Chapter 192

Rewinding a little.

"It truly is not the heart?"

"Unfortunately, no."

The General Manager and the "Guest Without Taste" had once discussed the "Crimson Core." The old vampire seemed unable to believe that "Velmareth" lacked even this most fundamental piece of knowledge.

"The very first thing a true blood mage does is eliminate the 'heart.'"

"The heart should be the engine that circulates blood to sustain life. In my case, owing to special circumstances, I have my circuits preserved and operate them manually, but is it the same for others?"

"Blood Magic typically takes over that role. In any case, hear me out."

Blood Magic was a discipline that existed to venerate blood itself. The order that originally worshipped blood, along with the ancient scientists, followed this path as a practice to achieve the permanent preservation of the ego and the attainment of immortality.

"Becoming Velmareth means synchronizing the ego to the blood, discarding the body, and pursuing the 'Hemobody Transition' into a permanently sustainable blood-form."

"That much I remember."

"This entails a fundamental disjunction that goes beyond mere magical transformation. The 'Deep Collapse of the Blood' phenomenon alone proves that the Core is not a simple substitute for the heart."

A fatal side effect in which the blood reacts ahead of the ego, erodes the sympathetic nervous system, precipitates the ego into the blood, and ultimately extinguishes it.

This implied that the Core's essence was something of an entirely different dimension, transcending any organic organ.

"I cannot fathom how you became Velmareth, but…."

"I came to my senses and found myself like this."

"Damn."

"Will you not continue your explanation?"

"To understand this, we must examine the fusion structure of the 'Core Token.'"

"That, too, I remember."

The General Manager answered flatly.

"It was composed of heartbeat rhythm, brain signal, and ignition pattern, was it not?"

[Core Token = Heartbeat Rhythm + Brain Signal + Ignition Pattern]

"I understand it as the most fundamental formula."

"You do remember that much, at least."

"You have been remarkably prickly for some time now."

"What this formula signifies is simple. The Crimson Core is not a biological heart. It is closer to a 'distributed ego network' derived from the complete integration of the caster's brainwave rhythm, ignition pattern, and entire circulatory system with the labyrinth's circuits."

In other words, the Crimson Core was not a localized organ but information flowing through the entire body—the soul itself.

"What I so ceaselessly yearn for and wish to kneel before is not your physical heart. It is the 'complete blood' flowing from your body—in other words…."

"You are speaking of blood in which the ego and memory have been fully dissolved, pulsing of its own accord."

"And knowing that, you still interpreted a blood mage's Core as a mere 'heart'?"

"It is, after all, a vital part—without it, one dies."

In terms of perception, that was true.

"It also happens to be the most suitable organ for operating magic."

Given the heart's physical role as the body's pump, no organ was better suited to serve as the hub of the art called "magic." The current General Manager likewise used a preserved "heart" as his magic-control core.

"Leaving it in place has many conveniences. In practice, my blood simultaneously performs the roles of essential organs such as the heart, brain, lungs, liver, and kidneys."

"Truly blood itself. How remarkable that you maintain a human form."

"I have the hotel's assistance."

It was a painstaking operation to manage bare-handed.

"How is it for others?"

"Hm?"

"I am curious how everyone else sustains and recovers their lives."

"Without a heart, by what power and mechanism can those flowing ego-cells be replicated and proliferated anew… is that your question?"

"In my case, I either wait for the deficient blood to proliferate on its own or have the hotel assist with restoration. But surely not everyone sustains life this way."

"Ah, well now…."

The old vampire pressed a hand to his temple.

"That is not something just anyone can do."

"What do you mean, precisely?"

"A living body is important to blood mages too. The previous 'Devil' was not called the worst blood mage for nothing. Generating, circulating, and purifying blood without organs is far from easy."

And so they first modify the "heart."

"As you just described, typically by turning it into a magical hub that controls vascular contraction and mana computation…."

That comes first.

"It is a rudimentary power source for running Blood Magic's computations. Should that modified heart be destroyed, the collapse extends beyond the casting system to potentially claim the ego itself."

"……."

"That is why they create the 'Crimson Core.'"

The heart, the brain, the lungs, the liver, the kidneys. Ultimately, a single drop of "blood" to replace one's very existence. Blood mages devote their entire lives to completing that single drop of "Crimson Core."

"Put simply, it is a 'Liquid-State Decentralized Ego Element.' However, in your case, hah…."

The old vampire could not conceal a bitter smile. His face looked thoroughly stung.

"It seems you misread it because you consider yourself human. Humans have an instinctive tendency to locate the center of life in the 'heart.'"

"So I was wrong?"

"No, not exactly."

"But what you wish to say is…."

"Separate from your misreading, you are already perfectly faithful as 'Velmareth.' You simply do not realize it—you are 'living blood' itself."

He swept his hand wide in a courteous, presenting gesture. The arc of his fingertips traced past every corner of the "hotel."

"Is this labyrinth not you yourself?"

In the past, Lee Yeon-woo had preserved himself within the Central Control Room, thereby physically assimilating his circulatory system and neural network with the labyrinth's plumbing and circuits.

"You asked how life is sustained and recovered."

"The question arose when you said the heart is eliminated."

"Each blood mage has their own know-how on that front."

Methods varied, but the conclusion was singular.

"They rely wholly on that 'Core.'"

"Because the Core takes over the roles of the heart, bone marrow, and all other organs?"

"Yes. That is why the essence—'blood'—matters. Some still mimic the heart's structure, others stockpile the blood of others, and still others create from scratch the recipe of the human body's architecture for producing blood."

"Recipe."

Having murmured that curious word, the General Manager asked again.

"To summarize, what is the Crimson Core?"

"Blood in which the ego dwells."

"I am not unaware of that."

"So it is a kind of…."

With a strangely astringent expression, the "Guest Without Taste" swallowed a deep sigh.

"A kind of—tch, hah…. Consider it 'a vampire's own heart.'"

"You look pained."

"So long as even a single drop of 'Crimson Core' remains, that vampire can revive any number of times. Provided sufficient time and resources, that is."

The old vampire continued.

"A being whose entire body is composed of Crimson Core—and who can moreover sublimate even the most trifling blood into more of it—that is what is called 'Velmareth.' In the case of Velmareth, every drop of blood the Core produces becomes yet another Core."

The General Manager narrowed his brow, puzzled.

"? Then the Cores of other blood mages cannot generate new Cores?"

"……."

"'Guest Without Taste'?"

"……."

After a long silence in which he seemed to chew something down, the vampire reluctantly nodded.

"…No. Their Cores, at best, can only reproduce blood imbued with mana. So please, I beg you—do not pose such an ignorant question in front of other vampires."

"Was that unfortunate?"

"Not particularly. I merely had the momentary urge to split that body of yours in two and swallow every last thing inside."

"I shall refrain in the future."

It had been a question asked in genuine, pure ignorance.

"You would also do well to conceal, as much as possible, how your own Core is situated. I witnessed firsthand how you assimilated with this place, but should an enemy with sinister intentions learn of it, you might sustain a scratch or two."

"A scratch…."

"And that is being very generous. Think about it rationally. For someone whose every drop of output is a Core, what does the loss of a single Core amount to—more than having a strand of down plucked? Is it not so?"

"You are angry."

"I am correcting myself after the fact, but what truly rotten luck—what a truly merciless master."

"Hmm."

The General Manager smiled his characteristic smile and nodded.

"Thank you for telling me. It was a great help."

* * *

"…So…."

Cha Do-hyeon asked.

"Did you follow all of that?"

"……."

"Director, we're really running out of time now."

No matter that his role was "the friend," he couldn't delay "filming" any further, not when the labyrinth's master was already seething. Blood was already dripping steadily from Cha Do-hyeon's eyes and nose.

"How much longer do I need to buy?"

"We destroy the Core."

"What? Did you actually understand what I just explained? Even 'Count Dracula,' that bastard—they still haven't been able to subjugate him because they can't destroy his Core. And you want to destroy Velmareth's? Do you even know where it's located?"

Moreover, though they did not know it, "Velmareth" was a being whose entire body was composed of Core. Unlike an ordinary vampire, destroying him was effectively impossible.

"Above all, if he's a Dokkaebi and co-owner of the labyrinth, his Core is probably already preserved deep within this labyrinth where it can't be touched—"

"Who did that preserving?"

"Ha, how would I know that?"

"Yeon-woo was always a person."

"Director—"

"Even when he was helping me."

It was still vivid before her eyes.

"He made a point of being a person."

Lee Seon-hae had always been reminded, in that image, of a sinner trapped in ice, slowly losing his identity.

"So it was too strange."

"Director."

"He had no reason to go that far."

The more she heard about him, the stronger her doubts grew.

For an absolute being on the order of Velmareth to deliberately assume human form, speak in human language, and behave as a human—that would entail enormous constraints and effort.

'Then why did he insist so stubbornly on a human shape?'

Why was it specifically the appearance of someone around twenty years old? How could he understand human emotions so well and act so convincingly human? And why, back then, had he gone so far as to—

…save her?

"He thinks he's a person."

"That's…."

"Whether as Yeon-woo or as the General Manager, he thinks he's human. Because he has never once not been human."

"What exactly are you trying to say?"

"You said he's only five years old?"

"Who, the General Manager? But that's based on how much time has passed inside this labyrinth, so we don't know—"

"No one has ever taught Yeon-woo about Blood Magic."

"What?"

"He surely didn't know."

That the Crimson Core was not the heart but his own special blood itself.

"So,"

Aim for the heart, Do-heon.

Lee Seon-hae's "intuition" was telling her this was the answer.

* * *

Gustave Doré, "Cocytus (The Frozen Lake)," from the Divine Comedy (1861 edition)

* * *

BANG—!!!

"Hkh, haah…."

What echoed through the corridor in that instant was not the sound of a living body being destroyed.

"……."

"……."

The General Manager's body juddered and froze in place, like a machine whose circuits had been severed.

The intense red system-warning windows that had been dizzying Kwon Do-heon's eyes sputtered with noise, then shattered apart, scattering like dust.

And in that darkness, the General Manager—

"……."

—silently felt at his own heart, as though puzzled, then raised his head and….

"…!!"

"Lower the gun."

—looked at Kwon Do-heon.

CRACKLE, CRACKLE—!! Once again Kwon Do-heon's vision filled with countless warning windows.

[Error] [Error] [Error] [Error] [Error] [Error] [Error]

As far as his eyes could not reach, the entire dark space was blanketed in system windows that flashed a searing light.

Red and black, silver and gold blurred together until he thought he'd go blind. Beyond those dazzling system windows, the man's unblinking eyes likewise alternated between gold and ink-black, again and again. Kwon Do-heon wanted desperately to close his eyes, but the pain was too great to do even that.

Still refusing to settle on a single color, blood seeped from the corners of those wide-open eyes. Trickle—fresh blood ran down to his mouth, and the body that had been motionless lurched and retched blood.

"Ah."

"Cough…!"

Someone caught him from the shadows, but the body was already crumbling. The moment the man's knees touched the floor, through the dazzlingly flashing system windows—

he saw staff members watching him, their faces devoid of smiles.

"……."

"Cough, gkh, hnngh…!"

"……."

"Haah…"

The man with black irises moved his lips toward Kwon Do-heon.

"……."

"…Ru—"

SHRIEEEEEEEEEEK―――――!!!

"……!!"

A grotesque scream tore the corridor's silence to shreds. The Vantablack cat, which had been lying flat and watching the situation, let out a great wail.

Its pitch-black fur, which reflected not a single scrap of light, bristled upright. The shadow in the shape of a cat expanded explosively in every direction.

"…?! Wha—"

FLASH—!!

Sudden blackout.

Complete darkness, descended in an instant, enveloped Kwon Do-heon's vision. Whether eyes open or shut—the same perfect dark.

'I can't feel anything.'

It was not only the light. The screaming of the space that had been deafening his ears, the damp reek of blood that had stung his nostrils, even the sensation of the revolver in his grip—all of it was swallowed whole into the vast darkness.

"What is—!!"

"Over here."

"…! S-sunbae-nim?"

"Run, now!!"

"Fuck, what the hell is happen—!!"

"I said run!!"

Seome screamed from within the darkness.

"There's no chance but right now!!"

"I can't see a thing!!"

"You'll be able to see me."

FLUTTER—!!

In the darkness, the white owl alone was visible with piercing clarity.

"…Fuck…!!"

Kwon Do-heon ran.

He had no idea what was happening. His breath climbed to the very tip of his chin. Seome kept making sharp, sudden turns, and Kwon Do-heon moved his legs without knowing where or how he was running. The wind grazing his ears was cold.

At some point, Seome surged high and vanished from his sight. Then a sharp voice fell from the air.

"The blackout will lift soon—and when it does, the 'hotel's' eyes open again!"

"What, what does that mean?!!"

"It means the 'staff' will come swarming to catch you!!"

In that instant—CRACKLE, CRACKLE—!! The hotel lights flickered. In that split second, Kwon Do-heon saw.

"Ah."

The gazes of "staff members" who had been watching him from every conceivable place.

"Ah, aaaaah, fuck…! Fuck, seriously!!"

"Creepy, right?"

"Fucking disgusting!!"

"Then run faster!!"

CRACKLE, CRACK!

The lights flickered faster still.

"The hotel has classified you as a foreign body! Even if the lights come on and you can see ahead, never trust your eyes! Everything you see is a lie—follow only me!!"

"What does that even—!"

"I'm the only one who knows the way!"

Seome screamed one final, hammering declaration.

"Of everything you see, I alone am the truth!!"

FLASH—!

The instant the blackout lifted.

"……."

THUD—

His heart dropped.

An endlessly long corridor. Every door lining both sides stood open. And in each doorway, staff members wearing identical smiles, as if stamped from a mold, stood at polite attention. Crescent-moon eyes, grotesquely curved, tracked one person and one person only—

Kwon Do-heon.

"…!!!"

Goosebumps erupted over his entire body, and Kwon Do-heon fixed his gaze solely on the white owl guiding him.

"This is insane, truly…!!"

Seome was charging straight at a dead-end wall.

Kwon Do-heon likewise squeezed his eyes shut and hurled his body at the wall.

And his body passed through it.

* * *

"Right, keep going straight."

"Through the third doorway."

"The bookshelf beside the mahogany table."

"Left, turn immediately."

Lee Seon-hae's eyes, fixed on the script, were threaded with bright-red veins. Drip, drip. Red nosebleed spread across the script's surface.

"Next, a staff member appears."

She whispered into the "script."

"Don't get caught."

Run.

* * *

"Ngh…!!"

The staff member who had suddenly blocked his path was smiling. Unmistakably smiling.

In that instant, Seome swooped in and seized the back of Kwon Do-heon's collar, yanking him hard. The staff member's fingertips grazed past Kwon Do-heon's elbow by a hair.

CRASH—!! The sound of the staff member, having failed to grab Kwon Do-heon, collapsing to the floor echoed behind him.

'More, more, more….'

Faster.

'I have to run faster.'

Kwon Do-heon ran, eyes fixed only on Seome's white silhouette ahead.

Alongside an ominous vibration that hummed in his ears, the warped membrane of the corridor walls and the seams of the marble floor gaped open grotesquely. And through those narrow cracks, hotel staff members in neat suits began crawling out like swarms of cockroaches.

"■■."

"■■■■■■."

"■■■—…!!"

Dozens—hundreds—of staff members trampled and tangled over one another's bodies. A colossal mass of flesh soon surged upward like a tidal wave.

The slab of meat filling the grotesquely twisted, expanded corridor opened the countless eyes covering its entire body wide, and barreled toward Kwon Do-heon alone at terrifying speed.

"Fuck this…!!"

Kwon Do-heon whipped his head around desperately and leveled the revolver in his hand.

"Stop following me!!"

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"You're so fucking disgusting!!"

With each bullet that struck, staff members' bodies dropped from the meat-mass like chunks of flesh, slowing it slightly. Using that brief window, Kwon Do-heon chased Seome's wingbeats with everything he had.

CRASH! CRASH! Doorframes dropping like guillotine blades each time he passed—he threaded through by the slimmest margin, panting and spitting curses.

"Fucking insane situation…!!"

"Hoot!!"

"I'm coming!!"

In the agonizing pain of lungs about to burst and the pressure squeezing his heart, he finally spotted it—a single guest-room door at the far end of the corridor. Instinct screamed. There. That's the destination.

Room 1209. The number registered only after the fact.

"Uncle, open the door!!"

"On it!!"

CLATTER—!!

A split second before the oncoming meat-wave could sweep him up, he threw his body toward the floor in a slide. Having barely skidded into the room, Kwon Do-heon screamed before he could even get up.

"Close it! Close it! Close it now!!"

"I'm already closing it, you brat!!"

SLAM! The instant Kwon Do-heon tumbled inside, Kwon Seung-jae, who'd been waiting within, slammed the door shut hard enough to break it. CLICK, CLICK! He didn't forget to throw every lock.

And then—the deafening roar of the meat-mass tsunami that had been sweeping through the entire corridor, the sound of bones being crushed within that mass of flesh, the wet, squelching burst of pulped bodies being ground into paste on the floor—all cut off as if by magic.

"……."

"Haah, hah, hnngh…."

Kwon Do-heon tried to push himself up from the floor with trembling hands. Someone caught him and hauled him to his feet.

"Well done."

It was Dan-cheong.

"Th-that insane, fucking insane…."

"There now, take a breather."

"Fuck…."

"Not bad for a lump of flesh."

A chuckling laugh faded to a distant sound in his ears.

"……."

Thump.

Kwon Do-heon buried himself deep into the sofa.

"…Haaaaah…."

The hellish chase had, at last, come to its end.

* * *

Drip.

Drip.

Drip….

"Hello…."

Blood dripped to the corridor floor, pooling into a small puddle.

"Hello… yes, no…."

"……."

"No, no. No… hello…."

"……."

"Hel… hello……."

The rigid hand twitched in a small spasm, then drew Coco's squishy body into an embrace. A touch that trembled faintly yet was firm and steady.

"Coco."

"…! Hello."

"It is all right."

"Yes."

"Yes."

Cradling Coco in his arms, Lee Yeon-woo staggered to his feet atop the blood.

"It's all right."

"Eeing."

"Everything will be fine."

Because I will make it so.

"…Let us return to the quarters."

* * *

The General Manager smiled his characteristic smile and nodded.

"Thank you for telling me. It was a great help."

At some point, Lee Yeon-woo had preserved his circuits throughout the entire hotel. So long as the hotel did not perish, the "General Manager" would not die. Thus, leaving the "heart" as it was posed no great problem.

Because he, too, knew what this place's identity was.

'A game must behave like a game.'

And I remember that I, too, am part of that game.

'So there should be a hittable point for the user.'

"……."

'A weak point—one that can't kill, but can force a retreat….'

He had not the slightest intention of letting himself be swept along by some stupidly vague emotion and ruining the board that "he" had laid down and was waiting on.