There were many hotels in Seoul. It was only natural, being the capital region. With dozens—perhaps even more—tourists visiting every day, the number of hotels was considerable. While the quality wasn't exceptional, there were plenty of decent places.
It was a peculiar industry where, despite an incredibly high ceiling, the floor wasn't particularly low. It was a phenomenon born naturally in a country where the power of reviews was stronger than in other nations.
I didn't know what the hotel industry insiders thought about it, but from a consumer's perspective, it was nothing but good. Foreigners in particular liked it.
"Oh, is this the land of Cha Bum?"
"The Korean penguins wear padding even in spring. So cool."
The foreigners who came to Korea were usually tourists, and most tourists wanted to stay in good hotels. It was a mindset of paying more rather than experiencing discomfort during their trip, even if it was a bit expensive.
Thanks to this, hotels that offered good quality while charging high rates had departments dedicated to foreigners. While most floor staff could handle basic English without issue, professional interpreters were needed for Spanish, French, German, and the like.
Because of this, the Grand Fiorline Hotel, located in the heart of downtown Seoul, had employees with various foreign language skills on its payroll.
Among them, a French interpreter was currently attending to a guest who had just arrived from France.
"I'll check your reservation, ma'am. Your name?"
"Marianne."
The woman who introduced herself as Marianne possessed quite a beautiful appearance.
A sharp face closer to that of a cat than a puppy. Blue irises and light brown hair harmonized to create the impression that she was a beauty no matter how or where one looked.
But... the clothes she was wearing were devouring her outstanding looks like madness.
A dress commonly called gothic lolita. An outfit that modern people wouldn't dare wear unless it was for cosplay, yet she donned it with an indifferent expression. The parasol she carried bore the design of a black rose, and at the hem of the skirt, which reached her ankles, there was a faint stain, likely from brushing against the heel of her shoe.
"Your room is a suite on the top floor."
She uttered this while stroking her parasol with a hand clad in a snow-white glove. The employee suppressed the urge to ask, 'Where on earth did you get those clothes, and why are you wearing such idiotic shit?' and professionally checked Marianne's reservation.
"Yes, you're confirmed. It's a long-term stay. Two weeks."
"Yes."
"Shall we move your luggage for you? Since it's a long stay, you must have brought quite a lot."
"No, I'll move it myself. Could I just have the key?"
Marianne smoothly extended her gloved hand. Her slender yet long fingers somehow felt slightly sensual. Indeed, pretty people seemed to carry an atmosphere even while wearing such ridiculous clothes and gloves.
"Here you are. Please use the elevator over there."
"Yes, thank you."
Marianne took the card key between her thumb and index finger and smiled brightly. The employee who saw her smile blushed and let out a dry cough.
"Y-yes. Thank you for choosing our hotel, and please don't hesitate to call us should you need anything."
"I understand. Then, may I ask you one thing right now?"
"...? Yes. Please go ahead."
As the employee smiled kindly and spoke, Marianne stared at the card key and answered.
"Has a foreigner named Eddie ever stayed here? A British man."
"...W-well, providing information about other guests is difficult. I'm sorry."
"Can't you?"
Marianne shifted only her eyes to look at the employee. In that instant, the strength drained from the employee's pupils, and her shoulders slumped.
"Please."
"...Ah... j-just a m-moment, p-please. I w-will, check, the rec-ords, r-right, now."
The employee muttered unnaturally and began typing on the keyboard as if entranced.
Shortly after, she looked up at Marianne with a nosebleed.
"H-he isn't here. A p-person, n-named, Edd-ie, n-never, came, to the h-hotel."
"Tch. They already erased the records. The Management Bureau definitely got involved, it seems."
The moment Marianne heard the employee's words, she turned around without hesitation and walked toward the elevator.
Thud!
She heard the sound of someone collapsing behind her and people's screams, but she paid them no heed and called the elevator with a flick of her parasol.
Shortly after, an empty elevator arrived. Marianne stepped inside, pressed the floor where the suite was located, and quietly closed her eyes.
Ding.
[Fifteenth floor.]
The elevator doors slid open sideways upon reaching their destination. She set foot into the hallway, the tip of her pointed parasol scraping against the floor.
The price of using her mystic powers had left one of her irises severely dry, but she endured it by simply closing her eye. It was a problem that would heal after emptying an entire bottle of artificial tears later, so it wasn't a big deal.
'This is the room where Eddie stayed last.'
Marianne walked down the hallway, looking for the room number written on the keycard. That was how she found the suite.
From the outside, the room looked utterly ordinary. All that was visible was a single door, and there was nothing particularly strange about it.
Yes, at least on the outside.
"...."
Marianne was about to hold the card key to the sensor on the door when she stopped her hand at the strange noise coming from the gap in the door handle.
A skittering sound, as if something was crawling. The trembling of antennae, the noise of numerous legs scraping against the floor as if moving away.
No matter how or where one listened, it was the sound of a bug. But it was no ordinary bug.
A bug small enough to fit through the gap of a door handle couldn't possibly make such a loud noise, and it was impossible for it to linger by the handle as if scouting and then hide inside the moment it detected a person.
A bug is a bug. No matter how intelligent, it couldn't surpass the limits of its species.
If such a species existed, it wouldn't be an ordinary bug—it would be a bizarre insect (怪蟲).
Bizarre insect.
It was a term referring to insects born from mystery. Hostile to humans by their very existence, there were even mad specimens that devoured people alive. Most people didn't know, but there were corporations that professionally hunted and cleaned up such bizarre insects.
And there existed a school of magic, originating in Germany, that dealt with these bizarre insects.
"...Tch."
Marianne clicked her tongue and raised her parasol.
It wasn't strange to find bizarre insects there. No matter what, bizarre insects were drawn to places where a magician had died.
But the number of individuals was odd for a naturally occurring bizarre insect.
Usually, bizarre insects appeared in groups in one place. If the thing in the door crack wasn't being controlled by someone and was a bug that appeared naturally, dozens or hundreds should be swarming at once. But the sound she had just heard had clearly come from a single individual.
A hallucination?
Just as she had transplanted an eyeball with hypnotic abilities, she had also ripped out and transplanted a grotesque's ear. A hallucination?
Impossible. Marianne immediately gripped her parasol like a spear and slammed it into the door.
Kwaaang!
The sharp tip of the parasol pierced straight through the door.
Blood splattered. A small bug dangling from the end of the parasol was torn apart and scattered in all directions, and Marianne reached through the torn gap to rip the entire door off its hinges. Lizard-like scales sprouted on her arm.
"Wow, you just ripped that off."
Beyond the forcibly opened door.
A man in a suit stood in the living room. He wore a mask that looked like it belonged in a tokusatsu show, and its design resembled a praying mantis. Marianne stared at him with ice-cold eyes, then stepped into the suite and opened her mouth.
"This is the room I reserved. Who are you to set foot in here?"
"What are you saying. Is that French? I only know English and Korean. English, please."
The man answered cheekily and snapped his fingers. Then, things that looked like cockroaches crawled out from the gaps in the ceiling, bearing saw blades where their wings should have been. Marianne furrowed her brows.
"Disgusting bastards...."
"Oh, I'm fine, thank you."
"Bizarre Insect Mage, did you kill Eddie? What is your purpose for being here? Where and how did you get in?"
"Finally speaking English, I see. I'll answer you myself."
Skitter.
The lower jaw of the praying mantis mask the man was wearing trembled. A maggot-like creature crawled out from inside his ear hole.
"First, I didn't kill Eddie. Second, the reason I'm here is to procure insects. Third, I don't really know exactly where I came in from. Seems like I have amnesia."
Marianne's face contorted at the blatant mockery.
"...Do you want to die?"
"You're the one who wants to die. You're Marianne, right? Gothic lolita, brown roll-cake hair, blue eyes. A parasol like a spear. Your features are so well-known that it'd be harder not to recognize you."
"...."
"Your reason for coming here is obvious. So let me ask you something else instead of your purpose."
The man giggled and pulled a butterfly out from between his sleeves.
"Were your parents delicious when you tore them apart and ate them yourself?"
"...Tch."
Marianne didn't answer. Instead, she unfurled her parasol and stabbed her scale-covered arm deep into the wall.
The man stepped back and snapped his fingers sharply. At that, the cockroaches covering the ceiling simultaneously began rotating their saw blades and dropped down toward Marianne.
Sssk, Kwaaang!!
A thunderous roar erupted from the upper floor of the hotel.
*
The morning after the rookie magician who had picked up a grimoire appeared.
Ian lay quietly on his bed, looking at his phone.
[A newbie! A genuine newbie! Unlike a used newbie who rotted in record time after posting about making a knife immediately upon entering the gallery, a real genuine newbieeee!]
(Magician Illuwhite Con)
I'll bombard you with so many welcomes. I'll shove so much unknown knowledge into you that your neurons get pregnant.
[Comments]
-Average magician, you fucking bastard, don't talk like that. Fuck, come with a fixed username.
ㄴAre you telling me to write this kind of post with a fixed username right now?
[A Newbie Must See]
[TamingMaster]
(Front-facing photo of a frog)
Hi? I'm the leader of the I Love Grotesques So Much fan club. Let's get along from now on?
[Comments]
-Kim Ari: Yes! I look forward to your kind cooperation as well!
ㄴTamingMaster: ? What is this real-name kamikaze?
ㄴKim Ari: Huh?
[Everyone, is it not allowed to use your real name here? It's my first time on a community board like this ㅠㅠ]
[Kim Ari]
(Photo of light coming from a finger)
Is there a penalty for using your real name? Dolores-nim didn't teach me about that ㅠㅠㅠ
This is a photo of the first magic I succeeded at.......
[Comments]
-No, it's fine to use your real name. It just means your identity is revealed.
ㄴKim Ari: Ah, I see! Thank you for letting me know! Then it should be okay to keep it as is!
ㄴFuck, your tone. Don't use honorifics. This is actually forbidden. Only hardcore concept freaks use honorifics.
ㄴKim Ari: Ah, really? Then should I just use casual speech?
ㄴYeah
ㄴKim Ari: Got it.
ㄴHoly shit, it's Malphite.
ㄴKim Ari: What's that ㅠㅠㅠ
ㄴIt'sHot: You lose.
ㄴKim Ari: ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ
-Congrats on your magic success. But don't go around telling people what your grimoire is, and don't go saying you have a grimoire. You'll end up targeted by hunters.
-Kim Ari: Got it! Thanks for the advice!
ㄴFuck, this is the taste of a newbie. You see this, you used-newbie piece of shit? If you're seeing this, make a fucking fixed username!
-SeriousMagicAddict: Welcome, to the world of mad magicians. Check the announcements first, and if you don't know something, make a post. There are plenty of people here to answer.
ㄴKim Ari: Yeah! Thanks!
ㄴSeriousMagicAddict: Who said you could talk casually to me when I just met you?
ㄴKim Ari: ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ
ㄴSeriousMagicAddict: (Magician Joke Con)
Ian watched the continuous parade of posts and comments unfolding in real time, then sneakily left a comment of his own.
-Anon: If there's anything you don't know, send me a message. I'll answer with all my heart ㅎㅎ
ㄴFuck, make a fixed username.
No matter what, he couldn't just ignore hazing a newbie.