understand humans remains to be seen, Coco, but I believe the most important thing in bridging the gap between species is ultimately understanding and acceptance."
"Yes...."
"You look exactly like a student who doesn't want to study. The fact that you've learned to express yourself that way is itself proof that you understand me as a human being to some degree."
"Yes."
"Good."
Yeon-woo scooped rice with his spoon. Quite soft in texture, as intended. It was a dish that existed within the game's system, but it seemed minor adjustments like this were possible.
"Humans. And humanity. A topic that invites much discussion."
Coco opened its mouth in a round 'O' as if to say, 'Not my problem.'
"Ah."
"......"
"Ah. Ah."
"...Hold on."
Starb○cks.
'Where does the food even go?'
Yeon-woo had been about to cut the steak into pieces, then stopped. Such an action didn't suit the size of that mouth. He placed the entire piece of meat into its opening.
Coco absorbed it without so much as pretending to chew. Not surprising at this point, but still intriguing.
'What kind of structure does its digestive system have?'
Yeon-woo shelved that question and pressed on with the main topic.
"Shall we get back to our discussion?"
First, philosophy.
"From a philosophical standpoint, humanity refers to the combination of reason and autonomy, existential awareness, and moral responsibility. In other words, it describes exhausting beings who endlessly ask the question, 'Who am I?'"
"Moral responsibility."
"Exactly. The whole ordeal I went through to get Director Lee Seon-hae and Mr. Hong Gyeong-yeon out as safely as possible—that was the same context. It's the kind of responsibility that humans universally come to bear."
"Universal?"
"You disagree?"
"Yes."
"How unfortunate."
As anyone with a bit of professional experience would know, it was truly regrettable that not all humans possessed a 'universal sense of responsibility.'
'Few people know that better than me.'
Ultimately, it was a matter of probability and averages. Humans were, after all, creatures of strong individuality.
"Then let's move to the law. Humanity in legal terms can be summarized as the prerequisite for rights. It means the basis for being an entity that must be equally respected before the law."
"No."
"Honest, at least. Then again, for someone like you, Coco, who inhabits a game system and a lawless zone, human-made laws would carry neither weight nor meaning. That sort of opinion is as unsettling as it is fascinating."
"Hello!"
"That wasn't a compliment."
Yeon-woo added:
"To rephrase—humans are creatures who need such complex agreements just to guarantee themselves minimum rights."
That was how the law framed humanity.
"So how does science describe humanity? Simply: a higher primate. A species characterized by an advanced brain structure, sociality, and metacognition. That's all it is, but...."
"Eeh."
"Starting to yawn?"
"Yes."
"Well, professional life begins with enduring things you don't want to hear. Sorry, but I'm not finished yet."
He wasn't sorry at all, really. Given that Coco was most likely the one who'd dragged Yeon-woo into this hellhole, the kidnapper had an obligation to share in its manager's agony.
Discussions this complex were only ever organized through sharing them with someone else, after all.
"There's also the argument that only humans create art. From that angle, humanity in the artistic sense would be the refinement and interpretation of experience—the pinnacle of self-expression."
"Eeeh."
"You've gotten quite cunning, haven't you? That particular cutesy act doesn't work on me, but I'll credit the improvement in your interactions with humans and wrap things up here."
It was getting rather adorable, what it was doing.
'That sort of wheedling must be an imitation of human behavior.'
Within this desolate hotel, what on earth had it used as a reference?
'If there were no external influences, it might mean its intelligence system was already highly sophisticated to begin with. Or perhaps there was some other channel through which it could learn human culture. But... no.'
He set that question aside as well.
"...So...."
Back to the main topic.
"...To summarize: a human is a being that understands others, recognizes itself, creates meaning, and bears moral responsibility. That's the conclusion reached after many people deliberated for a very long time. Regardless of whether it's truly right or not."
Yeon-woo tasted the boiled pork and set his chopsticks down.
'Not exactly conditions conducive to an appetite.'
The pork rolled across his palate, and a thick taste of blood lingered in his mouth.
"I don't think I'm not human."
"......"
"...Unlike during the tutorial, I'm now experiencing fragments of what seem to be genuine biological responses."
Following the scent of blood, his tongue grazed his lips and his gaze drifted sideways.
"I'm aware that fatigue, pain, hunger—these sensations exist, however incompletely."
"......"
"However, are you familiar with the concept of the uncanny valley?"
"Yes."
"Why do you know that?"
"Pardon?"
"That's the discomfort I'm feeling right now. I don't know what to do with this sensation of having become something that's neither living nor non-living."
"No."
"Would you prefer that I fully cease to be human?"
Yeon-woo chewed on the buckwheat jelly.
Scallions and red pepper. Soy sauce and garlic, sesame oil. By all rights, the flavors and aromas should have been intense, but they were buried under the taste of blood that coated his tongue. Every breath carried the scent of blood.
It felt like being buried alive in liquid blood.
And yet—no, precisely because of that.
"......"
Yeon-woo ate his meal.
"...Perhaps you're right."
"Yes."
"It might be far more efficient and rational for me to stop being human. If I were to weigh numbers and probabilities—the overwhelming majority of outcomes, so to speak."
"Yes."
"But if I keep giving things up and resigning myself, one by one, I can't imagine what kind of choices I'll end up making later. And as you know, I absolutely despise uncertainty. The world can't be entirely clear-cut, but at the very least, shouldn't I be within my own grasp?"
"No."
"Oh dear, is that what you think?"
He clicked his tongue in feigned hurt.
"How disappointing...."
And yet, an interesting opinion.
'As I suspected, this hotel does need a person called Lee Yeon-woo.'
Yeon-woo smiled faintly and continued.
"Something seems to be bothering you, but this is quite an important matter. How can someone who can't even protect their own foundation accomplish anything greater? Don't you agree?"
"Hello."
"It wouldn't be a bad deal for you either, Coco. You want me to plant myself in this hotel and manage these unidentifiable guests and this living building in an ideal manner."
"Yes."
"So even if—making a hundred concessions—I stop being 'human,' that's fine."
He could readily offer that much as a wager.
"What matters is that I remain 'me'—not what my cells are made of."
"......"
"Humans are, by nature, the product of adaptation and evolution shaped by their environment. I'm simply following that course. It's just that my stride happens to be a bit more peculiar—and a bit faster—than most."
Even so, he wished to remain 'himself.'
"...Shall we think about what constitutes 'me'?"
"Yes."
"I tend to skip meals. I fill up easily and lose interest quickly, so I don't eat much. I don't bother eating things that don't taste good, and the sensation of being full is uncomfortable and unpleasant."
"Yes."
"I strive to lead as ideal a life as possible, but it isn't easy.... When I'm focused on something, I skip meals, exercise, and sleep. It's only after everything is finished that I regain the presence of mind to take care of myself."
"Yes."
"...And...."
What else was there?
Things that could express who he was. Things that could be called the core of his identity.
"......"
"......"
"...Seeing as there are more things coming to mind than I can be bothered to put into words, it seems I haven't gone mad just yet. Isn't that fortunate?"
"No."
"Wicked cat."
Philosophy and psychology weren't his areas of expertise.
But Yeon-woo knew himself. He knew what he'd die before giving up. And that hadn't changed even while every cell in his body was replaced, even while cycling through life and death.
It went without saying—failing to accomplish what could be done was,
incompetence.
'At least to me.'
That was simply a given.
"I think I've sorted things out to some extent."
"Hello?"
"Yes, the first priority should be doing what I can do right now."
There were many tasks ahead. His head was still a mess, but at the very least, sustaining his own life by harming others was something he could not call 'me.' That was what Yeon-woo believed.
For that, both he and the hotel needed to take action.
"Well then...."
[Tutorial Rewards Claimed]
Nightmare Assets ×300
Random Box ×1
Employee Recruitment Tickets ×10
"Shall we start by opening the gift box?"
"Yes."