Chapter 3

Since there was no answer, he decided to think positively for now.

“Nice weather.”

“No.”

“……”

Tap, tap…

The faint sound of raindrops.

“…Right, I was talking nonsense. I admit it.”

The weather outside this hotel was basically always terrible.

No matter when he looked out the window, there was only thunder, heavy rain, or fog. Today, it was just a light drizzle, which meant it was relatively mild—by this place’s standards.

But that didn’t mean it was good weather.

“I’m in a state where I want peace of mind, even if I have to say nonsense. If you cooperate, at least you won’t see me die from high blood pressure.”

He glanced at Coco sitting on his lap.

“Frequent deaths of a co-manager would be troublesome for you too, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll take that as a positive answer.”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

There was no misfortune quite like this.

“It’s been a while since I visited my family home… If I knew my life would become this dramatic, I would have gone earlier. I’m really paying the price for putting people off instead of work.”

“……”

“Are you choosing silence now?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know if you’ve become more perceptive or learned consideration, but… that helped.”

“Yes.”

“The fact that your blunt answers sound cute… I must be strange.”

“No.”

“Well, from your perspective, it’s a good strategy. Gaining favor from coworkers is basic social life. I’d even praise you for it.”

Lee Yeonwoo got up from the bed. It was large and soft.

“Let’s change the topic a bit.”

“Yes.”

“I think this every time I wake up—what do you think is the principle behind this bed? How does simply sleeping remove abnormal conditions?”

“Hello.”

…Didn’t know, or just didn’t want to answer?

“…Still, I think it’s worth researching.”

This body too.

“It seems like a result of game mechanics… but that’s the outcome, not the process.”

“Yes.”

“I’m glad you agree with me, Coco.”

As expected of a horror game, the operator would suffer various status effects—mental contamination, coughing blood, even crying blood.

And most of them were cured after sleeping in the “operator’s room.”

‘Some conditions can’t be cured even by sleep or death—but that’s for later.’

For now, it wasn’t something to worry about in the tutorial.

‘Still, this isn’t a body that actually needs sleep.’

Same with food. It only solved certain conditions that sleep couldn’t.

This body didn’t require sleep or food like a normal human.

“….”

…It really was an interesting topic.

“I’d like to try cooking if possible.”

“No.”

“Yes, I remember. I can’t cook until I finish the tutorial. Recipes unlock by level…”

He looked away dryly.

“You’re going to tell me to finish the tutorial first, right?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t cooperate with a system that requires unnecessary sacrifice. I’m already properly serving monster guests—shouldn’t that be enough?”

“No.”

“This is where compromise comes in.”

He didn’t even have the usual interface.

Since the game became reality, it might have disappeared—or maybe it only unlocks after the tutorial.

‘Once the tutorial ends, life might become more convenient.’

Cooking, hunting, music… even locked areas would open.

‘The hotel’s front door would open too.’

That’s why Coco kept telling him—to accept human guests.

He understood the intention, but…

“No matter what, I can’t bring people into this place. I’m not that young, and I’m educated enough to know better.”

“No.”

“This isn’t about morality or ethics.”

He spoke plainly.

“I just can’t stand causing trouble.”

“Yes.”

“And if someone gets hurt or dies in front of me… I feel dizzy. My stomach hurts just thinking about it.”

“No.”

“I see. You think I’m pretty tough. Well, I am 19 after all.”

That was an overestimation.

“But this hotel doesn’t treat operators kindly, does it?”

He could go insane at any time.

“If I lose my mind, I might open the doors myself. I have limits too. If I cross them, I might do something crazy.”

“Yes.”

“But right now, by my standards, that’s clearly a crime.”

“Yes.”

“…Still, I don’t want to do it.”

Day 100 of hotel confinement.

“…Let’s stop chatting here.”

Lee Yeonwoo still hadn’t finished the tutorial.

* * *

“Thank you for visiting.”

“……”

Humanoid. No response to conversation.

Long, wet hair clung unpleasantly to its thin body. Its soaked clothes dripped water with every step.

Its eyes were dull, reflecting no light. Its complexion looked like a corpse.

‘So…’

The conditions appeared in his mind.

• Increased use of water systems — not met
• Drowning trauma or survivor’s guilt — not met
• Humidity over 60% and rain forecast — met

The sound of rain grew clearer.

“……”

Condition fulfilled.

“What can I help you with?”

The “guest” stayed silent.

All sounds faded—except the rain, pressing against his ears.

The smell of dampness mixed with metallic blood.

‘Humidity contamination warning.’

His fingertips turned ice cold.

‘Hypothermia confirmed.’

He felt the urge to run—but movement was forbidden during check-in.

‘Water-binding pressure increasing.’

In simple terms: mental contamination.

‘…Pretty aggressive today.’

He wanted to quit—but there was nowhere to go.

‘Let’s see…’

Type: Common to both versions
Danger: High
Tracking-type entity

Name:

『The Wet Person』

“….”

‘This isn’t supposed to appear in the tutorial.’

‘Looks like my 100-day prayer reached hell, not heaven.’

“What would you like?”

“…Two nights, three days. Understood.”

These guests were normally assigned to the 7th floor—but never Room 707.

That room caused disasters for an entire week.

‘And I’m the one who has to deal with it.’

If assigned elsewhere, the operator drowns.

‘I don’t have the luxury to deal with a water ghost’s tantrums.’

“Room 703.”

He handed over the key calmly, despite the cold water touching his hand.

“Please enjoy your stay.”

Water pooled where the guest stood.

“…Great.”

One of its traits—leaving water everywhere.

‘The staff are going to be busy again.’

He rang a bell. Staff silently appeared.

“Please take care of it.”

They cleaned quickly and silently.

Watching them leave, he thought—

“…They look human, but they’re not.”

“…”

“They’re not even like androids…”

“Yes.”

“No breathing, no machine sounds… not even footsteps.”

It almost felt intentional.

“Like they’re trying to say they’re not human.”

“Yes.”

“In the game, they were described as ‘part of the hotel born from its resources.’”

“Yes.”

“But now that it’s real… it doesn’t make biological sense.”

They all had different faces—but identical smiles.

“…Strange.”

“Am I biased to assume they have voices just because they look human?”

“No.”

“I hoped we could talk more now that it’s real… but that’s disappointing.”

“Yes.”

There were many types of monsters:

• 66 monster guests
• 13 master monsters
• 13 servant monsters
• 16 phenomena

‘Total: 108 entities.’

“Coco…”

“Yes.”

“What kind of monster are you?”

“No.”

“Then… a staff monster?”

“No.”

“…So none?”

Coco didn’t generate “nightmare energy” like others.

“Maybe because you are the hotel itself.”

“Yes.”

“I see. No wonder your attitude is different.”

Then that made sense.

‘Same for me.’

He was the owner and manager.

Like a butler and master.

‘But if the user disappears, the hotel stops.’

He petted Coco. It nestled into him.

“…Really.”

“What an irony.”

“I hold the hotel’s leash… and the hotel holds my chains.”

“When will you open the door?”

“No.”

“…You must be crazy.”

At this rate… he might grow attached.