Chapter 209

One day, Kwon Seung-jae, who had come to the Gapyeong shoot, said,

"You mustn't pity a Labyrinth, Teacher."

"……."

"It's not a matter of right and wrong. There really are pitiable Labyrinths, and Dokkaebi like that too. But whether caring that much means you 'can save it' is a separate matter…."

He said,

"You can't save it, that."

He told her there was nothing Lee Seon-hae could do.

"Over here we call that 'Offering.' Can a person vomit back up the rice they've eaten in the exact same shape? A Labyrinth, at least, can't do that—it's already digested and mixed in."

"If it's been digested…."

"Then it's already part of that Labyrinth, the way a person gets nutrients from eating rice."

When a Labyrinth swallows an Offering to its liking, not even the dregs remain. It devours the whole of it, so that in the end the thing can no longer be called the being it once was, he said.

When Kwon Seung-jae said that—

"……."

Lee Seon-hae thought a great many things, and—

"It may not be fully digested yet."

The Hanged Man, Hyeon Si-gyeong, said, 'a fishbone might still be caught in the throat mid-swallow.' Inspector Hyeon Si-gyeong blinked, and his gaze fell again on Lee Seon-hae.

"For a person to hold goodwill toward another is natural. So is an adult more easily feeling compassion for a child. If you, Director Lee Seon-hae, saw the entity 'Lee Yeon-woo' as human—"

"……."

"if you saw him so because he truly was no different from a human, then, uncomfortable as it may be, I recommend you keep holding that feeling. Guilt over having failed to save him, a sense of debt over having been helped—anything will do."

Anything will do, was it?

"Baeksan's representative feels responsible for preserving precious things."

"…That's right."

"In that case, he may still be 'alive.'"

Once more, a blink.

"If he's become a 'Dokkaebi,' that is."

It was something Lee Seon-hae suddenly realized: interpreted that way, it felt like she could manage anything.

'…A young Dokkaebi….'

And so that became an anchor.

***

Anchoring Effect

: A cognitive bias in which human thought is excessively influenced by an initially presented 'Cognitive Anchor,' such that subsequent decisions or predictions become distorted and cannot escape the range of that reference point.

***

"Most Artists have a very broad field of view."

Baek Mu-jin sipped tea from a celadon cup and continued.

"For No. 12, all the more so."

"……."

"In most cases their goals are so vast, yet they themselves are unaware of it, so the things caught up in it aren't easily seen. Only past at least a hundred years old does one faintly perceive that such repercussions exist."

He looked at the 'young Dokkaebi' seated across from him and asked,

"Were you that curious about it?"

"Yes."

Lee Yeon-woo grinned.

"By appearance I'm not all that young, am I."

To speak frankly, the words 'five years old' that Director Lee Seon-hae had cried while gripping him in the grand banquet hall still rang in his ears.

"It's rather a shock to me as well."

"I don't think it's wrong, though—five years old."

"How it looks from outside I can't say, but that isn't the case."

"In the end it's a difference of perspective."

Baek Mu-jin didn't dwell on it much.

"What matters to the 'Hanged Man' is completing 'this game'; those who'd be twisted or broken in the process he didn't take into account. And Seon-hae is a child brimming with an Artist's temperament to begin with, so… the Tarot member's repercussions seem to have reached her strongly."

He added,

"Surely there was a part where that child helped you?"

"I did get the impression she looked after me far more than when we first met."

That had, in fact, had a positive effect on Lee Yeon-woo.

"Treating a being made of blood as a person isn't an easy thing, is it?"

He'd asked for help, and been helped.

"Because I wanted to remain a person, wanted to become one, I was simply grateful."

"Then is there any reason to go out of your way to fix it?"

"I'd rather not keep being treated as a preschool child."

"……."

Baek Mu-jin was silent a moment, and Lee Yeon-woo realized.

'This man sees me as a preschool child too.'

More precisely, it seemed he saw him not as Lee Seon-hae did—'a little child who ought to be protected, being a human whelp'—but as 'a young being incapable of being schooled.' The ultimate meaning was similar.

"I'm not young."

"If it's wounded your pride, my apologies."

"I'd say it's more a matter of self-worth than pride."

There's a 50-year-old adult man inside this, you know.

'Not that it's a situation where I can say so honestly….'

Lee Yeon-woo added,

"If we're weighing whether it helps or not—yes, it does help. Unconditional goodwill and protection directed at a child generally bring benefit. But it isn't a healthy situation."

"Even though every human lives misunderstanding one another?"

"Since I've come to grasp, however faintly, why she thinks that way, if I keep my mouth shut any longer just because I want the goodwill meant for a 'little child,' I'll end up deceiving that kind person after all."

He didn't want to do that.

"I'm not so young, or so weak, as that."

Above all, most importantly,

"isn't it proof that Director Lee Seon-hae was cornered enough to have to 'misperceive' me that far?"

"Does that weigh on you so?"

"I think it's a part I ought to take responsibility for."

Lee Yeon-woo had done his best, but a best doesn't necessarily mean perfection.

He had a sense of how hard Lee Seon-hae—of high morality and ethics, who'd lived as an ordinary person—must have struggled to accept the existence of this hotel. However much that manner had been someone's design and twisted, at the base of that effort was goodwill.

He wanted to return it with fitting goodwill.

"Because they were things that happened in my hotel."

"How about thinking of it as a hardship one must rightly pass through to grow?"

"Some growth is accompanied by pain, but that isn't a reason all growth must entail pain. And by now there's more than enough room to spare, too."

"Even though it isn't a misperception you planted."

"Even if every human lives misunderstanding one another, the more often you meet and converse, the more properly you come to know that person, don't you. I'm curious about this person called 'Lee Seon-hae.'"

Lee Yeon-woo crinkled his eyes into a smile.

"And I'm sure Director Lee Seon-hae feels the same."

"You trust her quite a bit."

"She's a good person, isn't she?"

"Still fond of 'good people.'"

"I think of her as someone to be grateful to."

"Even though the one who received the kindness is over here."

Baek Mu-jin stroked his jaw.

"Had you not held to the 'game' form, there'd have been no such miracle either."

It was a 'hotel' where all manner of high-risk Labyrinths were gathered. Even a fairly capable Artist would find it hard to walk out alive, let alone leave behind so much as a fragment of remains. From such a place, Baek Mu-jin's niece had walked out perfectly fine, twice.

"I'd like to convey my thanks to the others who granted mercy, too."

"They did so as members of my hotel, so it's fitting that I convey that gratitude as well."

Lee Yeon-woo added softly,

"Above all, haven't you already fulfilled what I asked of you?"

"The internet connection?"

"Ah, that's part of it too, of course."

It had been one of the things Lee Yeon-woo had requested earlier. Baek Mu-jin had done a few bits of work, and by what principle no one knew, ordinary calls had gone through on the hotel phone ever since.

Baek Mu-jin added in a flat tone,

"When we get down there, it should be fine to activate a communication device for you."

"Thanks to it my life's grown a good deal more comfortable, but—"

Lee Yeon-woo said with a smile,

"I mean the 'game.'"

"Aha."

Baek Mu-jin nodded slowly.

"As for the specifics, how about we discuss them on the way down? The place Seon-hae works is in Seoul, and my workplace is in Seoul too. You were planning to head down that way as well, I take it…."

He glanced out the window and said,

"As you can see, I brought a car."

"It seems the one who drives came along too."

Beyond the lobby's glass doors, a jet-black car could be seen waiting.

"There's a part that worries me."

"Certainly the effect you'll have once you leave this Labyrinth is great. Most representatively, the part where you can't manage yourself and easily frighten people."

"You've seen it exactly."

He said it with a smile, but his stomach stung.

"I'm a lacking person who doesn't know much."

How frightened must that child he'd met in the 'Fox Den' have been.

***

Lee Yeon-woo defined 'level' thus.

'The volume of world-information a being contains, and its capacity for self-structuring.'

That is, one could also define it as 'the expansion of the self,' 'the density of existence,' or 'the compression rate of identity.' Put simply, the being that is me swelling into more than one person.

'And right now my Manager rank is 777….'

It had risen by 6 in the meantime.

[Manager Level: Lv.777]

'Is that a reflection of the process of taking the Lover of Dawn in as family?'

Lee Yeon-woo didn't speak of it, but Baek Mu-jin roughly guessed the context.

"When you're inside that 'game,' there'd be no problem at all in dealing with 'Human Guests.'"

Baek Mu-jin continued in the car as it descended the mountain road.

"Because in there you're defined solely as the 'General Manager.'"

"I can't become a being that frightens and oppresses guests."

"Which is why it's different outside the 'hotel.'"

He lifted his teacup.

"The you outside is no longer defined solely as the 'General Manager.'"

"Since there's no information about the person that is me, that's only natural."

"Have you learned about 'names'?"

"What a coincidence."

Feeling the monster of Room 14 flowing through his blood, Lee Yeon-woo answered.

"It's a topic I've been interested in lately."

He could well guess why the subject had come up.

"Is it because I have no fixed 'name'?"

"There are such ones now and then. Those whose existence, unintended, grew so large that they can't live among people unless they're confined to some framework or wear a mask."

"So there are such cases even among humans."

Having said that, Lee Yeon-woo fell briefly silent.

"……."

"What is it?"

"No, just a moment."

Even saying it himself, he was startled by how un-human-like a remark it was.

"So is that why you gave me this 'gift'?"

At that question, Baek Mu-jin pointed to the 'wristwatch' fastened on Lee Yeon-woo's wrist and said,

"That's a stopgap."

"I'll use it gratefully."

"While you're wearing it, even ordinary people won't feel much sense of wrongness."

Knock, knock—he rapped on the partition between the back seat and the driver's seat and asked,

"Child, how was it? Speak."

Then, after a little silence, an answer came back from within.

"The question of whether he's human did occur to me."

"Meticulous of you."

"There's a good chance it was an impression colored by the nature of the place."

The man in the driver's seat added,

"Since I understand it to be a place where no people live."

"You hear that?"

Baek Mu-jin continued flatly.

"That watch isn't all-powerful."

"It seems results differ by the volume of information the observer holds."

"That's not the only reason. That wristwatch conceals the presence of most any user, but you're of too high a rank to cover with just that one thing."

"Would wearing something else in addition make it possible?"

"It's awkward for me to say, but that watch is no ordinary article. Even if you procured something more, it wouldn't differ much from now."

His face not the least bit awkward, Baek Mu-jin continued.

"If you intend to keep living as a person, it wouldn't be bad to receive a 'person's name.' In this line of work there's an institution called the 'Naming Bureau,' for those like you who must rein in their rank."

Before Lee Yeon-woo could say anything, Baek Mu-jin added,

"I say it because your name 'Lee Yeon-woo' has already ceased to be a 'human name.'"

"I see. Thank you for telling me."

"Interested?"

"Well, now."

Rolling his eyes, Lee Yeon-woo asked,

"Do they name beings that have ceased to be human, too?"

"That's what the institution is for, so—of course."

"In that case, yes, I'm interested."

Perhaps he could obtain a clue about No. 14's name.

"What sort of institution is it?"

"A name it is, but an institution that gives the name by which the world defines you."

"You mean an additional identity."

"What's made there is called a 'courtesy name (ja),' though."

Pondering a moment, Baek Mu-jin cited someone Lee Yeon-woo knew as an example.

"In 'Master Nakdo,' which refers to the person Kwon Seung-jae, the 'Nakdo' is merely a sobriquet (ho). It can vary case by case, but it doesn't carry the same binding force as a courtesy name. It's no more than a nickname."

"He's called Master Nakdo?"

"In this line of work most of us tease him with 'anbin-nakdo,' but that's his own stubborn pick, apparently."

"It suits him."

"Not many in the Gaps reveal their true name. Unless they're desperate enough to crave that much attention, most use a courtesy name or a sobriquet to minimize danger and variables."

Handing over the teacup, Baek Mu-jin said,

"If you've a mind to experience the Gaps, I'll help arrange a visit to the Naming Bureau."

"For now…."

Gazing at the pale-yellow surface of the tea, unwavering even in the moving car, Lee Yeon-woo answered.

"I mean to see the Director and the Writer."

He wished to meet the first Human Guests of my hotel.

"Would that be possible?"

"And here I'd meant to talk business."

"The hotel is a 'game' that needs preparation too, isn't it—there's no reason to rush."

"Since you say you'll take it easy, I've no reason to stop you."

Knock, knock—Baek Mu-jin rapped again toward the driver's seat.

"Child."

"Yes, sir."

"You'll have to lend a hand."

"What help should I give?"

"He hungers for a person's life, they say."

Baek Mu-jin said, looking Lee Yeon-woo's appearance over.

"Let him experience it."

"……."

Lee Yeon-woo suddenly thought the man in the driver's seat seemed to be holding back a curse. But the silence was brief; presently the man answered in a voice no different from before.

"Yes. First I'll head to a clothing shop."

"That's the way."

At that moment, Coco, which had been serving as Lee Yeon-woo's coat, blinked.

"No?"

SCREEECH—!!!

"Whoops, dear me."

"……."

"You nearly spilled your cup, didn't you."

I don't think that's the important part right now.

'A hard brake….'

Is everything all right.

'I didn't think he'd be someone able to perceive Coco.'

Unless a person had unusually good eyes or that sort of ability, it would be hard to see.

'A type there was scarcely any of even among the human guests, so I failed to mind it—my oversight.'

Lee Yeon-woo crooked a finger and returned the tea floating in the air back into the cup. When the tea, drifting slow as the Milky Way, settled fully into the cup, Baek Mu-jin fixed his gaze on it as if intrigued.

"Black magic—no… this should be called celestial magic. A fresh application."

"More than that, there's something I'd like to ask."

He'd truly wondered, surely not.

"Is that person not an insider?"

Had he really dragged an ordinary person into this seat?

"You'd have known I could pose a threat."

"I trusted that watch, and I trusted you, too."

"If that's all, I'd be a little taken aback."

"I trusted that child's competence, as well."

"You've a great deal of trust."

And yet the man in the driver's seat seemed not to have recovered from Coco's appearance even now.

"No? No? No?"

"Coco."

"Coco praiseworthy coat!!"

"Coco."

"No!!"

The car's interior was noisy with only Coco, whose position as its partner's 'coat' had been threatened.

"No…!!!"

***

In the end, Lee Yeon-woo failed to change his clothes, and so it was in an all-black coat that he came to meet Director Lee Seon-hae, Writer Hong Gyeong-yeon, and the actor Cha Do-hyeon.