Our Hotel Is Open fo Chapter 18

After seeing off the guests, Lee Yeon-woo thought.

"Have I been ruined."

"Yes."

"Wicked cat."

"No."

"Do you an that?"

Absolutely detestable.

Lee Yeon-woo had seen it. The first-floor lounge, outside of Director Lee Seon-hae and Writer Hong Gyeong-yeon's field of vision. Staring at the three of them from behind—the monster cat. That anxious gaze.

Absurdly, those dewy eyes that seed to say, 'You're really going to leave

behind?'

"It's not as though I'm in any position to run, so please put those eyes away. Where could I even go, shackled as I am to this hotel?"

"Yes…."

"This is well past the point where acting cute will smooth things over."

"Yes…."

"Yes."

He picked Coco up. As if it had never been sulking, the cat purred and rolled in his arms. The fact that sothing this detestable could look this adorable—this must be what Stockholm syndro felt like.

"……."

Anyway, fine.

'At least I left a minimum warning, so I can only trust that those people will exercise restraint.'

He'd been taught that trusting people first was a virtue.

'The problem is less them than .'

What on earth was he supposed to do with this walking general hospital of a body?

"If only I'd spoken well earlier, they'd have worried less."

"Yes."

"But it's not as though they arrived at entirely the wrong conclusion, either."

"Yes."

"What should I have said in that situation for it to have been the right answer?"

Their reaction clearly amounted to, 'Is soone violating your human rights?' Lee Yeon-woo would have drawn a similar conclusion. If he'd been given the sa information as them.

'Granted, no one would believe that a place they stumbled upon after getting lost driving into the mountains was actually…… the inside of a horror hotel managent simulation ga.'

Even calling it a ga, it was objectively a problem situation now that it was reality. He swallowed a sigh and spoke.

"Let's go rest."

"Yes."

He had to do sothing about this 'reduced stamina' status ailnt, at least.

'Things have gotten truly awkward.'

Objectively speaking, Lee Yeon-woo's current situation wasn't that dangerous. He was involuntarily suffering a human rights violation, yes, but the practical threat didn't register as real to him.

'Because it's a ga.'

He was aware that this line of thinking was sowhat dangerous.

'But I'm continuously monitoring that, too. The calm I feel now isn't a delusion born of detachnt from reality. It's an entirely logical sense of relief, arising from a situation that poses no substantive threat.'

ntal anguish? It certainly existed. Things like the bleak, angry sorrow of a dark future and a stupid state in which he couldn't even look after his own body.

But physical pain? Erased clean, as though under anesthesia. On top of that, he could die here and still resurrect.

'It's not that I'm fine just because it's a ga. There are many conditions that make it inherently fine. The ga being one of them.'

He was confined, yes, but he had the goal of escaping. He hadn't resigned himself, nor had he gone numb.

'Above all, having entered the ga he'd lived alongside for 26 years, the one-sided familiarity he felt played a large role in this stable psychology.'

The pixel art had beco reality, sure. But actually seeing it in person brought excitent and delight, not fear. If horror elents had frightened him, he'd never have played a horror ga to begin with.

The only current source of psychological distress was the presence of human guests. Please don't get hurt. Please make it out alive. Barring that, the ceiling of Lee Yeon-woo's personal suffering was annoyance.

'So I'm fine, but….'

He pressed the Operator elevator button firmly.

"Objectively speaking, it's entirely accurate to say I'm not fine at all."

"Yes."

"Yes, I admit it. A complete ss."

Months now, confined in this horror hotel. The monster guests were eccentric, and even successful handling left status ailnts. He got hurt and died at the drop of a hat. Partners for conversation were few.

'Add to that my body having transford into a 19-year-old playable character, and their reaction makes sense.'

Had Lee Yeon-woo been in the guests' position, he too would have worried about the "General Manager." A face that looked barely adult, and it'd seem like abuse in this ominous hotel.

"……."

The elevator arrived at the quarters floor.

"…But it would be troubleso if they learned the true nature of this hotel."

"Yes."

"My thinking as well."

Lee Yeon-woo gently set Coco down on the floor.

"That said, I can't simply leave their questions and curiosity unchecked. Especially not when it stems from a desire to help soone."

Those people are not ga data.

"They're different from the NPCs in Hoone whose behavior patterns were fixed. They could take unexpected action beyond my assumptions at any ti. I don't have set routes morized for them the way I do for the other monsters, so if I let my guard down, so unforeseen variable will inevitably erupt."

He wanted to avoid variables beyond his range of prediction as much as possible.

"So I should narrow their range of action, which paradoxically ans resolving their minimal questions and curiosity. That makes their behavior easier to predict."

"Yes!"

"In that case, I'll have to package this hotel in the most plausibly realistic direction possible…."

And "information that plausibly packages this hotel" had already been prepared. Left alone, they'd assembled it on their own.

"A secretive, high-end psychiatric ward for the morally bankrupt upper class."

"Yes."

"Indeed. If I fra things that way, the bizarre presence of both myself and this hotel becos reasonably explicable. It's a sowhat extre hypothesis, but it's far better than causing needless unease."

"Yes."

"Though in that case, I can't even begin to guess how pitiable they think I am."

He should probably count it a blessing that they didn't suspect him of being in league with the hotel's monster guests.

'Being misunderstood as the perpetrator versus being misunderstood as the victim.'

If he had to choose, the latter was obvious. The consistent goodwill he'd shown was paying off. And this youthful face had surely played no small part. Obvious without even checking.

"I keep saying this, but—it's only because I don't feel threatened in practice. On objective circumstances alone, I am indeed a victim."

"No?"

"How unfortunate."

Apparently taking the situation quite seriously, there was no sign of Coco trying to grab him and bolt. Perhaps it feared further complications. If so, things would proceed fine as they were.

'They're people who'll leave once their stay ends. I just have to make clear by then that I have no intention of leaving this hotel, and block any room for impulsive action.'

Then the imdiate top priority.

"…Convincing them that there's nothing seriously wrong with , I suppose."

In the worst case, presenting himself as 'I am complicit with this wicked hotel' wasn't a bad option either.

If he could make them clearly recognize there was nobody here for them to save, they'd have no reason to stay and take risks.

'But that would deal no small damage to , too, so for now I'll watch a bit longer. No need to volunteer for a loss when the right mont hasn't even co.'

Lee Yeon-woo sat on the bed.

"There is, however, one thing I'm curious about."

"Curious."

"What on earth did Writer Hong Gyeong-yeon imagine to make that kind of face?"

A face gone white. An expression of disbelief. Writer Hong Gyeong-yeon was famous for his breadth of knowledge. Good mory, good imagination, or so they said.

At the ti he'd been focused on wrapping up the conversation, so he'd shelved the thought. Now, back at the quarters, he opened it again. The clues he'd offered were few.

"The summons this morning. Starting there."

"……."

"…Sensory and auditory impairnt that developed within a few hours. Cognitive disruption. Sensory integration failure. Guest who likes water. Dangerous hotel. Dangerous guest. Perpetrator… victim… Operator, manager, employee…."

"……."

"…Higher-order perceptual deficit… TBI. TBI? No external trauma. TLE? No corresponding findings. FND… similar conditions, possibly… no, rather HIBI? Cerebral hypoxia from asphyxiation…? No marks on the neck… can't be certain…."

Every conceivable brain condition spilling from his lips. Which of these would Writer Hong Gyeong-yeon have diagnosed him with?

"……."

"…Water? Right, I clearly said… HIBI… sensory avoidance, dissociation. Dissociative perceptual detachnt… water, hypoxia, sensory disconnection… ah."

"Yes."

"Ah, ahhh… ah wait."

He must have briefly lost his mind. Too long away from social life, and his brain had stalled. But even accounting for that, it was a stupid slip.

However scattered his mind, this was too much. The belated regret hit.

"I shouldn't have ntioned the water-loving guest."

Not ntioning it would have ant being held there longer. It would have been harder to end the situation gracefully. Even without that particular clue, they had room to reach other conclusions.

'Still, I shouldn't have.'

"Water torture" was far too frightening a phrase.

***

"Water torture?"

The expression vanished from Lee Seon-hae's face.

"Did I hear that right?"

"No, well—I'm not certain myself."

"Okay, yes, I'm about to hear an uncertain hypothesis, so let's hear it. I'm listening."

"First, it could be that he was simply absorbed in sothing or ntally distracted, which is why he appeared that way. But the probability of that is fairly low."

Hong Gyeong-yeon explained at the table.

"A quiet, empty space. With minimal environntal stimulation, one should beco more sensitive to external changes. Director, you raised your voice above average. It should have registered aurally."

"Right?"

"We'd entered his field of vision, so a moving person and their presence should have been detected at a basic level. At that point, Mr. Yeon-woo wasn't in a state of deep focus or stress. Well, stress isn't certain—but at least on the surface, he looked relaxed."

"So?"

"External stimuli should have reached his consciousness more easily under normal circumstances. And yet he failed to register the presence of people… which ans it's either a dical or psychological malfunction, and either way it's serious."

"My very own encyclopedia—press the button and out cos the answer."

"Oh, stop."

Hong Gyeong-yeon was neither doctor, detective, nor police. But as a genre writer, he'd researched a great deal and witnessed extre criminal situations firsthand. The data accumulated from that was not to be dismissed.

He had confidence in his information capabilities. He couldn't be a working writer otherwise.

"I ca up with three possibilities."

"Three? All I could think was 'what do I do with this poor kid.' Writer Hong should take the nsa test soti."

"Please. The first is higher-order sensory integration deficit. The second is sensory dissociation. The third is selective perceptual blocking. But the third has low probability."

"You're going to have to dumb that down…."

"Ah—selective perceptual blocking ans being unable to perceive specific individuals or conditions. Think of it as a psychological blockade that consistently fails to register only that one thing."

"That's clearly different from our case. We're not important enough for it to go that far."

"My thought exactly."

That left the sensory deficit and sensory dissociation.

"Higher-order sensory integration deficit refers to the inability to connect audiovisual stimuli into concepts in the brain. It's called agnosia. It primarily manifests when there's been damage to the brain… as I understand it."

"Good god, damage to the brain? I'm going to lose it. Does 119 co if you call them here?"

"Would they? And sensory dissociation is the unconscious blocking of stimuli like people or sounds—the patient doesn't consciously avoid them. Rather, extre distrust and fear cause the brain to shut down the sensory pathways."

"I happen to know an excellent therapist. She'd co if called."

The director, who'd been bantering, let out a sigh.

"…All right, extre distrust and fear?"

"Yes. In simple terms, it's a trauma response."

"Which one's better? I honestly have no idea."

"Both, in all likelihood."

"Heaven help us. Is the world supposed to do this to a kid?"

"Is it?"

Absolutely not.

"The causes behind agnosia or similar sensory impairnts are nurous. Post-seizure complications from the epilepsy family, functional neurological disorder, things like that…."

"Do I look like a doctor to you?"

"I'll try to simplify, so hear

out. Anyway, those don't seem to fit this case. So I first considered physical damage. For instance, strangulation."

"……? Did I mishear sothing?"

"And when there's been a blow to the head, or when function is temporarily reduced as an aftereffect of seizures or epilepsy. Honestly, I don't think that's it either…."

"What's not it?"

"Electrically caused brain abnormalities don't match certain aspects of Mr. Yeon-woo's symptoms and responses. So let's skip that. I also said it could happen with a blow to the head."

"You did."

"I checked his head just in case, but saw no external trauma, so that's probably not it either. A simple blow wouldn't do it. The brain would need to sustain impact inside the skull."

And both vision and hearing were affected. That would require simultaneous damage to the occipital and temporal lobes. An injury of that magnitude should be visible, but it wasn't, so that was ruled out.

"Among the other possibilities, I ntioned strangulation earlier."

"…Yeah, you did."

"If blood flow to the brain is sharply reduced, there can be lasting effects. If the compression is strong, loss of consciousness is possible in as little as ten seconds. Past thirty seconds, brain cells start to suffer damage. And if it continues for two to three minutes, long-term aftereffects can develop. Cognitive impairnt, aphasia, sensory loss, possibly even death…."

"Why is every word out of your mouth this terrifying?"

"The point is, this kind of sensory impairnt is included among those aftereffects. But I couldn't verify it—he dresses so ticulously. Other than his face, there's no exposed skin."

"If he's dressing that way to hide injuries, that's a problem in its own right."

"It's a real possibility, but since I couldn't see for myself, I'll set it aside. Above all—"

"Above all?"

"……."

Gathering his thoughts, Writer Hong Gyeong-yeon spoke.

"Earlier, Mr. Yeon-woo said he 'played' with a 'guest who likes water.' That obviously doesn't literally an the guest likes water or that he played with them."

It literally was a guest who liked water and he really had played with it in warm water. But these two had no way of knowing.

"If sensory impairnt developed in those few hours, the pri suspect would be the seventh-floor guest."

"I agree on that."

"That seventh-floor guest likes water, and dealing with that guest was described as 'playing.' Under those conditions, there's another scenario that could cause both sensory impairnt and dissociation."

"…The thing you ntioned earlier?"

"Yes. In short, an extre survival experience in water."

The writer adjusted his cap.

"A simple trauma alone can't take things that far. dically, it has to have been a dangerous event sufficient to induce actual hypoxia or the collapse of the sensory integration system."

"Ugh, the words keep getting harder. Anyway, so… 'water torture' ca up because of the hypoxia and all that?"

"I did consider other scenarios. Subrsion and near-drowning, for instance. But right now—is there an ocean here? A river? I'm aware of the aqua park, but soone of the General Manager's caliber wouldn't be trapped there by accident."

"If he were, it would an soone did it deliberately."

"And once intent is involved, we call that torture."

The writer's face was still drained of color. But his voice was composed.

"Mr. Yeon-woo went to the seventh floor at the ti. If he didn't go to the aqua park with the guest there, the incident would have occurred inside the guest room."

"And there's nothing inside a guest room that could cause near-drowning."

"Which is why I thought of water torture. That explains both the sensory impairnt and the dissociation."

He searched for sothing and said, "Ah, right, this."

"HIBI."

"Another technical term."

"Hypoxic-ischemic brain injury. Asphyxiation repeated over seconds or tens of seconds, cutting off blood supply to the brain, causing oxygen deprivation, and ultimately damaging higher cognitive function areas."

"……."

"This would also cause psychological problems. A dissociative state arises and the senses are blocked. Facing repeated brushes with death, the brain shuts down external stimuli and activates defense chanisms."

"…I feel a little dizzy."

The director leaned back in her chair.

"So? Does that explain what we saw?"

"Yes, if this condition is truly the case, social stimuli like voices, faces, and the sense of soone's presence can be unconsciously deleted from consciousness. The sensory impairnt works the sa way."

"Yeah?"

"If the occipital and temporal lobes are damaged, you can look at a person and not recognize them as a person. The superior temporal gyrus… I think? Anyway, the auditory side is the sa. You hear voices, but they register only as noise—you can't make out what's being said."

"Writer Hong could be a doctor."

"Of course I can't. That's why we need a professional's judgnt, and… I don't know. This is the limit of what I can speculate."

"Right, that's true."

The director nodded.

"He said he was cold."

"…He did."

"The thing is, it wasn't that cold a day. Above all, Mr. Yeon-woo was dressed ticulously, vest and all. With the humidity that high, I almost wondered if he wasn't overheating. He didn't seem to think anything was off, though."

"……."

"Even for the monsoon in a highland area, it's sumr. So I chalked it up to a lie, or a constitution sensitive to cold, but maybe it wasn't just about temperature. No wonder his skin looked so drained of color."

"…He was coughing, too."

He seed to be covering it up. But unfortunately, the lounge was quiet and they were the only ones there.

"…Mmm…."

After a silence, Director Lee Seon-hae let out a hazy laugh.

"Should we really just grab him and run?"

"You said that could lead to bigger damage."

"I did. God, this is really a bind, isn't it?"

"It is."

"……."

"What are you thinking?"

"…Whether to call our dear uncle…."

"Have you lost your mind?"

The writer recoiled.

"You've spent years saying you want nothing to do with that family."

"And yet who went running to them for help a few tis overseas?"

"Right now is that kind of situation—! I an, yes, it is that kind of situation, but—!"

"I don't know. Let

think on this."

A deep sigh escaped.

"…What the hell are they doing over there."

A truly sickening hotel.

***

anwhile, in the Operator's Quarters.

Lee Yeon-woo, who had fallen asleep fretting over 'how much further can my image possibly fall,' was forced awake before the 'reduced stamina' status ailnt had been recovered.

"……."

Event triggered.

"…Room 703…."

The 'Drenched One,' second event.

Lee Yeon-woo sat up. Coco, who had been sprawled asleep right beside his face, rose too. Its natural stretch was truly like managent. Not even feigning surprise.

One look at Coco, one at the clock, and one at the mirror.

Lee Yeon-woo muttered in a cracked voice.

"I must be going mad."

"Yes."

"Yes."

Let a man sleep.