Chapter 184

"To put it simply,"

Tap—

Cha Do-hyeon's long finger lightly poked the completed script.

"We make it glitch."

"In other words, we're going to make the 'General Manager' malfunction."

Hong Gyeong-yeon naturally layered on the supplementary explanation.

"I've been so busy writing nothing but cue sheets this whole time that I was hardly able to think straight, but when I gathered together the past records, I could make out the overall picture, more or less."

"And what sort of picture would that be?"

"Assuming that the protagonist of this episode is student Kwon Do-heon, unexpected additions kept piling up one by one, and the situation has been gradually veering away from the General Manager's plan."

At the exchange between Hong Gyeong-yeon and Kwon Seung-jae, Lee Seon-hae shrugged and chipped in.

"What that means is the General Manager is furious right now."

"Furious…."

Dan-cheong stroked her chin and murmured the word low.

"But 'fury' should not be an element included in the General Manager's behavioral pattern. Am I remembering correctly?"

"Exactly."

Lee Seon-hae nodded.

"The concept that constitutes the being called the General Manager is inherently firm. He must be the perfect, flawless master of this hotel. And yet, if 'anger'—a thoroughly private and human emotion—intrudes upon that?"

"That in itself becomes a clear systemic error."

"Right. It's a bit awkward to put it this way, but the General Manager isn't a living, breathing creature—he's closer to one enormous structure that sustains this hotel."

"Hmm. So you intend to create a crack in this labyrinth's system, agitate the infant Dokkaebi trapped within, and ultimately drag it out?"

Lee Seon-hae affirmed Dan-cheong's summary.

"Yes. If the 'General Manager' truly is a being made from our Mr. Lee Yeon-woo tangled together with what you've all described as 'The Devil,' then this is a gamble with more than enough odds."

"Enough odds, you say. You think so?"

"In the end, fury is something only a living creature can feel."

"Our Director here has been putting her head to good use."

The Director grinned with apparent interest.

"Getting the hang of it now, are you, Miss Baeksan?"

"No, it's not quite like that…."

As Lee Seon-hae smiled awkwardly, Cha Do-hyeon beside her put on a deliberately wounded expression.

"I'm the one who gave the advice, and you're all ignoring me."

"What an actor does is advise—would you call it scriptwriting?"

"But I'm the one who brought back the intel on Room 444."

Cha Do-hyeon's lips drew their trademark crooked arc.

"The General Manager's true body is this hotel."

That was the critical piece of intelligence they had brought from Room 444.

"I also found out a few things about 'Lee Yeon-woo.' Our student Kwon Do-heon has excellent eyes. Shook the place down thoroughly."

"When you put it like that, it sounds like I'm some kind of petty thief."

Kwon Do-heon, his face a mix of chagrin and sheepishness, looked down at the "traces" he had brought from Room 444 and spread across the table.

"……."

"Hoot."

"I did bring back quite a lot, though."

He couldn't deny it.

"It seems that place was a resting space for the person called 'Lee Yeon-woo.'"

"A resting space?"

"Tch, how should I put it? There seemed to be more space beyond, but we couldn't get there. Something like a section attached to a guest room, like the room we're in now… an area adjoining the suite…."

"What in tarnation is that supposed to mean?"

It was Cha Do-hyeon who answered in Kwon Seung-jae's stead.

"Roughly a lounge or a break room?"

"Good heavens, it's a proper company after all? A break room and everything?"

"In terms of its raison d'etre, it's about that level."

"So then."

Kwon Seung-jae, with his easygoing face, scanned the papers strewn across the floor.

"Are these the things? The items that came along whenever you found the 'mementos' up to now?"

"Reading through a few, they seem to be part of the one year I lost. That is, they look like records that the person called 'Lee Yeon-woo' had been meticulously organizing from the moment I arrived at this hotel…."

Kwon Do-heon rolled his eyes toward the antique dial telephone sitting forlornly in one corner of the room, its line still unplugged.

"There's something like a code written down, too."

"Would you look at that—you were even close enough to have a code, in the middle of all this?"

"There was a note saying that if the bell rings even though the phone line is unplugged, it definitely isn't a normal call—take a look at this, too."

Having cleanly ignored his uncle's barb, Kwon Do-heon handed the memo he'd been holding to the other adults.

"See, it's written right here."

"That does make sense."

Dan-cheong nodded, scanning the neat handwriting that filled the paper.

"Dokkaebi pranks—"

"Recognition Species."

"Recognition Species' pranks typically pay no mind to human standards. It's because their understanding of humans is low. Either that, or adjusting to human common sense is itself beneath their dignity."

Having stably deflected Hyeon Si-gyeong's razor-sharp correction, Dan-cheong studied the memo closely.

"By contrast, this infant Dokkaebi—"

"Lee Yeon-woo."

"Right—that Lee Yeon-woo fellow doesn't seem to have a particularly low understanding of humans."

"He likes humans."

When Hyeon Si-gyeong, for once, dropped a proper sentence, Hong Gyeong-yeon nodded with a sour expression.

"He doesn't dislike them… no."

"Is that so?"

"At the time, both the Director and I felt he was closer to the kind side. There was a sense that he was constantly fretting over whether we might be harmed by the other Monster Guests."

"Seems he's somewhat aware that humans are softer and more fragile compared to him or his guests."

The Director waved the memo and asked.

"Then what's this here, pray tell?"

『Have you plugged the line back in?』

"Is this that code or whatever? The phone line?"

"Probably…? I honestly don't know the context it came up in either, but it feels like a code. My sunbae-nim agreed too."

"Hoot."

Atop Kwon Do-heon's head, Seome blinked in affirmation.

"It's written right there."

『The concrete fact that the room's phone line is physically severed is difficult for external entities to know perfectly unless they are eavesdropping in real time, which gives it a certain usefulness.』

"Of course, judging by the way 'a certain usefulness' was tacked on, he doesn't seem to have rated its reliability very highly. From the nuance of what's written, it seems Lee Yeon-woo… wasn't the one who proposed it first."

"Hoo."

"She says that's correct."

At that, Kwon Seung-jae nodded.

"Considering the caliber of the 'guests' here, it's not an entirely trustworthy code. When there are plenty of bastards who'd notice from the other side of the planet just by hearing their own name called, do you think they wouldn't know about some fiddling done while hiding in a room?"

"But the fact that he didn't refuse outright suggests he judged it had some use, doesn't it?"

"That's probably… because the nature of this labyrinth was factored in."

Hong Gyeong-yeon nodded in agreement with Kwon Seung-jae's words.

"For monsters of that caliber, they're remarkably unwilling to step outside the role of 'guest.' They could break free at any time if they wished, but it's more that they deliberately choose not to."

Before Hong Gyeong-yeon still lay the script.

"Being able to peek at the 'White Crow's' memories is one thing, but more importantly, the fact that it doesn't receive the General Manager's full protection tells us everything. This hotel holds the upper hand."

"Once you're branded by the General Manager as 'not a registered guest,' the penalties pile up in various ways. In that sense, it's not so different from an ordinary hotel in reality."

"If a guest causes a disturbance or inconveniences others, having hotel services restricted is a matter of course."

"In that light…."

Lee Seon-hae glanced at the memo and continued.

"It could mean they truly don't know. Within the established rules, it may be natural for the 'guests' here not to know the private affairs of others' rooms—or even if they do know, pretending otherwise may be the 'etiquette' of this place."

"Good heavens, what a peculiarly run labyrinth."

The Director clicked her tongue with a sour face.

"So when is this code supposed to be used?"

"Maybe the day will come someday…?"

Kwon Do-heon mumbled in an uncertain voice.

"So, what I'm saying is, this is about the extent of what we brought back from Room 444."

A single phrase that might be a code, traces that Lee Yeon-woo seemed to have deliberately left behind, and things like "inspiration" that enabled additional scripts to be written.

And,

"That, too."

"Ta-da."

"What in the holy hell is that now?"

Dan-cheong's gaze landed on the pure-white fish floating and swimming above Cha Do-hyeon's palm.

"Is that the thing? The one the Aqua Park water ghost wanted brought to her?"

"I'm not sure if it's exactly this, but that water ghost wanted a gift on par with the one given to the 'Guest Without Taste.' And what the vampire received was a piece of the 'White Crow's' flesh, true, but…."

Cha Do-hyeon looked at the fish in his hand and added.

"It's also the blood and soul of the being called 'Lee Yeon-woo.'"

He gestured with his eyes toward the memo papers spread across the table.

"Read those and you'll get a rough sense of it."

"So you're saying that Lee Yeon-woo fellow is sitting inside the 'White Crow' right now?"

"A part of him, it seems."

"Good heavens, what manner of Dokkaebi loves humans this much?"

The Director clicked her tongue, then immediately reconsidered and added.

"Well, they are a breed that likes humans by nature."

At that, Hong Gyeong-yeon let his curiosity show and asked.

"This being called a Dokkaebi—is it the same Dokkaebi we commonly know from folk paintings and fairy tales?"

"More or less. It's been somewhat romanticized as the legends were passed down, but in the fundamental sense that they're a species that enjoys socializing with people, it's close enough."

"If it's been romanticized, in what way…?"

"The fact that no matter what they do, they're inherently dangerous to humans?"

The Director shrugged nonchalantly.

"The younger the Dokkaebi, the worse it is. They have absolutely no concept of how fragile humans are. They pester you into a bet and lay waste to a person's entire life, challenge you to a contest of strength and tear off limbs, or twist someone into a hideous shape just for not being honest…."

"Our Yeon-woo isn't like that."

"How long has he known the man to be calling him 'our Yeon-woo,' honestly."

The Director, irritably scrubbing her chin, went on.

"And that's exactly what it means for Dokkaebi as a species to be thoroughly self-centered. The younger they are, the worse it gets. Even a human child believes the world revolves around them when they're small—imagine how bad a newborn Dokkaebi must be."

"Even so…."

"But this one split off its own flesh and shoved it into the 'White Crow.' The intent is plain to see, is it not? No matter how the thing ignores every rule of the labyrinth and rampages, the real reason the 'White Crow' can't directly harm us is precisely because of that."

"You're saying it's because of 'Mr. Lee Yeon-woo' dwelling within that monster?"

"Exactly. You catch on quick."

As Dan-cheong nodded with satisfaction, Lee Seon-hae beside her blinked.

"Then it really is a gamble."

"A gamble?"

"I don't know how much student Do-heon has grasped, but… the 'script' we all put our heads together to write, in the end, boils down to this: make Yeon-woo so furious he comes back to his senses."

Lee Seon-hae waggled a finger.

"The problem is, once that happens, the 'White Crow' will be harder to control. Yeon-woo's no fool—if he tore away his own blood and soul to feed it, it means there was truly no other way to suppress that monster."

Having said this, Lee Seon-hae added.

"And as far as I know, Yeon-woo is not the foolish type."

Hong Gyeong-yeon, the color draining from his face in an instant, asked.

"Are we going to die?"

"Writer Hong, I'll go before you do, so keep that worry in check."

"Is that supposed to mean 'don't worry'?"

"What else would it mean?"

Lee Seon-hae said quietly.

"In the end, it'll be one of two things. Either we destroy with our own hands the last failsafe Lee Yeon-woo put in place and all go down together, or that man saw this far ahead and we reach a dramatic happy ending."

At that, Cha Do-hyeon poked the fish swimming in his hand with a finger and asked.

"Is that Dokkaebi friend really that shrewd? Shrewd enough to have calculated how the 'General Manager' would respond?"

"He's the type who gets done what he sets out to do, come what may."

"Well, well…."

Sway.

A transparent fin traced a gentle arc through the air and rippled.

"Greedy one, isn't he."

* * *

"You know the saying that fish can't live in water that's too clean?"

Cha Do-hyeon, in a haphazardly thrown-on school uniform, tossed the words out.

"Well, you'd obviously know."

"You think there's something I know that you don't?"

"Bastard, fuck—every last word of yours is a goddamn jewel."

"'Jewel'—珠玉—is written with the character for pearl, 珠, and the character for jade, 玉, literally meaning pearls and jade, and is used as an expression of the highest praise to describe works or writings of extraordinary value and beauty…."

"An intellectually malicious bastard."

Not an ounce of give in him, not one bit. While he grumbled inwardly, ■■■ asked.

"So, why bring that up?"

"Sometimes I think you might be a bit like that."

If you're too straight-laced, you'll snap.

"Live a little more flexibly, will you."

"Should I really be hearing that from you?"

"God, seriously."

"Anyway."

The person cut in with a dry, humorless tone.

"You've got it wrong."

The timbre that followed, at least, was calm and composed.

"Fish fundamentally thrive far better in cleaner water, and the species become more diverse. For clean-water species like cherry salmon, lenok, Kumgang minnow, and willow shiner, it's actually the healthiest possible habitat."

"……."

"Have you heard of dissolved oxygen levels? The clearer the water and the more constantly it flows in the upstream, the more abundant the oxygen dissolved within it. And oxygen is, of course, the essential condition for any living thing to breathe."

A calm gaze turned toward Cha Do-hyeon.

"It's the murky water that's dangerous."

"…Is that so."

"In water that stinks of rot and is depleted of oxygen, even fish can't survive."

"You sure know a lot, even about stuff like this."

"In polluted water of Class 4 or below, most fish species can't live at all."

"Well, look at the professor."

It might have been a little obnoxious of him, now that he thought about it.

"Water that appears abnormally clear due to strong acid or heavy-metal contamination is a different case that can be explained separately…."

"What's that about now?"

"You weren't about to say that I'm a person like acid or heavy metals, were you?"

"Do I look that well-read to you?"

"Fair point."

A soft laugh could be heard. That laugh, at least, sounded quite comfortable.

"I know what you meant by it. Suicheong mudaeeo—水淸無大魚. 'When the water is clear, there are no big fish; when a person is too exacting, no one will follow.' A proverb satirizing the art of getting along in human relationships."

"Yeah, bro. That's the one."

"Personally, I think I'm getting along better than you are."

"Someone this obnoxious, really?"

"In the end, isn't it all just excuses people made up?"

Suicheong mudaeeo. ■■■ continued in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Life flourishing in a clean, pure place is the natural order of things. But because humans inevitably grow murkier the more they gather, they invented excuses to justify that pollution."

"What kind of excuses?"

"That it can't be helped. That trying to live cleanly is what's actually wrong."

So,

"If you're worried, just say you're worried."

"……."

And so.

"What changes if I do?"

"Not much, probably."

"Then it's pointless."

"But wouldn't it make me happy?"

And so you are.

"To know that a friend was worried about me."

You, ■■■.

Uselessly stubborn.

In front of you, I couldn't bring myself to get dirty.

* * *

"……."

Cha Do-hyeon swept back his damp hair.

"…Feels like I had one hell of a dream."

▶ [■■ 상■ ■■■ ■■ 중… 2■%]

"Can't quite remember."

Even so, the compulsion to recall it drew an involuntary empty sigh.

"What kind of trick is this?"

What kind of trick, that it makes me want to kill everyone like this?

"Hm?"

Cha Do-hyeon couldn't hold back a laugh.

Nowhere to be seen was the fish he'd caught.

The white fish that had lived in clean water, that is.