Welcome to Dungeon Hotel Chapter 332 - Webtoon Side Story: Welcome to Dungeon Hotel Branch 4 (3)

Webtoon Side Story: Welcome to Dungeon Hotel Branch 4 (3)

 

“Dad.” 

 

“Mhm?” 

 

My dad’s face, bright and cheerful as he served up cheonggukjang wearing an apron, looked completely at ease. 

 

Honestly, he seemed more like the “ideal wife and mother” than anyone else.

 

“Why have you been constantly bringing side dishes to Woohyun lately?”

 

“…!”

 

“Don’t ask me how I know.”

 

Could I not know?

 

This side dish set. This container. It’s exactly the same as the ones in Han Woo-hyun’s fridge.

 

“Family looks out for each other…”

 

Since the funeral, Dad had often called Han Woohyun “family.”

 

So far, Woohyun didn’t seem to mind being called that, so it wasn’t really an issue—but still, it was a strange way to address someone.

 

And if some weird camaraderie formed between “family” like this—

 

“Ah, the so-called ‘close associate’… it’s Dad.”

 

“…”

 

I quietly watched Dad set down the stew bowl.

 

“You see… it’s not like I meant to do that. I was just drinking with the village chief, and our Woohyun’s name came up.”

 

“Not ‘our Woo-hyun,’ just Woohyun.”

 

Why is he ‘our’ Woohyun?

 

He’s my Woohyun.

 

“…Right, just Woohyun. Woohyun came up in conversation, so I said that our Woohyun’s dream is about an ideal wife and mother. Seems like that village chief passed it on to some reporters. And one of them asked if you’re getting married, does that mean the Dungeon Hotel will close…?”

 

What the heck?

 

What does my marriage have to do with running the hotel?

 

“Seems like the village chief got a little carried away and blurted out that Woohyun’s dream is to have an ideal wife and mother…”

 

The phrase “got carried away” instantly brought to mind the village chief’s proud face, always boasting about the hotel.

 

‘The pride of our Yeongchun-myeon, a real pride!’

 

While I was momentarily speechless, Dad shyly slid the cheonggukjang toward me.

 

“This is cheonggukjang the village chief served himself.”

 

I looked at the steaming, savory-smelling stew and realized.

 

Ah… so this was a bribe.

 

I sighed and picked up my spoon.

 

The cheonggukjang, along with the finely chopped pork, was perfect as it entered my mouth.

 

The taste of a bribe

 

But there was one problem that even this bribe couldn’t fix.

 

The media frenzy.

 

From the day after the article came out, a strange atmosphere began to settle over the surrounding businesses.

 

The number of outsiders who didn’t look like tourists had increased.

 

They seemed to be disguising themselves as tourists, but the local merchants—accustomed to dealing with actual tourists—could spot their true identities instantly.

 

“It’s a reporter, huh.”

 

“Hey, Mr. Reporter! One plate of squid sausage for you~”

 

“I-I’m not a reporter, though?”

 

Even if the journalists pretended to take selfies for social media, they couldn’t hide the fact that their attention kept darting around, asking questions instead of focusing on the food in front of them. The owners noticed immediately.

 

“Excuse me…” 

 

“What do you want to ask? I don’t know. Boss Yeongchun is super secretive, and so am I!”

 

“Yes?” 

 

Fortunately, it was impossible for the journalists to get anything from the merchants who had already caught on.

 

And entering the Dungeon Hotel was out of the question for them as well.

 

The only downside was that privacy would be slightly reduced—but Min Kangjin said it was a problem that would naturally resolve over time.

 

“Don’t worry. This kind of attention tends to die down faster than you think.” 

 

“Is that so…?” 

 

“Of course. If you don’t appear in the spotlight for a while, people’s attention naturally shifts to other issues. Sometimes it even shifts too much—it becomes a problem, really.”

 

Min Kangjin said that he’s been living as a “regular person” while taking a break from his recent projects.

 

Perhaps because of that, his hair was messy, and he had his hoodie pulled up—completely different from the charismatic image he used to show on stage.

 

He even goes camping with the members he used to be in the same group with, apparently.

 

“Still, it seems like you have no complaints.”

 

“Of course not.”

 

Min Kangjin smiled with a relaxed expression.

 

“Why don’t you take this opportunity to go on a proper vacation? Or perhaps make a business trip to Dungeon International?”

 

A business trip.

 

Perhaps that word is what caught my attention.

 

Around that time, the thought began to form that I could no longer postpone the opening of Dungeon Hotel 4th Branch, which I had been putting off. 

 

* * *

 

“Long time no see, Director Lee Junghyo.”

 

Waiting for me at Charles de Gaulle Airport was Louisa.

 

Louisa Villani.

 

Wearing jeans, a neat black T-shirt, and a loose jacket, she looked surprisingly casual for a world-class crafting-type Hunter.

 

But thinking of Aunt Misoon, also a crafting Hunter, it wasn’t that shocking.

 

‘She wears three-stripe slippers with a checkered shirt.’

 

And regardless of the season—spring, summer, fall, or winter—she always wore cropped pants.

 

‘But now, I’m no longer just a Hunter—she calls me Director.’

 

I was conscious of Louisa’s new form of address as we exchanged brief greetings.

 

The French Hunter Guild she belonged to had requested that I open Dungeon Hotel Branch 4 in the outskirts of Paris.

 

Of course, ever since I realized that opening Dungeon Hotel branches was possible, proposals had come in from multiple countries.

 

Some offered enormous sums of money, others offered extraordinary treatment.

 

Still, I decided to accept Louisa’s proposal because of the quest where I had encountered this Special Revolving Door.

 

The story of Juliette Delphy and Young that I had seen at the Gyeongseong Hotel.

 

Black Owen was involved in that story, and because of Owen, I became the president of the hotel. So it seemed meaningful to establish a presence in France, Juliette’s homeland.

 

Opening a branch domestically was out of the question.

 

Uncle Junsoo had suggested I consider a branch in Seoul, but that was difficult for me. If the hotel became a bigger topic in Korea, my private life would be too restricted.

 

“But what about this person?”

 

It was then that Louisa pointed to a man standing beside me.

 

“Ah, this is—”

 

“You can think of me as a bodyguard.”

 

“…?”

 

Han Woohyun muttered some nonsense, but Louisa cut him off like a blade. She said it in English.

 

“You must be Hunter Han Woohyun.”

 

“….”

 

Han Woo-hyun pressed his baseball cap down firmly.

 

Did he really think no one would recognize him?

 

Even in Europe, he was taller than the average adult man—and these days his face was fairly well known, too.

 

The reason Han Woo-hyun had come along was simple.

 

He said you never knew what might happen, so he insisted on volunteering as my “bodyguard.”

 

Given that I had the master key, it felt a bit pointless, but after the scandal our time together had dropped sharply anyway, so I allowed him to come along—half as a trip together.

 

“I’ve been hoping for the chance to make a weapon for you someday. Next time, instead of Master Hwang Misoon, please consider using the Villani shop as well.”

 

“…I’ll think about it.”

 

Villani subtly promoted her shop, and Han Woo-hyun gave a halfhearted reply.

 

Even so, Han Woo-hyun was quietly stubborn, and there was no way he would change the weapon maker he trusted.

 

“First, let’s check out the hotel site,” I quickly shifted the topic.

 

* * *

 

The schedule in France was more relaxed than I had expected.

 

We had reached an agreement with the French labor union to purchase a small hotel near Paris, and I would have full autonomy over its management and operation.

 

Other minor details still needed to be finalized, and Luiza was going to prepare the documents and bring them in a week.

 

“There are such small, old hotels in Europe, huh.”

 

I was quite satisfied with the hotel site.

 

It was located in a quiet suburban area, relatively peaceful, and both the exterior and interior were very well maintained.

 

This hotel had a small, beautiful garden that, long ago, had been created by the current owner’s grandfather.

 

A fountain with a charming baby angel statue, carefully maintained rose bushes—it all carried the charm and romantic feel of a small, old hotel.

 

“If you go toward Nice, you’ll find more places like this. In France, summer vacations are highly valued, so people travel domestically quite often as well.”

 

I nodded at her words.

 

After all, the hotel business is inseparable from tourism.

 

So even if domestic tourism has become more active than before, it’s understandable that hotels in Europe, which operate on a larger scale, are more thriving.

 

“Still, it’s amazing that a hotel in such a small town is so well maintained. Are there many tourists here as well?”

 

I asked the elderly hotel manager who was showing me around the property.

 

“There used to be quite a few visitors, but recently, not so much. Young French people these days don’t like traveling to the countryside.”

 

So it’s a similar trend here as well.

 

“Besides, there isn’t much to see in the upper part of town.”

 

“Not much to see? I heard there are old castles and monasteries left around here.”

 

I took out a map and pointed to the places I had learned about during my preliminary research in the area.

 

When I said that, the manager chuckled.

 

“Well… if no rats show up there, consider it lucky. Apparently, people tried running lodging there too, but no one goes. Over by the beach, there are remnants of trenches from the World War, and they say ghosts in strange uniforms appear there. Like soldier ghosts, you know.”

 

Ghosts…?

 

I recalled what I had heard at the real estate office when I first arrived in Yeongchun.

 

Back then, the townspeople had mistaken Geumdong for a ghost.

 

‘But Geumdong was just a good-natured retriever…’

 

Anyway, rumors have a way of getting twisted so easily.

 

That’s what I thought.