Chapter 188

She received the Teacher's first summons.

"Ah…."

What a magnificent place, she thought.

Resplendent golden lighting and an antique interior punctuated by refined intaglio. But to the fox's eyes, the harrowing essence beneath that graceful camouflage was all too nakedly visible.

This vast citadel stood upon the crushed flesh of thousands—tens of thousands—of humans.

'Beautiful.'

Screams and wails that intoxicated even the sense of sight.

'What splendid harmony.'

Fear and sorrow, fury and betrayal. Highly refined negative emotions packed the interior to overflowing. To monsters, this place was paradise itself, wrought from gold.

But what left her most breathless was something else entirely. The fact that this place operated under the rules of a scrupulously hygienic and refined "hotel." Here, matters of precise etiquette and protocol were rigorously observed.

'A vast yoke that safely accommodates humans, harvests their Nightmares according to the rules, and sustains itself on the most efficient figures….'

Standing before that cold and controlling causality,

"……."

the fox felt the breath stop in her throat under the illusion of the "master's" gaze bearing down upon her whole body. An instinctive rapture and awe at being in the proximity of a god began to claw mercilessly at her heart.

As the face in the mirror told her plainly, it was a dizzying, intoxicating harmfulness.

* * *

There, she carried out the Teacher's orders.

The twenty-third-floor Aqua Park, or some space on its other side. Trusting in nothing but her keen eyes, the fox rescued the human who had thrown himself into the Water Wraith's embrace. Fortunately, the Water Wraith of this paradise was in an exceedingly merciful state.

And at last, the time of the promised reward arrived.

"You were not late."

"Teacher."

"Guard your words, and always mind your bearing."

"Yes. I shall never show you anything less than my best."

She pressed her lips to the back of his pallid hand and swore her loyalty. It was a moment of utmost glory, yet the Teacher's reaction differed from the usual.

"I wonder about that."

It was subtly different from the lofty gaze she had long known.

"Ah, of course I know your loyalty. Even far from me, you always did your part. It is not your ability I doubt—I caution you only because I know you too well."

"I shall not disappoint you."

"I expect nothing, and so there is nothing to disappoint."

What lay upon the Teacher's face was unmistakable interest.

"You entered into a 'contract,' did you not?"

"If you speak of the glorious certification you sent—of course…."

A certification in the form of an employment contract, befitting this hotel's decorum. The Teacher murmured.

"He is very young."

"As I thought, recently born…?"

"Yes."

The Teacher added in a low voice.

"So do not consider it shameful to kneel."

"Naturally, I shall maintain a posture befitting—"

A pallid hand reached toward her.

"Come, this way."

She stepped inside.

It was a peculiar space. It extended long like a cave, yet in form it resembled the corridor of a stately, antique manor. Not a single spot was wholly bright; the floor was red as blood, and the lighting was soft. At its end there was nothing but pitch-black darkness.

A precarious, eerie sensation, as though crawling into the throat of some vast living creature.

"It took some effort to be granted this passage."

"Ah, I see."

"We have arrived."

Presently, the Teacher opened a door of dark-stained wood.

"Shall we go in together?"

"……."

THUD— Her heart lurched violently.

'In there, He is… truly….'

It was a world where perfect order and snug darkness coexisted.

The shadows enveloping every side were deep and heavy, yet far from unpleasant—they were as sweet as silk wrapping gently around the entire body. Crackle, crackle. Within the flickering fireplace, the sound of logs burning echoed quietly.

A space like a cradle of stillness.

"This is where He mimics being human."

"Truly beautiful."

The sofas looked so deep and plush they might swallow a person the instant they sat down. The table, finished to bring out its grain, reflected the lighting across its glossy surface in rippling fish-scale patterns.

The bookshelves that filled every wall, stretching dizzily from floor to ceiling, were solemn. Within them, thick hardcovers bound with proper formality were arranged without the slightest deviation.

When she breathed out,

"……."

the damp scent of paper and a sweetness like burnt sugar from beeswax candles mingled in the air.

"…Truly."

"Deeper inside."

"Y-yes."

It was the innermost chamber of the study.

A space filled on every side, without a single gap, by bookshelves of an almost grotesquely perfect order. When she set foot in the center of a space that left even a vampire like her breathless, what she beheld was a scene akin to a single, vast altar.

And at its center, the "General Manager" stood.

* * *

"……."

For an instant, she thought it was a doll.

'Like porcelain powdered with white….'

Silent "staff members" encircled him.

'What are they doing?'

They were meticulously grooming "his" appearance.

One tightened his shirt collar and neatly knotted his tie; another smoothed down the hem of his black suit jacket. Throughout the grooming, "he" did not so much as breathe audibly, only staring into the empty air.

'I see.'

The sound of breathing—she couldn't hear it.

"…! Ah."

"……."

In that instant, "his" still eyes turned toward the fox.

Presently, atop a face in which not a margin of emotion could be found, an artificial smile traced a thin, long arc. A chilling smile, formed as the eyes narrowed to slits.

That fleeting smile brought a breathless hush crashing over the entire study.

'No—it's not that it resembles a doll.'

His existence was simply so vast that she couldn't fit the whole of it into her eyes.

'Surely, He is….'

He wore a doll's mask, but the presence beyond it was utterly beyond what her meager strength could withstand. Every pipe and circulatory system of this hotel was no different from this being's own blood vessels.

A vertigo as though her very self were being disassembled struck her mind. An abnormal volume of information that exceeded her own cognitive domain. A vicious terror that froze every bone and sinew and current of blood flooded in.

"Ah, ah."

Had she thought, on her way here, that it felt like crawling into the throat of some vast creature?

From the very depths of that overwhelming terror, the blood mage's blood began to react violently toward an absolute ruler who could not be defied. A spine-crawling thrill that hacked at her heart, and a ferocious elation filled her mind to bursting.

Within a strange intoxication in which reason shattered utterly,

"Ha… hk, ahahaha…."

the fox let out a crazed, vacant laugh.

"Ahahahaha…!"

Her eyes, soaked in reverence, streamed tears without cease, while her lips, having lost all control, split open as if to tear, baring her teeth in a grin.

How arrogant a creature I was!

'To say I wouldn't show an inadequate side! To say I would maintain a befitting posture!'

How dare I—such a choice never existed for me to begin with.

By the time she came to her senses, she was already on her knees on the cold floor. The instant of awareness and her body moved as one. She pressed the five points of her body—both knees, both elbows, her forehead—to the floor. Her trembling palms faced upward, as though in supplication.

Because she could find no way to survive other than absolute submission.

It was a truly pitiable and yet ecstatic beginning of worship toward her god.

* * *

"……."

"……."

The General Manager, having been quietly observing the "Guest Without Taste" who could not suppress the twitching of his lips, was suddenly struck by a single clue that might explain this situation.

'What level am I again?'

[Manager Grade: Lv.771]

'Ah, I see.'

It hadn't been obvious enough to notice all this time, but it seemed there had been a tangible effect after all.

'How regrettable.'

Truly, not a single thing was going his way.

The General Manager, facing the tactless vampire who was making a spectacle of tormenting him, had no choice but to stare into the empty air with soulless eyes until the new employee's tears stopped.

It was decidedly not a good thing….

* * *

"One of the defining features of the previous Devil was that the bastard was a 'mechanical puppet.'"

Lee Seon-hae nodded.

"Yes, you said he had no fixed physical body."

"The story starts from there."

The Director stroked her dry chin and continued.

"What I've heard secondhand is that the man was so proficient in Blood Magic that he was a Lidmar-class mage who dealt directly with 'Count Dracula.' So naturally, I figured that bastard must have coveted the seat of the god and performed the ritual."

Kwon Seung-jae asked with an intrigued, easygoing air.

"That Crimson Core Commentary ritual, you mean?"

"That's the one."

The Director nodded curtly.

"However, the established theory in academia and the agencies was that the bastard had spectacularly failed the ritual, lost his entire body, and ended up trapped in the shell of a mechanical puppet. That was the most credible hypothesis."

A mechanical puppet cannot produce its own blood. For a blood mage, who draws the mystical from blood, it was a permanent penalty tantamount to a death sentence.

And given that, even bearing such a critical flaw, he had never once broken free of the mechanical puppet's constraints, the agencies' conjecture held reasonable weight as evidence.

But.

"The fact that it 'was' the established theory means, conversely, that an exception has arisen."

"I really want to believe otherwise, you know? At first it was just a what-if. But the more I think about it, the more the puzzle fits together with an almost maddening precision."

At Lee Seon-hae's question, the Director's face crumpled.

"If I try the substitution, it roughly works. That bastard's ultimate goal wasn't merely making himself a god. The 'Overwrite Project' that used the entire Foundation as a sacrifice—meaning this massive labyrinth-ification process itself—was his real objective."

"Ah."

Kwon Seung-jae nodded.

"So he created this labyrinth called 'Hotel One' while hiding the fact that he'd become Velmareth?"

He continued, caressing the barrel of his gun.

"The previous Devil's data merged on equal footing with the solid foundation called Lee Yeon-woo, and that tangle of cause and effect gave rise to 'Hotel One,' the monsters' paradise—is that it?"

"And within it, Velmareth—that is, the 'General Manager'—was created, holding the system's reins."

The Director nodded.

"If all of this was that bastard's plan… it lines up perfectly with the recent circumstances of the Count painstakingly summoning his disciples into this labyrinth. There's still one grand celebration left, isn't there."

"Grand celebration?"

At Kwon Do-heon's dazed murmur, Director Lee Seon-hae rolled her dry eyes and nodded.

"The 'Grand Banquet Hall' event hasn't been opened yet."

"A bastard who swaggered that the kitchen was his front yard would never leave the banquet hall untouched."

"In fact, there's a good chance he'll be the star of the Grand Banquet Hall."

"Right. That old codger wouldn't have moved his senior disciples without calculation. From his position, 'The Fox Sister' is a particularly favored disciple."

The Director's crumpled face showed no signs of smoothing out.

"If this is left unchecked, this labyrinth will degenerate into a massive cult den where vampires worship the blood god called Velmareth."

"Oh no—our kind Yeon-woo."

As Lee Seon-hae clutched her throbbing head in alarm, Writer Hong Gyeong-yeon beside her went equally pale. He clapped a hand over his mouth without thinking and muttered.

"Are you telling me that a criminal cult of the highest order is on the verge of forming, one that worships a five-year-old kindergartner as a blood god? Please tell me you're lying."

"It's not entirely without leaps in logic, but it's not pure fabrication either."

"If you'll excuse me for a moment…."

Hong Gyeong-yeon could be seen heading for the bathroom.

"Looks like he's going to throw up."

"Senior Cha, please read the room."

Cha Do-hyeon, sprawled across the sofa, asked.

"Do you really think I lack that much awareness?"

"Why have you gone so crooked overnight?"

"When have I ever not been crooked?"

"Act your age—there's a kid here, you know."

"Nineteen's grown enough."

"Oh, honestly."

While Lee Seon-hae was berating Cha Do-hyeon, the Director clicked her tongue and went on.

"So, the point is, before the situation spirals to its worst, something has to be done right now."

The Director looked at Kwon Do-heon.

"Hey, kid—you said that water ghost accepted the offering at dawn, didn't you?"

"Accepted… can you even call it accepting? She, um, she held it in her hand and vanished."

"That's right, that white fish. Since it's an offering she wanted and willingly swallowed, she's now obligated to give back an equal amount. Equivalent exchange is the ancient rule of this world."

She then added.

"The issue was that there wasn't anyone to accept from in the first place—the rule itself is just like that."

"So… what do I have to do?"

"Ask her to tell you how to turn the 'General Manager' back into 'Lee Yeon-woo.'"

She added.

"It should be connected to what Actor Cha described before—'how to make the General Manager glitch.'"

Classical labyrinths, which by their nature had thin structural egos and were closer to natural objects, tended to offer wisdom in return for offerings, so the creature shouldn't feel too much resistance.

"Looking at the Count lavishing such tearful devotion by getting his senior disciples hired as 'staff' at this labyrinth, it seems like he intends to hand the future direction of operations wholesale to this 'General Manager.'"

Saying this, the Director looked at Hyeon Si-gyeong, who stood silently with only a whistle in his mouth.

"If that young rascal is truly as good-natured as Miss Baeksan says, then he's the right one to hold this labyrinth's reins. At the very least, he wouldn't run this labyrinth like a human slaughterhouse."

"He's certainly not… cruel. Quite the opposite."

"Right, and so."

Since his temperament was one that would carve out his own flesh and blood to limit the rules of offering, the more "sincerity" their side showed, the more abnormally high his understanding of humans would grow, and the labyrinth's overall danger level would drop dramatically.

'That offering business the rascal blathered about in the lobby was probably a scheme aimed at exactly that.'

Raising understanding and refining the standards of safety. The Director turned her gaze from Hyeon Si-gyeong.

"If things flow that way, it'll be a very reassuring insurance policy for our Sensitivity Bureau too. We'd be corralling the headache of a natural disaster called a labyrinth firmly into one zone and keeping it controlled, while securing on our own soil a single infant Dokkaebi that absolutely will not kill people."

"Excuse me, just a moment."

Writer Hong Gyeong-yeon, having just returned from the bathroom, asked with a haggard, blanched face.

"What about Mr. Lee Yeon-woo's human rights? Where have his inalienable rights evaporated to?"

"What kind of dog-bone nonsense is human rights for a Dokkaebi?"

"You said he was human before he became a chimera, at least."

"When you die, your human rights expire along with you. That friend's not human anymore."

From the Sensitivity Bureau's standpoint, there was no reason not to make this deal.

"To summarize: before the Count and his disciples throw a festival of treason in the Grand Banquet Hall, the General Manager must be returned to Lee Yeon-woo."

"Treason… would it go that far? You said Velmareth is the god of the blood mages."

"The maddening thing about those blood-mage beasts is that they genuinely revere their superiors while simultaneously wanting to dissect them. Think a god would be an exception? Hm?"

"I so desperately want to argue against that."

"Anyway, that Lee Yeon-woo fellow has to be made to fully grip the leash—or whatever it is—of this labyrinth, and then in that state, we shove him straight into the Grand Banquet Hall."

The Director's gaze settled calmly.

"And if that can be done,"

"Mr. Lee Yeon-woo's human rights…."

"I said no, brat. You really don't listen."

The Director merely clicked her tongue and brushed past Hong Gyeong-yeon's persistent murmuring.

"If that can be done, there's nothing I can't do."

Her gaze again found the Hanged Man, Hyeon Si-gyeong.

"Offering or whatever."

"……."

"Live or die."

"……."

Presently, Hyeon Si-gyeong parted his lips without emotion.

"An excellent choice."

He asked.

"Arcana Member Number 12, 'the Hanged Man,' formally requests everyone present."

"……."

"I intend to carve your names into this game."

And so,

"Do you consent to the offering?"

* * *

"—Explain! Explain it to me!!"

Hong Gyeong-yeon's patience had at last hit rock bottom.