Our Hotel Is Open for Business as Usual

"Hmm~"

A red spherical jewel glinted between rough, scarred fingers.

"What did they say this was again?"

"Blood, you dolt. Blood."

"Whoops."

Holding the 'jewel' up to the light, Kwon Seung-jae grinned with easy cheek and turned his gaze to Dan-cheong. Dan-cheong was coming toward him, a sharply cut suit draped over her lean frame.

"Our Director sure is a sharp dresser~ Suits you well, don't it?"

"Dammit. I'm already sore about wearing clothes the Labyrinth handed me, and you're fixing to give me more grief?"

"Well, the food here turned out fine, so the clothes'll be fine too. What of it."

"The clothes the 'Little Spirit' gave you not to your liking?"

"Well, I'll be. Would you look at this fucker?"

As befit an assassination consultant, his probing was malicious before it was clever.

"When a human bastard barks, it had better be worth more than his silence, you brat. Before you ruin a perfectly good talisman with those clumsy hands, put it round your neck and behave. You think it's every day a man gets refined 'blood' from a high-grade blood mage?"

The higher a blood mage's rank, the more their blood became poison to humans. But conversely, depending on the skill of a blood mage or an Alchemist, it could be reworked into medicine or a talisman.

This was precisely such a 'talisman.'

'Right up until the staff bastards came and handed it over, I'd wondered what it was.'

And here she'd thought blood mages with a craft like this had all but died out.

'And to think such a blood mage is presumed to be Velmareth, of all things….'

About the time Dan-cheong, thinking this, clamped an unlit cigarette between her lips, the door to another room opened. Lee Seon-hae walked out, the hem of her dress trailing across the floor.

"Wow, it's been ages since I put on a dress~"

"Won't it be hard to move around in?"

"It stretches better than it looks. And it's not long enough to trip over, either."

"It looks plenty long to me…."

"That's how it'd look to Writer Hong, who's never once worn a skirt. Don't go underestimating a veteran, is what I'm saying."

"When exactly would I have worn a dress? Please stop saying strange things."

Around the neck of Lee Seon-hae, in her red mermaid dress, hung the 'jeweled necklace' that Lee Yeon-woo had sent along through a staff member. Hong Gyeong-yeon's had come in the form of a watch and a tie pin.

Catching their eyes on her, Lee Seon-hae flashed Dan-cheong and Kwon Seung-jae a bright, easy smile.

"Well? Do I clean up nice?"

"Slicked your hair back—looks a fair sight better."

"All I did was tidy it up, though."

"It's just that your neck looks less itchy that way."

Dan-cheong shrugged. To Dan-cheong, who always kept a slicked-back short cut, Lee Seon-hae's mid-length hair must have seemed rather fussy. It was a thoroughly efficiency-minded view, fitting for the 115-year-old Director of the Sensitivity Bureau.

"Moving as smooth as you are, I take it the dress fits well enough?"

"They brought over so many—surely at least one of them ought to fit?"

"Funny how it all shakes out."

Then again, there wasn't a Labyrinth alive that didn't fuss over trappings like these.

Chewing idly at the filter of the unlit cigarette, Dan-cheong soon plucked it from her mouth and flicked it into the wastebasket.

"So when in the world are your menfolk coming out?"

"Mr. Cha the actor has a hold of the student, Kwon Do-heon, and won't let him go…."

No sooner had she said it than Cha Do-hyeon and Kwon Do-heon finally emerged from the room.

"You've got to square those shoulders, I said. Back straight, mind where your eyes go."

"Come on, it's not like I'm walking into an awards show…!"

"At least an awards show won't kill you for looking unbearable."

"What the fuck kind of party kills a man for looking unbearable."

"It's less a party than a funeral, honestly."

The two of them likewise wore their own 'jewels' about their persons. Seeing the state of them, Dan-cheong clicked her tongue.

"What's there to fuss over on a bastard with nothing to comb?"

"Now our Director's being cruel~ A student like Do-heon's got plenty to comb. The less it shows, the more you have to smooth it out—that's how you raise the finish."

"And what good's a high finish on a bastard headed to a funeral."

"If he's got to go, best he goes looking sharp, no?"

Listening quietly to their light yet ominous back-and-forth, Hong Gyeong-yeon quietly extracted just Kwon Do-heon from the group. Adjusting his glasses, Hong Gyeong-yeon said in a low voice,

"Ignore them."

"Yes, sir."

Kwon Do-heon caught his breath and glanced back at his uncle. Then his eyes went round.

"…? Uncle, what are you doing with all that stuff dangling off you?"

"Oh-ho, never seen a jewelry rack before?"

"I can't say I've seen a jewelry rack, but I'm quite sure they don't look like this."

"Calling your uncle 'this'—now isn't that going a bit far~…."

Kwon Seung-jae smiled ruefully.

Perhaps the figure Kwon Seung-jae had cut under the 'General Manager's' management had left a strong impression, because it was all the result of 'Lee Yeon-woo's' special arrangements. The staff had come and hung ornaments off his hands, his ears, his neck—everywhere.

"Still, doesn't the fine color make it look rather grand?"

"Whose color's fine, exactly?"

"Well, aren't you cold."

"For what it's worth, the good clothes do make you look like a movie star."

"Oh? What sort of role?"

"A mafia boss…?"

At that moment, Hyeon Si-gyeong slid up behind Kwon Seung-jae without a sound.

"I'm with you all the way, Skipper."

"Ugh, cut it out. You're making it weird."

Kwon Do-heon grimaced in distaste.

"What are those uncles even saying?"

"I'd rather not translate."

"And what's a Skipper?"

In the end, Dan-cheong cut in with a word of her own.

"It means captain, or ship's master. Bit of slang the American mafia fellows use now and again."

"So, a mafia boss?"

"Usually the word for the one who runs the muscle."

"I really am just picking up the weirdest trivia."

"Nothing wrong with learning a thing or two."

Shrugging the shoulder of her boxy suit, Dan-cheong went on.

"Shall we get moving, then."

***

Feeling the approaching presences through the Interface, Lee Yeon-woo—in the Operator's Quarters—blinked.

"……."

"It seems the guests have finished their preparations."

"So it appears to me as well."

"Hmm."

At the composed reply, the 'Guest Without Taste' made a show of eyeing Lee Yeon-woo's attire.

"Do you truly have no intention of dressing up a little more?"

"A General Manager entrusted with nothing but the hotel's operation has no business becoming the star of the banquet."

"And yet every guest gathered here came to see none but you."

"You look disappointed."

"An opportunity will come soon enough, so bear with it."

"Now I'm already dreading it."

Swallowing a rising sigh, Lee Yeon-woo crooked a finger.

One of the staff attending at his side stepped forward and respectfully handed him the Golden Bell. Gripping the cold, heavy metal, Lee Yeon-woo spoke as if murmuring.

"It seems everyone who was coming has come. Is that right?"

"They appear to have each taken their places."

"In that case."

He gave the bell a light shake.

"Let us show my guests in."

***

Ring—

The huge doors of the 2nd-floor grand banquet hall swung open smoothly of their own accord.

"……."

Kwon Do-heon blinked.

"I think I heard something like a bell just now…."

"That'll be young master Yeon-woo's toy."

"Ah, what?"

Kwon Do-heon wanted to take issue with the very title 'young master Yeon-woo,' but there was a word that piqued his curiosity more, so he asked a different question instead.

"A toy?"

"They say the General Manager carries a golden bell around."

Dan-cheong waved her hand, miming the shaking of something.

"Traditional Dokkaebi each carry one 'toy' that gives shape to their own craft. Artists can make something similar, but Korea's native Dokkaebi are born with theirs already on them."

"The more I hear, the stranger it gets."

"Once this whole business is over, you make sure to study up."

"I keep telling you, it's not that I'm stupid, it's that all of you—"

The moment they stepped over the threshold, an antiseptic air—like something you'd feel in an exhibition hall or a museum—settled heavily over the marble floor. Kwon Do-heon's gaze traveled slowly over the interior of the grand banquet hall.

"…Oh."

The first thing to catch the eye was the thick, ponderous carpet running across the center of the lobby like a python, so red it verged on black.

Over it flowed a classically arranged jazz melody. The enormous crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling scattered golden light in all directions, like frozen raindrops.

"What in the world is that."

"The ceiling being ungodly high, I'll grant you that…."

Kwon Seung-jae tipped his head.

"…Lighting, is it?"

At first he'd taken it for the sky.

That was how brilliantly thousands of crystals shone overhead. Those countless shards catching and reflecting light over and over left the uncarpeted marble floor gleaming a white so bright it stung the eyes.

But the truly uncanny part lay elsewhere.

"Well now."

The only figures reflected on the mirror-smooth marble floor were their own party.

"Are my eyes playing tricks?"

"No, I don't see much of anything either…."

Kwon Do-heon grew uneasy. It was a space so lavish it could blind you, yet somehow it raised gooseflesh.

"It's awfully quiet."

He didn't mean only in the auditory sense.

'There are other people… clearly here, too.'

No.

"……."

Were they people?

'Surely not.'

There was no 'sense of a living person' about them.

One of them gazed at the chandelier and tipped its head at precise three-second intervals; another had been swirling a wineglass and simply stopped. Nothing at all filled the transparent glass.

Not a single sound came from any of them.

"…Uh…."

Never mind conversation—not so much as a faint footstep or breath.

Even the refined music filling the space was no instrumental performance. In a grand banquet hall without a single speaker, the melody welled up as if the walls themselves were murmuring, pooling damp in the air.

Kwon Do-heon muttered with an uneasy face.

"Do we get in trouble if we talk…?"

"Doesn't look that way."

"I'm freaking out."

"That's about right."

"Somebody help."

Only a suffocating silence filled the gaps between the music.

"Bunch of freaks, the lot of 'em… spend every day warming ourselves at the Sensitivity Bureau's country hearth, and now here we are in a place like this."

Instead of the cigarette she wasn't holding between her lips, Dan-cheong brushed off her sleeve and swept her eyes over the lobby. What lay on her wrinkled face was less awe than the deep wariness peculiar to a seasoned veteran.

And in truth, the one who was really rattled was Hong Gyeong-yeon, a pure civilian.

"Director, would it be all right if I bolted right about now?"

"Think you could?"

"If I run into that feather monster you all mentioned, I can't promise I won't throw up."

"Honestly, throwing up might give you better odds of surviving."

"That's absurd."

Behind his lenses, Hong Gyeong-yeon's anxious eyes searched every corner of the surroundings.

"You make anything of it?"

"That it's… 19th-century Victorian Gothic architecture…?"

And then,

"At the very least, it's not a place built with 'humans' as the standard."

Here and there, structures of unknowable purpose and bizarre objects snagged at the eye.

"Or else they put in some effort, but didn't know 'humans' well enough, so it came out clumsy."

"I'd say it's the former."

"My stomach acid's trying to come back up."

"Swallow it back down."

Even as she said it, Lee Seon-hae rubbed Hong Gyeong-yeon's back. She looked over at Cha Do-hyeon and asked,

"That script—it's reliable, right?"

"'Lee Yeon-woo' didn't seem as prickly as the 'General Manager,' so it's probably fine."

It wasn't as though they'd come here without any measures at all. Before coming, through 'script work,' they'd gotten a rough grasp of the events and dangerous incidents that lay ahead.

And 'Lee Yeon-woo,' who was surely the Labyrinth's manager, hadn't gone out of his way to stop them.

"A considerate fellow, in his way."

Cha Do-hyeon clicked his tongue and stroked his jaw.

"But I still don't get why I'm the only one singled out for it."

"Because you've got a nasty streak."

"Director Lee, your treatment of me gets rougher by the day. Want me to ruin a film for you?"

"We both know you won't, so quit bluffing."

There were many reasons, but by now even the artist Lee Seon-hae understood: precisely because Cha Do-hyeon was an artist as an 'actor,' he was never the sort to ruin a work over his own spite.

"It's just, how do I put it…."

Lee Seon-hae knit her brows.

"I'm uneasy, is all."

"Want to turn tail and run even now?"

"Let's not do that."

"Don't go thinking of running alone. When we die, we die together, Director. Fellowship of fate, you know it."

"No, really, I just can't get a read on it."

Lee Seon-hae's expression twisted oddly.

"Why does this… get under my skin so much?"

"What?"

"It gets under my skin, I said."

For the moment, artist Lee Seon-hae's 'intuition' was telling her so.

"Feels like something's going to set me off later…."

"Truly, an artist is passable, as slabs of meat go."

"……!"

When Lee Seon-hae raised her head, Cha Do-hyeon pushed her back and shielded her.

"What business does the Count have with that slab of meat?"

It was 'Count Dracula,' who had taken a form somewhat resembling the General Manager's. He smiled at Cha Do-hyeon's blunt wariness and answered in a refined tone.

"I merely wished to greet the only 'Human Guests' at this banquet. As you'd know if you saw the invitation, the master of this space may be another, but this banquet is one I arranged."

"And you somehow let 'Human Guests' into a vampire's banquet."

"No need to be so on edge, is there?"

The old vampire crinkled his eyes into a leisurely smile.

"When we're playing the same little game."

"……."

Listening, Lee Seon-hae thought the thread of the conversation was somewhat off. She tried to check on the silent Cha Do-hyeon, but all she could see was his back, blocking her view.

Soon Cha Do-hyeon spoke again.

"So when does the banquet begin?"

"Now that every guest is seated, it's time to enjoy ourselves in earnest."

"Ah, is that so?"

"It would be lovely if you had some talents to show."

Presently that figure paled into the vampire's own true form, and he took a step back.

"'We' are fond of 'occasions,' you see."

When that figure vanished into the 'crowd,'

"Well now."

"Wh-what is it."

"Wouldn't you know he's of noble stock."

Dan-cheong clicked her tongue.

"A ball, no less. He does the whole nine yards."

In the very center of the banquet hall, the 'guests' paired off and began to dance.

***

If there were such a thing as pastel-hued fog spreading as though it might crumble at any moment, it would feel like this—so thought Lee Seon-hae. Everything was bright and splendid, yet somehow lacked any sense of reality.

The soundless beat of a waltz rang out.

"……."

It was less a dance than an elaborate puppet show.

Lush hems swept the floor, spreading out to trace perfect circles. Symmetry precise as if measured by ruler, movements like clockwork that allowed not a single second's error.

Their motions held none of the minute wavering or improvised suppleness peculiar to humans.

"Is this, maybe… kind of a dangerous situation?"

"Looks like we'll be fine so long as we don't catch anyone's eye."

"Whose eye?"

"Whose do you think?"

Cha Do-hyeon drew Lee Seon-hae a little further toward the edge and said,

"One of those monster-tags over there, most likely."

Among them there was none who gasped for breath, none who fumbled and hesitated with a tangled step. They merely glided gracefully along fixed orbits, like music-box dolls wound to the very end.

"Gyeong-yeon and the student, Do-heon—"

"Big sister Dan-cheong already dragged them off, far away."

"So I'm the only one who couldn't keep it together and got trapped here."

"More like the Count struck up a conversation and you missed your chance to slip out."

"Damn it."

"I'm stuck here with you too, so don't feel too hard done by."

What truly raised the gooseflesh was coming face-to-face with that elegance.

As a pair, man and woman, turned and passed by the front, their faces came clearly into view. The lips of the lavishly adorned 'guests' were curved into beautiful arcs, smiling without the slightest error.

But that was all.

"……."

"Don't make eye contact."

There was no light, no focus in their eyes.

"…And if I already did?"

Their vacant gazes were flung carelessly into empty air, and on their cheeks hovered only a plaster-cast pallor in place of a living human's flush. Not even the faint rise and fall of a breathing chest could be seen.

'I thought as much from the moment I realized there wasn't even the sound of breathing, but—they really aren't human.'

Amid the splendid light and sweet color, dolls danced a dance that would never stop, plaster smiles fixed in place. The uncanny valley conjured by that perfect beauty sent a chill down Lee Seon-hae's spine.

Belatedly, Cha Do-hyeon answered.

"We dance."

"Uh, come again?"

"We have to dance, I said."

He stroked his jaw as if at a loss.

"This isn't a part we guessed at in the script, which means it's not something likely to get you hurt, Director."

"I still don't understand how the thing even works."

"You mean you don't get the structure? No—anyway."

"You don't think this is a dangerous situation, Senior Cha?"

"It looks plenty dangerous to me, too. So why didn't we know about it?"

And this, when 'Lee Yeon-woo' had even permitted them to see the script.

"It looks a little like 'Count Dracula' had a hand in it, but if that were so…."

Among the 'guests' who had finished one dance, the one in the form of a man was drawing near them. It was the 'guest' whose eyes had just met Lee Seon-hae's.

"Could what set me off just now have anything to do with the current situation, by any chance?"

"If you can write this off as merely something that 'set you off,' then I'll have to reassess your nerve, Director."

"I don't suppose you could pick me up and run?"

"If it's to demonstrate what becomes of those who break the Labyrinth's rules, then sure?"

"This is maddening—everything and its mother is a rule around here."

Lee Seon-hae muttered that he could've told her to keep her eyes down beforehand. Glancing at her, Cha Do-hyeon rolled his eyes as if he couldn't take it and reached into the breast of his suit—

when a hand in a spotless white cotton glove slipped between the two of them and the 'guest.'

"Pardon me, honored guest."

"……."

"This one has a prior engagement with me."

It was Lee Yeon-woo.

"A short dance will soon end, and then the feast our Executive Chef has prepared will begin. I'm afraid my arrival has been terribly late. Would you allow me to spend even a moment with this lady?"

The 'guest' who had been gazing at Lee Yeon-woo bent at the waist and extended a hand. When Lee Yeon-woo laid his own upon it, the 'guest' pressed a kiss to the back of his hand and withdrew, its smiling face unchanged.

Watching it go quietly, Lee Yeon-woo turned to Lee Seon-hae.

"A pity to meet you like this, but—"

"…For my part, just meeting you at all is a relief, I'd say?"

"Might you spare me a moment of your time?"

Lee Yeon-woo offered Lee Seon-hae his hand.

"Allow me to help you."

***

Left standing all alone, Cha Do-hyeon muttered,

"They really snub me this hard?"

At this rate, it seemed he ought to start looking back at what mistake he'd made.

***

Led by Lee Yeon-woo, Lee Seon-hae walked into the crowd at the center of the banquet hall.

"Was I in a bit of danger just now, by any chance?"

"This is the first time the banquet hall has opened, but a rule called the 'ball' exists in this place."

"I'd appreciate it if you'd put that in plainer terms."

"Yes. You were in danger."

It felt exactly like becoming part of the fog.

"But I had no intention of leaving it so, and therefore you were never in danger at all."

Lee Yeon-woo said it in a neat, even tone.

All around, 'guests' with plaster smiles turned in flawless trajectories. The song that enchanted the ear was refracted through the dazzling crystal light, ringing somewhere faint and muffled.

"So relax."

"It's been a while since I danced anything like this."

"Even so, you have experience, which is a comfort to me."

"You're sneakily glib, aren't you."

"Director."

Lee Yeon-woo carefully rested a hand on Lee Seon-hae's waist and whispered low.

"It's all right."

"…Is it?"

"It's nothing more than a play that repeats forever in this hotel."

His voice was so strangely calm that it felt like the only reality in this unreal space. Lee Seon-hae's stiff shoulders eased a little.

"……."

"Let's match our steps."

The two of them began to fall into step.

"One, two, three…."

"……."

"Splendid. You're doing well."

Lee Seon-hae let out a startled laugh.

"Feels like my body's moving on its own."

"That wouldn't be your imagination."

"Does this have to do with that 'play that repeats forever' you mentioned?"

"Let's think of a game. Imagine there's a game made of crude pixels."

They were close enough to feel each other's breath, yet Lee Yeon-woo's movements never strayed a hair's breadth outside the bounds of the 'rule.' Perfect angles and distances kept as if measured with a ruler.

"It's so crude that the dancers' individuality vanishes, and being so shoddy, everyone's dance looks the same. This is a 'cutscene' used in the banquet hall every time."

Lee Yeon-woo, too, slid smoothly and gracefully among the crowd as though he were part of this bizarre, elegant music box. But there was one decisive difference.

Whereas the human dolls filling the surroundings stared into empty air with unfocused eyes, Lee Yeon-woo's eyes held only Lee Seon-hae, fixed squarely upon her.

"Don't look at your surroundings. Look at me."

"I had nowhere to rest my eyes anyway."

"Then that's a relief."

Lee Seon-hae met that gaze of his.

The scenery around them spun, leaving dizzying afterimages, yet Lee Yeon-woo's gaze alone became a firm axis, holding her steady so she wouldn't lose her center.

The subtle pressure conveyed through the spotless white cotton glove, and the regular steps.

"……."

Lee Seon-hae found she wanted to ask. How many times had he repeated this 'cutscene'? How long had he been shut up in this 'hotel,' going on with how many 'plays'?

But what came out of her mouth was a different question.

"…You said it was dangerous—so was I nearly made into an Offering too?"

"The possibility wasn't nonexistent."

"Isn't that too much? Dance because you made eye contact, and dance means becoming one with this 'play.'"

"Even had it come to that, I'd have been able to wake you, so don't worry."

"I really do feel like I'm having a strange dream."

Within the spiraling orbit of the waltz, the two of them gradually came into perfect sync with the dolls surrounding them. More precisely, Lee Yeon-woo was making it appear that way.

"This place is frightening."

To all appearances, Lee Yeon-woo too was as flawless as part of a wound music box.

"The others said even this much is miraculously kind, though…."

"I understand."

"I suppose it would be."

Amid that dance, the hand in the spotless white cotton glove crossed with Lee Seon-hae's, and the regular sound of brushing hems filled the banquet hall.

"In the end, the 'kind one' must be you, Mr. Yeon-woo."

"You flatter me."

Lee Yeon-woo brought the dance to a flawless close so that Lee Seon-hae never missed a single step, yet showed not the slightest opening to the watching eyes around them.

"I'm only taking the responsibility I ought to take."

It was the moment the song reached its climax. The waltz melody, which had stretched and warped as muffled as sound underwater, suddenly regained its clarity and rhythm with a sharp noise, like a windowpane shattering.

CRACK—!

"……."

"Oh dear."

The faint dissonance that had grated on the ears vanished, and the banquet hall's music returned to a slow classical piece as if nothing had happened. The change in the music meant the end of 'dance time.'

"I'll have to adjust this later…."

Timed to the moment the last note stretched long and stopped, Lee Yeon-woo and Lee Seon-hae's steps also halted, tracing a perfect arc. Looking down at her, he said,

"Is anything troubling you?"

"Aside from my ears hurting a little?"

"My apologies for the trouble."

Lee Yeon-woo withdrew his hand from Lee Seon-hae's waist, released the hand he'd been holding, and stepped back half a pace. As the spotless white cotton glove came away, cool air wrapped the back of her hand as if the warmth had been cut off.

The guests around them dispersed naturally as well, returning each to their own places.

"For the remaining time, you need only enjoy the banquet our Executive Chef has prepared."

"And this 'cutscene' wasn't that Executive Chef person's doing?"

"The 'cutscene' of this banquet hall was already here, but I can't guarantee he had no intention of making fools of you."

"He's a spiteful sort."

"I agree."

Lee Yeon-woo bowed at the waist in courteous respect and looked at Lee Seon-hae.

"The short dance I promised ends here."

He wore his particular, exquisite smile.

"Enjoy the Executive Chef's feast, and soon…."

"There's something I'm curious about."

Clasping her own cooled hand, Lee Seon-hae asked,

"Is anyone going to get hurt today?"

"……."

Lee Yeon-woo answered a beat late.

"No."

"Can I believe that?"

"That would be the part I'll have to work at."

He crinkled his eyes into a foxlike smile.

"We'll meet again after this, and I hope you won't be too startled then."

"What—what are you planning to do?"

"Only to dress up a little to suit the play. As I mentioned before, once the main performance begins, I ask for your kind cooperation."

"Mr. Yeon-woo? Hello?"

"I've confirmed for myself that there's no problem with the meal, so please enjoy it without worry."

Having said his piece, Lee Yeon-woo turned away without lingering.

"Now, if you'll excuse me—I still have things to attend to."

"No, wait…."

"I hope you have a pleasant time."

Lee Seon-hae could only watch in silence as he slipped smoothly away into the crowd, clutching the odd sensation left on the back of her hand.

***

Right afterward, Lee Yeon-woo, who had come to the waiting room behind the banquet hall.

"No."

"Coco."

"Hmph. No."

"Coco, this is quite enough."

"No."

"Coco?"

What awaited him was a fashion show with no sign of ending.

"No."

"……."

Rejected on his outfit yet again, Lee Yeon-woo could no longer hold back his own lament.

"If only crows didn't love shiny things, this would've been over in half the time."

"Hehe! No!"

"You wicked cat."

Having thus chided Coco, Lee Yeon-woo turned to the 'Guest Without Taste.'

"What was the point of showing yourself in front of my guests?"

At the question, the old vampire—who had been standing off to one side of the waiting room the whole time, watching Lee Yeon-woo—crinkled his eyes like a crescent moon and smiled.

"I merely prepared a small event. They too ought to know who the master of the work they'll soon be greeting is. Consider it a little courtesy on my part."

"It doesn't sound especially nice."

"It's not especially likely to look nice, either."

"Then what have you done so well that you're smiling about it?"

Lee Yeon-woo pulled on a glove and went on.

"Artists and Labyrinth folk like you both—there are times you make me question your vocabulary."

"In my defense, that likely isn't truly down to a poor vocabulary."

"Which means it's down to your character. Speaking of vocabulary, doesn't it bring to mind when you first entered this hotel? You've no idea how odious you were."

"You speak now as if that's no longer the case."

The 'Guest Without Taste' smiled brightly and looked at Lee Yeon-woo.

"It suits you rather well."

"Have you lost your mind?"

Lee Yeon-woo protested with red eyes.

"This state—being a clothes rack?"

A white ruffled shirt evoking the white nightgown the 'Lover of Dawn' wore. A jet-black corset cinched tight at the waist. Black evening trousers fitted snug to the line of his legs.

And on top of it all, a thick coat lavishly worked with silver-thread embroidery and white-silver ornaments.

"If you said that in earnest, I can only doubt your aesthetic sense."

"At the very least, isn't it the sort of look the 'Lover of Dawn' would be fond of?"

Even Lee Yeon-woo couldn't quite argue with that.

"……."

"It is, isn't it?"

As one who had shared blood with them, Lee Yeon-woo could vouch that the humans sacrificed to the 'Lover of Dawn' had, without exception, been beautiful and splendid. It was indeed an uncompromising taste, fitting for the epithet 'crow.'

Lee Yeon-woo couldn't bring himself to meet his own eyes in the mirror.

"Come now, why not look for yourself?"

"I haven't the courage to face myself bleached and wearing lenses just to seduce one young friend. What a shameless spectacle this is."

"Don't you think that's rather a stretch?"

The other party was neither young nor a friend. Moreover, he had neither bleached his hair nor put in lenses. This ruthless General Manager had simply gone and manipulated his own 'body' to produce an albino state.

"Broadly speaking, the 'seducing' part may well be accurate, but…."

"Having even taken your opinion into account, I've ended up like this—so if I fail to catch the 'Lover of Dawn's' eye, you'd best brace yourself. I can't be sure the version of me after all this is done won't hold a grudge against you, even if the current me wouldn't."

"Frightening words. But as for drawing its attention, you needn't worry in the slightest."

Having once more looked Lee Yeon-woo over from head to toe, the 'Guest Without Taste' added in a low voice,

"For it's a look the 'Lover of Dawn' couldn't bear to leave out of its collection."

Recalling his own past self, who had been willing to swallow 'Velmareth' whole even if it were a gamble, it was a point he could affirm without much difficulty.

A Labyrinth is not a living creature. It is closer to a kind of 'phenomenon,' formed under particular conditions.

"We find it hard to endure a thing we wish to possess."

"By 'we,' do you mean the Labyrinth?"

"Correct. In this country you'd call it a 'Dokkaebi,' I believe."

"Is that also tied to 'identity'?"

"In a sense, yes."

For,

"……."

had he been wise enough to endure such a thing, would he have become a demon like this in the first place?

"……."

"…Haa…."

Lee Yeon-woo pressed hard at his temple.

His head already ached over the mess his 'General Manager Mode' self had made, and now the old vampire before him leaned on his cane, sending over a look of quiet insinuation.

What lay in those eyes was plain indulgence, and an odious sort of amusement.

"Standing there wearing such a piteous face before a busy Manager will get you nothing from me but a notice of the rotation schedule for a nutritionally balanced menu."

"Dear me, you're more practical than I imagined. And your sensibilities have run dry, too."

"Surely you aren't waiting for some paltry word of comfort to fall from my lips—'how pitiable, to be saddled with such a fate,' or 'how lonely you must have been.'"

"I can't say I wasn't waiting for it, no."

The vampire gave a light shrug.

"Didn't this fellow behave rather commendably this time? I'd hoped you might look on me with a little fondness."

"I know you're not foolish enough to want such empty warmth."

"Yes—in truth, I was simply curious."

Stroking the head of his cane, the 'Guest Without Taste' smiled softly.

"How you, of all people, might define the lot of this monster—who spent a whole life craving nothing but blood, only to be handed back, over one dish with a trace of warmth in it, the irrational agonies of appetite and emotion."

"This is my personal opinion, but probing a person like that doesn't look good. It really was just a personal opinion, so feel free to let it pass. Yes—define it, you say…."

Lee Yeon-woo let out a weary sigh and leaned his back against the wall.

"……."

After a moment spent ordering his thoughts, he spoke.

"Speaking within the bounds of what I know—losing your sense of taste doesn't mean the joy and worth you enjoyed at every table lose all their meaning too."

"Hm?"

"Even having lost your taste, aren't you the sort who can read, more keenly than anyone, the time and effort of the cook laid out on the plate, and the crumb of a loaf that boasts its perfection?"

Without at least that much of a gift, the 'Guest Without Taste' would have found it hard to work as a cook.

"That, too, is a supremely arrogant and dignified form of… appreciation. One only you can manage."

His tone was slow and dry, but the sentence did not waver.

"You call humans slabs of meat and mock yourself as a monster, but to my eye you look like a rather refined egoist, thrashing not to forget the traces of the body you once had."

"……."

"So stop unsettling people with such a woebegone look."

Lee Yeon-woo gazed steadily at the face of the Guest Without Taste.

"That honor and pride of yours aren't so flimsy as to crumble merely because one sense is missing."

"Well, well…."

The old vampire's eyes narrowed for an instant.

"Merciless, and tender."

"Is that praise, or an assessment?"

"Shall we call it both, for now."

"Then I'll politely decline just the praise."

Lee Yeon-woo pressed and smoothed his furrowed brow as he spoke.

"To begin with, I'm not good enough a person to deserve praise in a conversation like this."

"Is there a reason you think so?"

"I…."

He rolled his eyes, then swept a hand over the corners of his eyes, which had grown sore under the lights. Perhaps for want of pigment, even a little light stung his eyes especially.

"…I still don't quite understand."

Just what,

"the standard is that divides what's human from what's not."

Even now, after learning and learning again.

"There are people who lose their former shape to illness or accident. There are those born with below-average ability, and those who lack emotion. There are more than a few in the world called monsters for being intelligent beyond a certain measure."

Lee Yeon-woo looked straight at the 'Guest Without Taste.'

"And among them, surely, are people who've lost their sense of taste."

"Of course."

"So what makes one human, and another not? Does undergoing that process called 'Labyrinth-ification' make a being no longer human? What is the standard that defines that 'monster,' that 'demon'?"

Appearance? Ability? Emotion? Or memory?

"If there's a reason I ought to see you as a demon, tell me."

"And if I told you—what would happen then?"

"I'd change."

At least by that much.

"Because I'll keep trying to learn."

"Aha."

Grinning as if satisfied, the 'Guest Without Taste' said,

"I'm glad you've come back to the self I knew."

"Is that so."

Lee Yeon-woo neither affirmed nor denied it.

"It's my pleasure."

For to him, nothing at all was a relief.

"Shall we go now? I'll escort you."

"That part I'm not so glad about."

"By now the formal dinner and welcome speech will have finished, too."

"You prepared even that far…."

On the shoulder of Lee Yeon-woo as he stepped out of the quarters,

"……."

Coco, who shared his thoughts, quietly curled up.

"No…."

Lee Yeon-woo couldn't answer.

***

I killed people every day.

People defined by me as 'players.'

They were always palm-sized people, whose eyes met mine from beyond the screen.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!