Hoone featured a dizzying variety of collectible items.
"Memory Cards and Sealed Records are among them. There are items that can only be found here on the 14th floor, in the hidden Room 14. You're well aware of that too, of course, Coco."
"Yes, you too."
"I'm asking because I'm not entirely certain."
He'd lost far too much blood. With his brain operating at drastically reduced efficiency, he was deliberately speaking his thoughts aloud to organize them. Coco's responses served as a decent verification tool.
"Since I've successfully completed the test, it should be here now."
When the mini-game ended and the TV screen went dark, the old, rusted metal drawer supporting it had opened. Yeon-woo grasped the drawer handle.
"There it is."
Inside the space, which opened with only slight effort, were old photographs and documents.
"In the game... this was a non-interactive object until the test was completed."
"Yes, it can't be."
"I assumed it was just a background image and didn't even try touching it through my third playthrough. It wasn't until my fourth that I realized it was an element obtainable only after completing the puzzle."
"Yes."
"I was deeply displeased."
"Yes."
A secret uncovered only on the fourth playthrough. For someone who'd prided himself on meticulous play, it was a significant blow to his ego.
Yeon-woo flipped over the photograph he'd taken from the drawer.
"...Ah."
"Pardon?"
"No, a 'memory' came back."
Memory Card. An item that forced the recall of the 'memory' contained within the corresponding card. It was because of this item that early players had speculated the General Manager was a figure deeply connected to the hotel.
'Whether perpetrator or victim remains ambiguous.'
Perhaps it truly hadn't been human at all.
'Something like a surveillance camera—an inanimate object.'
No matter which Memory Card he examined, the narration was so excessively detached that the truth remained elusive. The screams of test subjects and researchers' records alike were described with the dryness of someone else's affairs.
That said, subjective emotional descriptions weren't entirely absent, which was why Yeon-woo had speculated it was a person.
"Memory Cards are always like this. The narrator feels like a ghost placed squarely in the middle of events. An observer detached from everything, and yet more deeply entangled than anyone...."
"......"
"It seems you have nothing to say about this."
"Yes."
An unsolved mystery even within the game. It might have been a part the developer never finished fleshing out, so it was perhaps only natural that Coco—a part of the system—couldn't answer.
"Right...."
Yeon-woo started to delve deeper into the 'memory' but stopped himself. This wasn't the time to bleed out while lost in contemplation. He'd already registered the data, so there was no risk of forgetting.
Having confirmed the Sealed Records were also logged in his archive, Yeon-woo rose.
"Let's head to where the blood packs are."
"Yes!"
"I hope they work."
Whether he could even ingest them properly was questionable to begin with. He'd only recently learned blood-drinking, and as someone who'd spent his entire life as an ordinary law-abiding citizen, he couldn't muster any confidence.
"—*Cough*!!"
"No!!"
And Yeon-woo vomited blood again. What a truly detestable penalty.
***
A cold laboratory. A man lay limp on a surgical table. Like a living canvas. A researcher was etching an intricate tattoo onto his arm. It was not a simple pattern but a form resembling a complex circuit diagram. With each line inscribed, the body swelled, and the skin gradually turned transparent, revealing the organs within. He writhed and groaned in pain, but no one acknowledged his suffering. The research team recorded the scene with expressions of satisfaction or thirst.
A cramped, dark room. A woman stood with metal fragments embedded throughout her body. Countless chains and shackles were connected to her, ceaselessly obstructing movement and inflicting pain. Past the limits of endurance, she slammed her head against the wall, gnawed at her own hands. Why she had to bear such agony, what crime warranted such punishment—it was unknowable. Only the understanding that the suffering her body endured was a ritual, an ordeal. The pain, conveyed as though transmitted whole, communicated the situation.
A massive liquid tank. Several human forms were submerged within. Their bodies had been grotesquely transformed, resembling parts of architecture. Limbs had hardened into pillars forming walls; faces had changed into ceiling sculptures. All had their eyes closed, yet one could sense instinctively that they were alive. The liquid in which they were submerged was slowly dissolving them, using them as raw material. Their existence was fading, yet they could not find salvation even in death.
This was an experiment and a ritual carried out through the longing of those who sought to achieve.
***
Wiping blood from his lips, Yeon-woo let out a low sigh.
"Well, now...."
Leaving the room where the CRT television had been, he found a narrow, elongated corridor. A dark passageway where all manner of dolls hung by their necks from the ceiling, dangling.
"Truly detrimental to one's mental health."
"Pardon?"
"I've lost count of how many times I've said this, but a game can only be enjoyed when it's a game. Even if I personally don't feel much from this kind of stimulus, that was when it wasn't real."
"Stimulus?"
"Yes, right now I feel it in a different sense. I'd say it's harder not to. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Why?"
"I'm an ordinary law-abiding citizen with a standard set of sensibilities. I think it's perfectly reasonable to feel unwell in a situation like this."
His reaction fell squarely within the bounds of common sense.
"Hello?"
"This is out of the blue, but I've been meaning to ask—Coco, have you been using 'hello' as a synonym for 'are you okay?'"
"Yes! No?"
"It's not wrong, per se."
It wasn't illegal, after all.
'Coco isn't exactly in a position where it needs to go out and function in society, and above all, I can more or less understand what Coco is saying....'
Honestly, that part did bother him slightly. Forced into close contact with the dangling dolls due to the narrow passage, Yeon-woo continued.
"During the tutorial, it was difficult to understand what you were saying. I asked you to repeat yourself many times. Do you remember?"
"Yes."
"But now, no matter how oddly you phrase things, I roughly grasp the intended meaning. Without even trying to analyze it. Conversely, I can't even explain why I understood it that way."
"Yes."
"...Let's chalk it up to my outstanding adaptability and reading comprehension."
Had something structural changed in him too, when the tutorial ended? Around the time he shook off that thought, the narrow passage ended.
"......"
And an even narrower path appeared.
"Ha...."
"Hello?"
"I suppose there's no reason I can't be well."
He already knew this path. He simply didn't want to take it.
Yeon-woo crouched down. The system's 'crouch' function seemed to be working, but a vicious wave of dizziness hit. The combination of a ruined body and excessive blood loss.
"I'm already dreading the moment I have to stand back up."
"Hello."
"I'll be careful."
"Yes."
His vision was already swimming. He was holding himself together, but the fact that a transfusion was urgently needed hadn't changed. He sighed and pushed his body into the impossibly tight ventilation shaft.
"Ngh...."
"Hello?"
"I'm embarrassed to say it, but I may need to eat my words."
"Pardon?"
"I may not be well after all."
Darkness so thick he could barely see ahead. The smell of dust stinging his nose, insect carcasses, and the texture of rotting flesh. He had to crawl through this from here.
'So dizzy I can barely tell front from back....'
Blink.
Two eyes gleamed through the darkness.
"......"
Yeon-woo let out a hollow laugh.
"...Only your eyes are visible right now."
"Eeh."
"What kind of structure are you in to be there?"
Given the Coco he knew, there was no way those two round eyes should fit within the field of vision of someone crawling face-down.
Vertically oriented, at that.
"If you drop all pretense just because I can't see you, I'll be hurt."
Coco was almost certainly not in its cat form right now. Yet nothing tangible touched his hands either. As though it had merged with the darkness itself.
Yeon-woo let out a small sigh against the pressing claustrophobia of the constricting shaft, then steeled his body again.
"I understand perfectly that you intend to help me."
"Yes."
Even looking like that, it was leading the way in its own fashion. So that Yeon-woo, in his wrecked state, wouldn't lose his way—using its own eyes as markers for him to follow.
Yeon-woo groaned as he dragged his body forward.
"...Thank you."
He was in no position to refuse kindness.
***
"......"
The gentleman in the burgundy coat tilted his head.
"......"
He passed the broken CRT television.
"......"
Making the sound of clinking tableware.
"Velmareth...."
Clink....
Clink....
***
A white ward suffused with cold.
From behind the latticed grate low on the wall, a damp noise seeped through. A clear sound like stepping in a rain puddle, yet far more viscous and heavy.
Soon, a vivid red liquid began flowing softly through the gaps, taking shape.
"—......"
It exhaled a hoarse breath and let its fangs graze the inside of its parted lips.
"...Getting difficult, is it?"
Coco, having resumed its cat form, trotted across the floor and answered.
"Yes."
"This is maddening."
It was now beyond anything that could be explained by mere hunger. A strange, unfamiliar emptiness he'd never experienced in his life clawed at his insides. He felt like nothing but an empty shell.
'I gambled too much.'
From halfway through the ventilation shaft, he'd lacked even the strength to crawl. His mind grew murky and the penalty intervals shortened. He'd concluded it would be impossible to reach the blood packs at this rate.
So he'd resorted to the same kind of insanity as when he'd rescued Director Lee Seon-hae.
"I never imagined I'd use the tool I brought hoping it might come in handy in this way."
"Yes...."
"How ironic."
He'd taken the chainsaw from his inventory, braced it against the shaft, and manually dismantled his own body to pass through.
"Hello?"
"Yes, I'm alive."
The chainsaw was a useful item obtainable without capital investment. Normally used to destroy blocked doors or passages, it couldn't be used for any other purpose in the game.
But he'd judged that in this reality-made world, no such restriction applied.
'A bit heavy, but the destructive power is reliable.'
Yeon-woo swallowed a sigh. The losses were severe. The chainsaw had to be left behind on the other side of the shaft.
"I'm now down to a mere 38% battery."
"Eeh?"
"That's how it turned out."
If only it were an actual phone battery—but this was blood, woefully insufficient to maintain a body. Still, Yeon-woo's gamble of prioritizing speed over preserving blood appeared to have paid off, more or less.
"I never thought I'd be this grateful for packs of someone else's blood."
Yeon-woo headed for the white refrigerator.
Opening its massive door revealed blood packs hanging in dense rows. In the game, they'd been background objects with no interaction possible, but now they were tangible reality in his hands.
"......"
With a brief sigh, he finally placed a pack between his teeth.
The fangs he'd pre-sharpened pierced the thick plastic with ease. A raw, viscous rush of blood flooded his mouth. Pack still clenched between his teeth, Yeon-woo slid slowly down the refrigerator wall and sank to the floor.
His breathing gradually steadied.
"......"
"......"
For a long while, the only sound in the ward was that of blood being swallowed.
"...Ha."
It was revolting.
"How unfortunate."
"Why?"
"It's delicious."
"Eeh."
"I've lost my mind."
He'd clearly gone insane.
"It's so good...."