Welcome to Dungeon Hotel Chapter 366 - Webtoon Side Story: Welcome to Dungeon Hotel Branch 4 (37)

Webtoon Side Story: Welcome to Dungeon Hotel Branch 4 (37)

 

The library mostly held terrible materials.

 

To give one example, it went like this.

 

…The old castle of Liber was called the graveyard of the Black Death during the Middle Ages. Countless people died there, and because there was no place to bury the bodies within the castle, corpses were sometimes piled up in the nearby vineyards. So some people even called Liber wine ‘blood water’.

 

Terrible.

 

It was when I was thinking that.

 

“This is too terrible.”

 

The exact same thought came out of the manager’s mouth, who was reading a different book across from me.

 

“Why?”

 

“There was a huge war in this region during the time of the Holy Empire, and it says the people hiding in Liber Castle all burned to death when a massive fire broke out in the castle.”

 

“Even a fire…”

 

I thought I should move forward my plan to install fire doors on every floor.

 

And right then, an email from Luisa arrived perfectly on time.

 

Hello. I am sending the materials you requested.

 

The French Hunter Union is always ready to cooperate with Dungeon Hotel Branch 4, and we ask that you share this fact with the Korean Hunter Association…

 

“…?”

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“No. It’s just that the tone is a bit…”

 

Should I say it’s become affectionate? Or servile?

 

In the email, Luisa was actively appealing how much they were cooperating with Dungeon Hotel Branch 4.

 

“…No, it’s nothing. That’s not what’s important…”

 

I also forwarded the materials sent by the French Hunter Union to the manager and said.

 

“I skimmed through it, and there’s nothing much different from the materials we’ve found so far. But there’s a rather peculiar statement written in the email—”

 

I don’t know if this will be of any help, but the old castle of Liber is a place I have personally heard of in the past.

 

My late grandfather was active in the Resistance at that old castle. So, although it’s hardly recorded, I know that part of the Paris Resistance operated using that place as a base.

 

He said they operated by sending Morse code using a transmitter from the chapel. It’s not a story with official records, but I’m sending this just in case it helps.

 

“It’s said that because the villagers who helped many Resistance members at the time were frequently caught and executed by the Nazis, there were rumors that ghosts with deep grudges against the Nazis roamed the old castle, but thanks to that, Resistance activities became easier.”

 

I read the email sent by Louisa Villani to the manager.

 

And reading the last line in particular, I smacked my lips. The end of stories intertwined with Liber Castle was always like this.

 

Ghosts with deep grudges roam the old castle.

 

…To think it ends like that.

 

It certainly seems this old castle remained as not-so-good memories for some people.

 

‘And Mr. Vincent must be among them.’

 

Since he said there’s a ghost he wants to take revenge on.

 

Who could it be?

 

A famous Nazi officer who built up grudges from the villagers? Or an informer?

 

I looked at the materials we gathered that seemed as relevant to Vincent as possible.

 

“But considering Mr. Vincent’s age, isn’t there a gap to say he participated directly in the war when France was engulfed in flames? Especially since Ms. Luisa’s grandfather passed away 30 years ago already.”

 

The manager said then, as if she found it puzzling.

 

“Um… that’s true, but he lived in this neighborhood when he was young, and he might have experienced something then that could harbor a grudge.”

 

It would be nice if I could ask Vincent for more details, but Vincent didn’t tell me anything more.

 

I asked once, but he made such an agonizing face that I was even afraid his satisfaction level might drop, so I couldn’t press him further.

 

“That’s true.”

 

The manager nodded.

 

“But if that’s the case, isn’t it more difficult? If it’s something Mr. Vincent experienced when he was young, it’s highly likely it’s not left in official documents, and unless Mr. Vincent tells us, it’s hard to know who the ‘ghost’ he wants to meet is.”

 

She was right.

 

As the manager said, if it’s a person he met when he was young and built a personal grudge against, it’s difficult to find through records.

 

Even so, I couldn’t create an unidentified ‘fake’ ghost and show it to Vincent as I had done with the Ghost Story Club members so far.

 

Judging from how he spoke, there was a high probability that Vincent was someone who knew the history of this old castle well.

 

The reason he chased after ghost stories would also be due to personal history rather than acts based on curiosity like the other members.

 

In the end, what’s important for Vincent is to let him meet the specific ‘ghost’ he wants to meet.

 

And the reason I wanted to do what Vincent wanted wasn’t necessarily because of money.

 

It wasn’t just because of satisfaction either…

 

It was when I was about to leave the room with the Greys.

 

When I asked about the ghost, Vincent had said with an agonized face.

 

‘If I could just meet them once, I want to show them how hard I had it, and I absolutely want to receive an apology from that person. If I can do that, maybe I… won’t be afraid to die.’

 

‘Die? What do you mean by that.’

 

‘I was diagnosed with a heart condition not long ago. The doctor said it’s like I’m living with a time bomb in my heart. They say normal time bombs have a set time to explode, but my bomb doesn’t have a set time. It wouldn’t be strange if it exploded at any moment.’

 

‘…!’

 

‘I absolutely want to take revenge on ‘that person’ before I die. I don’t know if meeting me will be revenge, but… If they have a conscience, usually when they meet someone who had a hard time because of them, they might feel something called guilt.’

 

I can’t forget the face Vincent made when he said those words.

 

His face held remorse and sadness that I could hardly fathom.

 

And perhaps because I heard those words, the numerous stories I read in the records today didn’t feel like someone else’s business.

 

Even though the records were merely a dry transmission of information in print.

 

“You’re right. As expected, it seems difficult to find out through records.”

 

I said while manually closing the records spread out on the library desk one by one.

 

“Excuse me? Then…”

 

“…I think we shouldn’t try to find out, but let Mr. Vincent say it himself.”

 

“Are you suggesting we persuade Mr. Vincent? But wouldn’t that carry some risk? Mr. Vincent seems to believe he can really meet that ‘ghost’, but if we ask first, the credibility of the ‘ghost’ drops. And it’s also unknown whether Mr. Vincent will tell us his story…”

 

“Maybe trying to deceive Mr. Vincent by creating a fake ‘ghost’ to begin with is the problem itself. It might be better to just ask Mr. Vincent his story directly and help with what we can help with…”

 

While saying that, I suddenly looked at the title of the book I had just closed.

 

The History of the Resistance Seen Through Morse Code

 

Seeing the word Morse code reminded me of what Matthew said after the hide-and-seek game ended.

 

‘Um, by the way. Were there really ten players in the game today? I definitely felt Morse code.’

 

And Louisa clearly said the Resistance operated through Morse code too.

 

Wait a minute.

 

Come to think of it, does a ghost necessarily have to have a ‘physical form’?

 

A ghost is literally a ‘ghost’, isn’t it?

 

Why have I been continuously obsessing only over the appearance of a ghost until now? The appearance of the ghost isn’t what’s important.

 

It was when I was thinking that.

 

The manager sighed and said.

 

“Well, that’s true. I also think it’s not good to deceive guests. Still, having come all this way, thinking of going back without salvaging a single thing makes me feel a bit—”

 

“No. It’s not that we didn’t salvage anything. I think thanks to coming here, we have something we can do.”

 

I picked up the book [The History of the Resistance Seen Through Morse Code] and smiled toward the manager.

 

At that, the manager tilted her head.

 

“Morse code?”

 

“A Morse code transmitter/receiver?”

 

Upon returning to the hotel, the first person I sought out was Master Craftsman Lim Se-hwan.

 

Master Craftsman Lim Se-hwan furrowed his brow upon seeing the Morse code transmitter/receiver in the book I held out.

 

“For something like this, rather than going through a crafting-class Hunter like me, it would be better to search antique shops—”

 

The Master Craftsman spoke as if his pride as a crafting-class Hunter wouldn’t allow him to manufacture such an ordinary item.

 

If he comes out like this, I have no choice but to play dirty too.

 

“Master Craftsman. I understand you plan to sign a pop-up store contract next month as well…”

 

“Ah, actually I had something to tell you regarding that contract.”

 

“Yes, please tell me.”

 

“I think I can make a Morse code transmitter/receiver within 1 hour.”

 

As expected, the effect of money was swift and powerful.

 

Of course it is, considering it’s the power of capital that made even thousand-year-old mice kneel at once.

 

“Thank you, Master Craftsman.”

 

“I am even more thankful to you, Landlord.”

 

We bowed our heads toward each other.

 

It was what they call a ‘cool deal’.