Welcome to Dungeon Hotel Chapter 368 - Webtoon Side Story: Welcome to Dungeon Hotel Branch 4 (39)

Webtoon Side Story: Welcome to Dungeon Hotel Branch 4 (39)

 

“I see why you suggested having refreshments in the chapel.”

 

Vincent nodded, looking at the sea spread out beyond the unobstructed window.

 

The sea was still dark and cloudy, but it was certainly a scenery much more suitable for drinking tea than the dining room, which lacked proper windows.

 

“Isn’t it?”

 

Junghyo smiled warmly and poured tea into his cup.

 

Then, she placed candied walnuts in front of him.

 

These walnuts were also brought from a farming dungeon, but I decided to serve them with the refreshments because I liked their effect.

 

Wrinkled Walnut (E)

 

—Smooths out a wrinkled heart.

 

…Well, it’s a rather ambiguous effect, but surprisingly, there are quite a few times when such an effect is helpful, so I decided to serve it with the refreshments.

 

Above all, Vincent said he had someone he absolutely wanted to take revenge on, so I hoped it would neutralize that feeling even a little.

 

‘Before he meets that person.’

 

Thinking that, Junghyo stood up from her seat.

 

“Then please enjoy your time.”

 

Vincent replied with a light smile and drank the tea in front of him.

 

He felt the taste of the rather salty and stimulating food neutralizing a bit.

 

In his life, which could be considered long, had he ever had such stimulating and delicious foods?

 

In the empty chapel, he unwittingly let out a small chuckle.

 

It was then.

 

A foreign sound entered his ears.

 

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beeeep— Beeeep— Beeeep—

 

He looked around.

 

At that moment, something like an unknown fog settled around him.

 

“…?”

 

Settling low on the floor, it was slowly drifting towards somewhere.

 

It was a small window in the chapel.

 

And placed by that window was the source of the foreign sound he had just heard.

 

‘What is that?’

 

He stared at what looked like a small machine, then approached it.

 

It was the moment he took a step forward.

 

The surrounding scenery suddenly changed.

 

First, the surroundings grew dark as if the lights had been turned off.

 

He looked up to check if the indoor lights had gone out.

 

The indoor lights had disappeared from the ceiling.

 

“What in the…”

 

When he looked around, only things like oil lamps were lit up everywhere.

 

Since when were these things here?

 

As he looked around feeling puzzled, amidst the room’s scenery that looked patchy due to the nature of oil lamps casting shadows, there was something like an old piece of clothing.

 

The moment he unwittingly reached out to touch the military uniform, a figure passed by outside the door.

 

“Excuse me, the lights here…”

 

Is it the housekeeper?

 

The moment he tried to speak to the housekeeper, the figure quickly disappeared.

 

Left with no choice, he chased the figure out into the corridor.

 

But standing there was a boy wearing pleated pants, a shirt, and a beret.

 

At first, he definitely thought it was the housekeeper.

 

Because the housekeeper also had that youthful look.

 

“Who… are you…”

 

“I’m here to deliver bread today too. The baguette is crispy. Make sure to cut it in half before you eat it.”

 

“A baguette…?”

 

But the boy said something incomprehensible and just went down the stairs.

 

He looked down the stairs the boy had gone down as if possessed, then gave up on going down.

 

He too was old now.

 

He could no longer run down that fast.

 

Time is cruel, but what can you do.

 

Thinking that, he unconsciously cut the baguette in half.

 

Crunch.

 

Just as the boy said, the baguette really broke with a crisp sound.

 

And inside it was an unknown note.

 

Please use the Morse code transmitter/receiver.

 

The moment he saw it, Vincent’s face stiffened.

 

That machine from earlier.

 

Is he saying that’s a Morse code transmitter/receiver?

 

He went back into the chapel. Then he saw the Morse code transmitter/receiver still making that foreign beep, beep sound.

 

Kindly enough, instructions on how to decode Morse code were written in front of the transmitter/receiver.

 

As if it had been waiting for him.

 

‘What is…’

 

Puzzled, he pulled up a chair and sat in front of it as if possessed.

 

‘Just in case…’

 

Just in case.

 

If this happens to be the ‘ghost’ of the Liber Hotel.

 

If a ‘ghost’ is really talking to him.

 

If so—

 

He flipped the baguette note over and picked up the pen placed next to the transmitter/receiver.

 

With slightly trembling hands, he began to write down what he heard.

 

He wrote so intently that he occasionally had to wipe the sweat off his hands.

 

Beep-beep-beep. Beeeep—beeeep—beeeep—

 

Beep. Beeeep— Beep. Beep. Beeeep— Beep.

 

He kept writing and writing the continuous code, until at some point he realized the same code was repeating, and stopped writing.

 

Cutting it off where the repetition began, the code became simple enough to decode quite easily.

 

He slowly wrote down the letters of the alphabet below the code.

 

S… O… R… R…

 

His hand stopped abruptly as he was writing down the last vowel.

 

The moment a simple sequence of letters came together to form a meaning.

 

The moment the meaning of that word struck his heart.

 

‘Sorry.’

 

His brow furrowed.

 

He bit his lip.

 

Sorry, you say.

 

How dare you say that to me?

 

He repeated the things he wanted to say countless times in his head.

 

The things he absolutely wanted to say if he ever met them again.

 

But Morse code was too complicated, and what he wanted to say was too long.

 

So he decided to send just one single word.

 

His eyes darted restlessly between the letters of the alphabet.

 

His hand reached for the transmitter/receiver.

 

Beeeep— Beep. Beep.

 

Finally, Morse code began to flow from his hand.

 

The word was short and concise.

 

DAD.

 

Dad.

 

Countless words swirled in his mouth.

 

Tears welled up in his eyes.

 

When he took his hand off the transmitter/receiver, Morse code flew back once again.

 

Beep-beep-beep. Beeeep—beeeep—beeeep—

 

Beep. Beeeep— Beep. Beep. Beeeep— Beep.

 

‘Sorry.’

 

Like a broken machine, it repeated those words.

 

But it didn’t matter.

 

For some reason, it was a moment when everything ceased to matter.

 

* * *

 

From the empty chapel, a pure white rabbit emerged, panting exhaustedly.

 

I quietly picked it up and hugged it.

 

“Toto…”

 

“Kyuuu…”

 

It was Toto.

 

As the hotel’s level increased, a slot opened up in Liber allowing for employee dispatch.

 

I thought I would never use it—

 

‘To think I’d use it like this.’

 

I carefully stroked the white fur of Toto, who was exhausted from using illusions in a place that wasn’t Dungeon Hotel Branch 1.

 

Of course, there was the option of only using Morse code, but I thought it wouldn’t feel like meeting a ghost, so I used illusions to ensure Mr. Vincent approached the Morse code transmitter/receiver.

 

The young boy delivering bread was also created by Toto.

 

It was said to be the method Resistance members hiding among ordinary citizens used to pass secret codes.

 

Hiding notes among groceries.

 

Thanks to that, Toto became completely exhausted, though.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“Kyuu… (This place seems a bit strange.)”

 

“In what way?”

 

“Kyuu kyuu! (I don’t think it was a hotel. I can’t gather my strength.)”

 

Is it because the level hasn’t gone up yet? Or…

 

I looked towards Mr. Vincent’s room, Room 505.

 

Instead of asking who the person sending the Morse code was, Mr. Vincent went into his room.

 

He had a face that looked deep in thought.

 

A little while ago, Mr. Vincent clearly called the ‘ghost’ ‘Dad’.

 

Fearing our identity might be exposed, we couldn’t exchange more words, but Mr. Vincent cried for a long time in front of the Morse code machine.

 

‘It must have been because of the word ‘sorry’.’

 

Actually, I agonized a lot over what message to send via Morse code.

 

‘To get hints about the ghost, wouldn’t it be important to make him angry?’

 

The manager even suggested taking a direction that provoked Mr. Vincent.

 

But no matter how much I thought about it, something was strange.

 

If it’s someone you want to take revenge on, it’s someone who evoked intense negative emotions in you.

 

But would you want to meet such a person when you don’t have much time left to live?

 

‘Of course, it could be the case if one is consumed by a deep grudge, but…’

 

For some reason, I felt Mr. Vincent wasn’t that kind of person.

 

Someone who keenly notices the goodwill of others.

 

‘Thank you for your consideration.’

 

Someone who, despite a stern face, is not stingy with compliments.

 

‘It’s much more delicious than I expected.’

 

What words would such a person want to hear from the ‘person they want to take revenge on’ who comes to mind at the end of their life?

 

No matter how much I thought about it, there was only one.

 

I’m sorry.

 

If it’s something absolutely unforgivable, it’s better to just forget about it.

 

If it’s something Mr. Vincent, who isn’t the type not to know that, still remembers without forgetting, then there’s only one thing he wants to hear.

 

I’m sorry.

 

Please forgive me.

 

I was wrong.

 

I judged that ultimately, those would be the words he wanted to hear the most.

 

Of course, the possibility that my judgment was wrong couldn’t be ruled out—

 

‘Dad…’

 

Recalling the word Mr. Vincent said in a trembling voice, it seemed I had found the right answer.

 

To think the true identity of Mr. Vincent’s ‘ghost’ was his dad.

 

I felt like I finally understood why Mr. Vincent wanted to meet the person he wanted to take ‘revenge’ on at the edge of his life.

 

It was when I was lost in these thoughts. I saw Grey coming up the stairs. In his hands were an ice bucket and wine.

 

“Mr. Vincent asked to have a bottle of wine delivered tonight.”

 

“Give that here.”

 

“…Ah, I’ll deliver this myself…”

 

When I reached out, for some reason, Grey pulled his hand back.

 

But Grey’s hand was a step too late.

 

I swiftly snatched the wine from Grey.

 

At that moment, something popped up before my eyes.

 

Skill: ‘Hotelier’s Eyes’ activated.

 

Run Through Time, Run! Wine (B)

 

—If you empty the entire bottle, you can go see the past.

 

—Time limit: 5 minutes

 

…What?

 

This… evolved?

 

I looked at the affinity level floating above Grey’s troubled expression.

 

75

 

When did your affinity level go up this high…?