The activities available to the user during the tutorial were limited.
All one could do was receive low-difficulty guests, identify the horror elements within the hotel, and keep oneself alive. Even the accessible areas were confined to the lobby, the Operator’s quarters, the power plant, and the guest-room floors.
“To think this much nightmare has piled up and yet I cannot put any of it to use immediately. From the user’s standpoint, it is a deeply inconvenient situation. Once the tutorial ends and it is all forcibly converted into levels, it will become currency that leaves not a single coin in my pocket.”
“Yes.”
“My unpaid labor has already gone well past the hundred-day mark....”
This was insanity.
“…….”
“…….”
“...I refuse again.”
Without even looking at those round eyes pressing him in wordless insistence, Lee Yeon-woo replied dryly.
“I have no intention of taking human guests. If I apply the game’s methods of operation directly to reality, I will face not only social condemnation, but my own face plastered across the nine o’clock news in handcuffs.”
He was in the power plant at present.
“What a sight.”
“Yes.”
“I do not know from what era of industrial labor this scene hails, but its safety rating is certainly a failing grade.”
“No.”
“...?”
Between aged, rusted pipes and hulking clumps of machinery, machine-men worked with organic, grotesque motions—the laborers.
“What part of that was ‘no’?”
From the control room’s broad glass window, he could take in the entire inefficient yet overwhelming spectacle at a glance.
“In the game, it only displayed the degree to which nightmare had filled, but this place is much more complex. I suppose that is because it has become reality. Perhaps that is only natural.”
“Yes.”
“It seems to have exceeded its fuel storage limit. Where is the excess going? Does it disperse into the air? Does it ignore the laws of physics? Or else....”
“…….”
There was no answer.
The silence stretched on, but Lee Yeon-woo did not press. He merely followed the shrill flow of the pipes with his eyes.
‘Does it not know, or does it not feel the answer is worth giving?’
...It is not easy probing an opponent with whom conversation refuses to take hold.
‘I wanted to confirm whether this place truly is the hotel from that game I spent twenty-six years with.’
He still had not identified this place’s exact nature. Lee Yeon-woo rolled his eyes dryly. In truth, he already knew where the excess fuel went even without asking.
‘The structure is clear to me with my eyes closed.’
In proportion to the hotel’s level, its storage capacity for nightmare increased as well. But at the tutorial stage, it had already exceeded its critical point. If the tutorial ended like this, the outcome would be quite a thing to behold.
“If I remember correctly, once nightmare fills to its limit, it has an immense effect on the hotel’s disposition.”
“Aaaah....”
“That is, assuming one ignores the bugs in the operating system. Is my memory correct, landlord?”
“—No, yes.”
Nightmares the power plant could not contain became the hotel’s flesh and blood. The hotel fed on that excess negative energy, grew, and shaped its own selfhood and temperament.
And more often than not, the result was something vicious.
“Our developer’s kind little threat, as I recall—that unless you level up on time, your work environment will turn into hell.”
“Yes.”
“How regrettable.”
That even this had been reflected now that it was reality.
‘Still, in the present situation, with the tutorial bug already triggered, it may actually be an opportunity.’
Unprocessed nightmare was converted directly into the user’s experience points. It seemed an unearned high level had already been reserved for him, but Lee Yeon-woo pressed his thumb hard against his temple.
‘An unwanted promotion, it seems... what an honor.’
He had not the slightest intention of settling down here. If he wanted to return to society, he first needed to get past this hotel’s threshold and grasp the state of the world outside. He could worry about his return plan after that.
“…….”
...The real problem, in the end, will be when I am thrown into reality with a level far beyond normal specifications.
‘I cannot see the exact shape of the disaster yet, but I know one is waiting.’
He did not know what form that “disaster” would take. He only knew it was ominous. This hotel was no simple building, and Lee Yeon-woo was now bound to it.
Out of habit, he slanted his gaze and stared at the tangled network of pipes.
“…….”
Lee Yeon-woo looked upon the faded, dust-caked world with emotionless eyes. His gaze lowered.
‘That is not diligence. It is exploitation.’
Its proper name was the Crumpled Laborer, though it was more simply called a worker. The thought it stirred in him was strange.
“I still cannot grow accustomed to it.”
“Yes.”
“Do you think one can acclimate even to this sort of contamination?”
“Yes.”
“That optimism of yours is itself something I must regard with caution.”
He blinked and shook the thought loose.
“I do not think I could ever grow used to this feeling, as though worms had burrowed into my brain.”
The power plant was the worst kind of workplace, where water contamination and mental contamination occurred at once. The Operator sometimes came under attack from workers that clawed their way up while he tuned nightmare, but the true problem came from within.
The longer one stayed here, the more waves of disgust and elation crashed over them.
‘That is why, after remaining in the power plant for a certain amount of time, the Operator throws himself down there.’
What sort of logic produced that result, he had no idea.
‘Does it make one want to grab them by the collar and fight them face-to-face?’
The contamination here was the kind that made one come to despise them.
‘When the disgust and exhilaration reached their peak... yes, I suppose such thoughts might come.’
If he stayed here longer, he might understand it too. Already, vile feelings were beginning to surface toward those workers. Vermin were things to be looked down on and humiliated, and I had to break them utterly.
Ah, wait.
‘Enough.’
He was being contaminated.
“…….”
He resumed his train of thought in his usual manner.
“...Perhaps it is only because this is still the early stage. It is not terribly difficult to restore my mind to normal, but this is still not a place one can remain in for long.”
“Yes.”
“I had hoped that today, of all days, I might conduct an in-depth interview with our power plant staff, but alas. Labor-management harmony, for the peace of all parties—”
He needed to leave at about this point.
“We shall discuss it next time.”
Because he was starting to feel like throwing himself in.
***
He returned to his quarters.
Outside the window, it was still dark, and it was raining.
“…….”
He wanted to know what lay beyond it.
“...I wonder how my project is progressing.”
“Yes.”
“How my family is doing, how the people at the company are interpreting my disappearance. There were not a few projects I was involved in, so how are those proceeding as well....”
“Yes.”
“You said that I had not gone into the game, but that the game had come out into reality. Even if I interpreted that imperfectly, the situation must be similar. If so, then what has become of me?”
“Yes.”
“There is too much I do not know.”
He was tired. It was the fatigue brought on by his own incompetence. Lee Yeon-woo found it difficult to endure such incompetence in himself.
It had already been a hundred days, and still he was weak and knew nothing.
“There is no teacher here to tell me what I do not know.”
“No.”
“No matter how lacking in conscience you may be, I would prefer you not tell me that teacher is you.”
“Yes, no.”
“Is there a teacher here other than you?”
“Yes.”
“That is... interesting news.”
He had already been running out of things to do. Unless the hotel’s level increased, the number of guests would not rise, and the Operator’s routine had already grown so familiar that it was little more than repetitive labor.
‘Even if the highest-difficulty monsters arrive because of the bug, in the end they are still only beings from a body of data I know by heart. Even if reality has changed them in many ways... that is not what I need.’
Lee Yeon-woo considered his current boredom to be equivalent to safety. What he needed right now was not excessive stimulation, but knowledge—knowledge that would help him make wiser choices going forward.
“Can I visit this teacher within the areas I am currently able to move through?”
“Yes.”
“Is this teacher able to communicate with me directly, as you do, Coco?”
“No.”
“Does this teacher take the form of informational material?”
“Yes.”
“Ah.”
He understood.
“You mean the books here.”
“Yes.”
Bookshelves crowded every part of the Operator’s quarters.
In the game they had been noninteractive elements, but now that it had become reality, he could pull them down and open them freely. When he opened one, the pages were dense with text.
That could certainly help alleviate Lee Yeon-woo’s ignorance.
“I agree with your opinion as well. If I intend to achieve anything more at this stage of the tutorial, then I suppose I have little choice but to read such books.”
“Yes.”
“Even so, I would prefer to keep my distance if possible.”
Knowledge was always valuable, but this time he felt no gratitude for it.
There was no guarantee that the books would be safe from mental contamination.
The background of this game, Hoone, was rather complicated.
“A murder hotel built to procure resources for a fraudulent and unethical research facility....”
“Yes.”
“When summarized that way, it is setting excess to a truly absurd degree. It is as though every horrifying and tragic motif in the world has been dragged together in one place.”
“No.”
“Of course, there may well be depths even lower than that. The news often outdoes fiction.”
“Yes.”
“But I had never thought about it seriously.”
He pulled a few hardbound volumes from the shelf. Even a casual glance showed they were filled with knowledge he did not possess. That hopeless lack of ethics aside.
Behind his lenses, his eyes scanned the contents rapidly. Perhaps it was his imagination, but his head throbbed.
“In truth, I think most people are like me. Ordinary—no, perhaps common is the better word. Very few users seriously reflect on the morality and ethics of a game’s background.”
Especially when the game bore an adults-only label.
“And yet I did feel affection for this story. Well, naturally. Otherwise I would never have taken the reckless step of paying good money to receive the copyright transfer. I had not intended to go that far at all....”
“No.”
“I like this game rather a lot. It is not the sort of taste one can proudly show off in public, but once a young man just over the threshold of adulthood becomes fixated on something, it can be a fearsome thing.”
He had started playing this game around the age of nineteen, just after his study abroad plans were set. From that time onward, Lee Yeon-woo had spent his life alongside a game called Hotel One.
“It became part of my daily life.”
“Daily life.”
“…….”
Lee Yeon-woo measured Coco with his eyes for a moment, then smiled. It was a flawless shift in expression.
“The beginning of learning is imitation. Excellent.”
“Excellent.”
“You are doing well.”
One good thing about the game becoming reality was that even the parts that had once been impossible to interact with were now accessible. Lee Yeon-woo wanted Coco to learn the ways of human communication, and Coco changed in accordance with that wish.
It would sometimes mimic Lee Yeon-woo’s words. He did not necessarily expect that to become a true path of learning, as he intended. Still, he could imagine it. Coco would eventually become far more adept at using human language.
“Affection and reflection do not necessarily trace the same orbit. I rather like this hotel’s setting. I like it, yes—but it was a story that was acceptable only as setting. In reality, it is illegal and sinful.”
“No.”
“That is according to ordinary human temperament and the law. I still do not know precisely what kind of creature you are. The game never explained it clearly either. So I can understand that you do not abide by human ethics.”
“Yes.”
“But there are things I can respect, and things I cannot. Your ethical sense often does not align with mine. Can you understand that?”
“Can you understand that?”
“Sometimes I get the feeling I am conversing with a tape recorder.”
For now, however, it still seemed able only to imitate human utterance. If there was intent within that imitation, though, then perhaps it could still be called language.
Only then did Lee Yeon-woo return to his original subject.
“…….”
He looked dryly at the thick books.
“...When one knows nothing, even deciding where to begin becomes daunting. There is nothing good about being ignorant. One does not even know what one does not know, and so wastes time.”
He skimmed the books lightly, but they were as unfriendly as expected. Even so, he selected the ones he thought he could at least understand. And there were still quite a lot of them.
“Still, they are not heavy.”
“Yes.”
“I suppose that, too, is possible because I have become one with the game character. The acts of pulling books from the shelf and lifting them were defined within the game, after all. And naturally, a game character does not feel the weight of things.”
“Yes.”
“That I can carry a library of this size without issue in such a frail body. Have the laws of physics been neutered? I would almost praise it for its efficiency, if it were not even more grotesque than it is efficient.”
“Yes.”
“Which suggests that the same laws may apply to the hotel itself. I wonder, then, what awaits outside the hotel.”
“What awaits.”
“If I am fortunate enough to leave this hotel, that is something I will need to investigate alongside my return to society. At that time, Coco, I do not know whether you will be able to remain at my side.”
“No.”
“What exactly are you denying....”
The books settled onto the desk without a sound.
“I suppose I should be grateful that the circumstances for studying have been provided so abundantly.”
“Grateful.”
“Then again, this is a place born of a research facility, so perhaps that is only natural. It is less an ivory tower of knowledge than a massive tomb, but for the moment it is far from unwelcome to me.”
There were three research facilities in the Operator’s quarters. In the game they were used to develop various recipes and weapons. They were ideal places to study.
He opened a book.
“…….”
He closed it.
“...Hah....”
“No, hello... hello.”
“It is all right.”
“It is all right.”
“No, to be honest, it is unpleasant.”
This hotel was the remnant of scientists who had once worshipped and researched the power of the Outer Gods. They lured people in with the promise of a luxurious hotel at comparatively cheap rates, diverted them away as experimental subjects, and spread fanatic faith as well.
‘And after all of that, what gathered from the accumulated negative energy was this hotel itself.’
Hotel One.