When Baek Mu-jin had finished his call and was about to board the elevator.
"......"
The lights on the Rooftop Garden slowly dimmed.
The star-like fixtures sank into darkness all at once.
Baek Mu-jin's scanning gaze came to rest on a single spot. An elegantly decorated outdoor staircase. There alone, small lights still flickered on and off. He sensed something calling to him from those faint sparks.
"......"
Baek Mu-jin didn't refuse. He set foot upon them. Gripping the railing, he descended the frosted glass steps one by one.
Slowly, following the spiral staircase.
'...The scent of flowers.'
It wasn't his imagination. Baek Mu-jin distinctly smelled flowers. Not a fragrance carried from the now-distant Rooftop Garden, nor an artificial scent from the decorative flowers lining the staircase.
And....
'Small footsteps.'
The laughter of young children.
"Young ones."
As if answering his murmur, they giggled. Innocent, and hollow as a passing breeze.
When Baek Mu-jin stopped midway down the stairs and gazed at the hotel's wall.
"......"
That was as far as it went.
The scent and the sounds vanished.
After staring at the featureless exterior wall for a moment, Baek Mu-jin resumed his descent.
The lights on the stairs he'd passed went out, just like that. The small presences that had huddled together like wrens also flickered away with those lights. The frolicking souls returned home.
"......"
Soon, different scents and sounds greeted Baek Mu-jin.
'This staircase connects to the Aqua Park, too.'
The briny smell of water brushing past his nose.
A deeply submerged sound of weeping.
'It seems each section of the hotel has its own distinct domain.'
The entrance to the 23rd floor Aqua Park came into view.
He considered going in, but the staircase lights still continued downward. This light's destination was apparently not here. Baek Mu-jin descended again.
And when he arrived at the 22nd floor. The outdoor staircase ended, and as he stepped inside the hotel—
"......"
All light ceased.
"Where...."
Who had called for him?
Baek Mu-jin indifferently scanned the guest-floor corridor.
An elevator was visible nearby. The button light was off, but the dim indicator showing which floor it had stopped on glowed clearly.
'14th floor.'
Baek Mu-jin stared at that number.
'Floors containing the number 4 do not exist in this hotel.'
They'd been excluded since the design stage—that was the young Dokkaebi's explanation.
'It didn't seem like a lie, but something was being hidden.... Indeed.'
The elevator stubbornly insisted it was on the 14th floor.
'It seems the Dokkaebi and the hotel disagree.'
The elevator beside it was the same.
'14th floor.'
The one next to that, and the one after—all 14th floor. A space that should not exist was shamelessly emitting light, as though trying to prove its own existence.
"......"
Baek Mu-jin gazed at the row of numbers without a trace of emotion.
"...Deserves a compliment."
Quite an entertaining place to be staying, wasn't it?
It was rare for any being to approach him this brazenly. Whether this was mischief or a welcome, Baek Mu-jin closed his eyes and focused on the sounds of reality filtering into his ears.
Beyond the floor-to-ceiling glass, the sound of rain crashed down as if to swallow his vision.
'It's not only rain.'
Woven into the rainfall was a faint friction, like something dragging wet cloth across the floor. Baek Mu-jin pressed the elevator button. A momentary noise passed, but he didn't bother committing it to memory.
"...Hmm."
The doors opened.
'It's working.'
The air blowing from within was unusually frigid. A clammy humidity, as if soaked by rain, grazed the tip of his nose. A raw, musty smell—familiar and foreign at once.
Baek Mu-jin calmly regarded the elevator's dark interior.
'Rather heavy-handed for the young one's mischief.'
He'd encountered this air in a morgue before. The scent of a body freshly pulled from the water. Having reached that conclusion, Baek Mu-jin turned his body away.
'Then this must be the hotel's greeting.'
He drew a silver Zippo lighter from his inner breast pocket. Ching—a clear sound, and the wavering flame soon stood upright.
The small light illuminated the path ahead. Everywhere the glow touched, doors on either side of the corridor stood in perfect formation. An obvious and ordinary structure.
"......"
He took one step forward.
The flame didn't stir in the slightest, yet the shadows on the floor undulated with irregular life.
The corridor was impeccably dressed for its guests. Framed art that spoke to the manager's discernment, vases on side tables, elegant fixtures. All of them revealed their shapes as shadows in the darkness.
'How restless they are.'
As though they might speak up and declare themselves alive at any moment.
'Are they all landscapes?'
The frames on the walls all contained the same scenery. Each time the light grazed them, the trees in the paintings swayed minutely. Fluttering and shedding leaves as though caught in a spring breeze.
Such a corridor
caught his eye.
'Yes.'
It was orderly.
"......"
Baek Mu-jin eventually made his way to the central guest staircase.
He leaned over the railing and looked down. The stairs grew darker with each descending flight, submerged in pitch-black darkness until the bottom was invisible. That fathomless abyss stirred a faint impression.
'A gullet.'
A colossal gullet was impersonating a staircase.
'It seems to have swallowed light and space, and if that's the case, then that is....'
Several floors below the railing, something was detected clinging flush at an uncanny angle. The small flame of the Zippo in Baek Mu-jin's hand grazed that spot.
In that instant, the shape was revealed.
'A foot?'
What was exposed, white, was a human foot.
'No—something that merely looks human.'
Rather impressive, wasn't it? A remarkable talent for mimicry.
'Is that all of it, or is the rest simply invisible?'
The pale, smooth texture was vivid under the firelight. As though it had been submerged in water for a very long time, swollen and bloated. He felt again the sound of water he'd heard within the young Dokkaebi's lungs on the 23rd floor.
"A water wraith trapped in water has formed an attachment."
What a trying life to choose. Or perhaps it was simply a matter of taste. His curiosity about why this being insisted on holding the position of General Manager in such a hotel only deepened.
'Can't tell what goes on in that head.'
Baek Mu-jin heard the sound of water dripping like beads. The corpse-stench of something bloated with water was foul.
"......"
...Yes.
Perhaps that was the case.
"Unwholesome thing."
The small flame in his hand still cast its light.
As if it were no longer worth his attention, he withdrew his gaze and slowly moved on.
His next destination was the emergency stairwell. This, once again, was the only place where the lights were on. Baek Mu-jin extinguished the lighter and pushed his body through the door. The heavy steel door closed with a weighty thud.
Sound grew muffled.
"......"
Plod.
Plod.
The sound of footsteps descending.
"......"
The corridor lights flickered intermittently.
Baek Mu-jin descended with an expressionless face. Getting down to the 17th floor would take some time. Perhaps more time than expected.
Above him, on the landing one floor up, a white foot stood in stillness. A bloodless ankle, simply standing there. Without taking a single step.
Baek Mu-jin knew it was there.
But he did not look.
There was no reason to.
"......"
When he reached the 17th floor, the corridor door opened silently.
Smooth movements.
An immaculately ordered appearance without a speck of dust.
An unwavering smile.
"...A staff member?"
"......"
The thing bowed its head without a word. Then, with a gliding, elegant gesture, it indicated the direction. Seamless and precise—yet devoid of even a shred of humanity.
"I'm having quite a few interesting experiences today."
A part of a Labyrinth was, in the end, still a Labyrinth. A Labyrinth that knew how to 'interact' with humans was considered to be of high value. A Labyrinth that served while a Dokkaebi managed—what a hotel.
"Quite entertaining."
The gesture pointed to Room 9, where he would be staying. The thing froze like a mannequin, awaiting Baek Mu-jin's command.
"......"
"Off you go."
The staff member offered a bow of gratitude and walked ahead. Its footsteps made no sound.
"Your sense of self seems quite faint."
Baek Mu-jin cast the words into the silent corridor.
"And yet, too refined to call a miscellaneous spirit. If rationality this indistinct had been left unchecked, it should have long since corrupted and crumbled.... Is this also the influence of your second master?"
"......"
"A surprisingly warm-hearted friend. Then again, all Dokkaebi end up that way. Cherishing even these faint vestiges because they resemble humans. Insisting on treating them as people, as its own staff."
Baek Mu-jin's eyes narrowed.
"Should that kind master ever leave this nest... what would become of you all?"
That was when it happened.
"......"
"......"
The face of the staff member walking ahead turned toward Baek Mu-jin. Its body still moved forward, but its head had rotated at a grotesque angle to face completely behind it.
With a perfect smile.
A pristine face.
It grinned.
"......"
Is it loved?
"Whether that's anger or simply a malfunction...."
It began softly, pitifully.
Noise that had been spreading like faint ripples seeped out from between the empty guest rooms. Joyful laughter, conversations, the clink of champagne glasses... brimming with fullness.
It was as though an enormous party were underway, but Baek Mu-jin knew. There were not this many guests in this hotel, and beyond those doors, everything was empty.
'Heavy and muffled, as if underwater.'
The noise seeping from the walls, floor, and ceiling whispered something to Baek Mu-jin ceaselessly. But there was no way to understand the words uttered by vocal cords swollen with water.
Baek Mu-jin ventured a courteous guess.
"Does it cause displeasure?"
"......"
"But you don't possess that level of rationality."
"......"
"A peculiar place...."
He soon stood before Room 9.
"......"
The staff member had already vanished.
"Petty thing."
The moment he stepped inside the room, those festive auditory hallucinations also ceased.
***
Oh, incidentally.
The 22nd floor of this hotel was not a guest-room floor.
A Sky Lounge, was it...?
***
"How long have you been working at this hotel?"
"......"
At Baek Mu-jin's sudden question, Yeon-woo offered an unwavering smile. The face of a quintessential service professional—unreadable.
But internally, he was struggling.
'...How should I answer this?'
Including the time spent on resurrection, roughly five years. If he added his total in-game playtime, it exceeded thirty years. Either answer was wildly divorced from practical common sense.
Yeon-woo straightened the Dining setting and spoke.
"I consider it to have been no small amount of time."
"I'd guessed it must have been quite long...."
"I see."
"You're very hard to read, you know."
"......"
It was awkward.
A blow to his pride, but that was the reality. Yeon-woo's knowledge base was at the level of a newborn when it came to the world Baek Mu-jin was talking about—that unknown realm, at least.
But he couldn't disclose the truth, either. Even setting aside systemic restrictions, the fact that he'd been abducted to run a horror simulation game was far too peculiar.
'I'd rather not be abducted somewhere else and treated as a test subject.'
But could he simply keep his mouth shut entirely?
'Do you have any idea what the odds are of a guest with this level of information visiting this hotel again?'
Yeon-woo finished his calculation.
"When I came to my senses, I found myself serving as the General Manager here."
"You?"
"Yes, that's how it was."
"Your first memory begins here?"
"Not quite."
"What an intriguing riddle."
"I'm glad it came across that way."
"There's too much accumulated in this hotel."
"I see."
Yeon-woo didn't know much about Baek Mu-jin. All he had was the information that the man was a conglomerate chairman and Director Lee Seon-hae's uncle. But before even a full day had passed, he'd gotten a rough read on what kind of person this elderly gentleman was.
'He certainly speaks in poetic terms.'
A humanities major, presumably.
He'd have preferred a straightforward exchange of facts and figures, but as a working professional, he had no intention of forcing logic on an elderly guest. There were things to say plainly and things to bend.
Fortunately, Yeon-woo had scored well in Korean, too. Reading between the lines was well within his capabilities.
"I've done my best to manage the place, but I'm sorry to hear it came across as antiquated enough for the age to show. Was there anything among the services provided that caused you discomfort?"
= What could you possibly have seen in such a short time, sir?
"The smell of water was rather strong."
= You're keeping a Water Ghost.
"The smell of water.... I'm afraid I have no excuse. As we're currently in the Soft-Opening Period, there are areas where management is lacking. It seems I caused you discomfort during your movements."
= When, I wonder, did you encounter our household Water Ghost, who's been out of sight for some time now?
"Don't worry about this old man. I found it personally rather intriguing."
= You sure do live in a dump.
"......"
"......"
Yeon-woo poured the pairing wine. Baek Mu-jin savored the aroma in the glass and gave a slight nod. Keenly catching that moment, Yeon-woo asked with natural ease.
"Is the bouquet to your taste?"
"Do you produce the wine here yourselves?"
"Yes, it's a house wine we produce in small batches, optimized to draw out the ideal flavor profile for each dish."
"Quite... good."
"Would it be presumptuous to prepare a few bottles as a souvenir when you check out?"
"A welcome proposition."
"I'm glad you think so."
As expected, there wasn't a white-haired elder alive who was immune to a well-placed bribe.
'The older they are, the more susceptible they tend to be to flattery that's brazen and obvious.'
Fortunately, his professional social skills hadn't rusted. Judging by how readily the old man was playing along, he was unlikely to make a particular issue of this hotel.
'That's the best possible outcome given my position, where even my own identity is unclear.'
In a situation where he didn't even know which world he stood in, Baek Mu-jin had used a few bottles of wine as pretext to choose benevolent indifference. For Yeon-woo, it was an outcome he couldn't be more grateful for.
"Young man."
"Yes, please go ahead."
"Would you join me for a meal?"
"If it wouldn't trouble you, I'd be happy to keep you company."
"Please. Your staff here are all remarkably taciturn."
"Heartless friends, the lot of them—they won't even warm up to me."
"My, that must be lonely."
"On the other hand, there are none better when it comes to lending a silent ear to my ramblings."
Yeon-woo took the seat across from him. But he didn't particularly touch the food that was served. Baek Mu-jin, as though he'd expected as much, sampled a bite of his own dish and spoke.
"The smell of blood is awfully thick in a place where people are meant to rest."
"I apologize, but it's a trace I'm unable to fully eliminate on my own."
"No—you're doing quite well at it."
Gray eyes rested on Yeon-woo's face.
[Permit Presence Detection?]
[Yes/No]
"......"
[No]
"I was rude."
"Rude? I don't think so at all."
"I should have apologized yesterday. This old man got so absorbed in exploring the hotel that I committed a discourtesy. My apologies once more."
"Please think nothing of it. I consider it a perfectly natural curiosity for a guest to have."
"I was merely curious about how you manage it all."
Baek Mu-jin sipped the wine. Between yesterday's tea and now this, he was a man who liked having something to drink.
'Does he not enjoy eating?'
If so, a curious sense of kinship might form, Yeon-woo thought.
"The smell of blood was coming from you, too."
"I'm embarrassed that my poor condition was apparent to a guest."
"Let me ask. Do you truly believe this hotel can serve as a place of rest for people? Is your adoration of humanity so great that you desperately wish for someone to come and visit?"
"I'm not so arrogant or presumptuous."
"Then why do you go so far?"
He dabbed his lips with a napkin.
"How many times have you died in this place?"
"......"
How many times, he says.
"...I've never counted."
Given the nature of the game, dying was as natural as breathing.
The past five years aside, death had been routine across years of accumulated play data. The other man appeared to grasp this hotel through some kind of record. This was not territory for careless answers.
Baek Mu-jin nodded as though the silence told him enough.
"The history layered in this place runs far deeper than what's visible on the surface. That would mean the axis of time flowing within the hotel differs from reality. Isn't that so?"
Well, if in-game time and real time were identical, one had to wonder how that would work as a game.
"But from what I can see, that body of yours appears to be about... nineteen?"
Thanks to that, a biological age he'd only vaguely guessed at was now confirmed. It seemed the character's starting age had been preserved as-is. How unexpectedly helpful.
"This old man speaks with gratitude in his heart for saving his worthless niece. You—if you live as a human, you will be human. If you live as a beast, you will be a beast. If you live as a ghost, you will be a ghost."
"......"
"So please, live as you see fit."
"...Thank you for the advice."
And Yeon-woo thought to himself.
'If I say I'll live as a human, does my missing personhood come back?'
That was definitely something he was curious about. It seemed to have been gone for quite a while now.