Welcome to Dungeon Hotel Chapter 371 - Webtoon Side Story: Welcome to Dungeon Hotel Branch 4 (42)

Webtoon Side Story: Welcome to Dungeon Hotel Branch 4 (42)

 

When Vincent opened his eyes, he was sitting in an unfamiliar place.

 

His entire body was bound, and cool air enveloped him.

 

Where is this?

 

He looked around, slowly regaining his senses.

 

Before closing his eyes, he was definitely drinking wine with the hotel boss.

 

The hotel boss was someone who gave off as subtle an impression as this hotel.

 

‘My father also left me when I was young. He sacrificed himself to stop a dungeon break.’

 

Her voice, speaking so calmly, had the power to draw people in.

 

‘I think I also hated and resented my dad, just like you, Mr. Vincent.’

 

When her eyes widened as she told her old story, it felt as if I was being sucked into them.

 

‘Even though he said he’d definitely come back… even though he promised… I’m still waiting, but he’s not coming… Every day was painful, sad, and I missed him.’

 

Was it because of her words?

 

He, who usually didn’t drink heavily, naturally emptied a bottle of wine.

 

As the saying goes, the best side dish is the person you’re with. Because the hotel boss was such an excellent conversationalist, he didn’t even realize he had exceeded his usual alcohol tolerance.

 

Moreover, Liber’s wine was quite excellent.

 

Was there such a decent winery in northern France?

 

Furthermore, Liber’s wine gave no feeling of intoxication no matter how much he drank.

 

That was all due to the blessing of the oak barrel squirrels and the wine-making mice—that is, the spirits of the food service industry—but Vincent didn’t know that.

 

He simply blinked his eyes closed, intoxicated by the wine smoothly sliding down his throat.

 

And when he opened his eyes, a fierce-looking man was staring at him.

 

“Hey, old man.”

 

“What…?”

 

Vincent looked at the man with a dumbfounded face. Thinking he had been kidnapped while drunk, he flailed his arms wildly.

 

But doing so wouldn’t easily free his arms bound to the chair.

 

‘I’m tied up.’

 

Feeling the ropes tightening the more he moved, Vincent furrowed his brow sharply.

 

Looking to his side, the hotel boss was tied up similarly to him.

 

But for some reason, she didn’t look particularly panicked.

 

“Who the hell are you to sneak into this Liber Abbey? Did the SS recruit even old men like you? Making you play spy dragging around a girl like that?”

 

The man said, pointing at the hotel boss tied up next to him.

 

SS…?

 

Liber Abbey…?

 

Hearing those words, Vincent examined his surroundings more closely.

 

Then, a chapel with a structure similar to the Liber Hotel he was staying in caught his eye.

 

The worn-out clothes, the Morse code transmitter, even the stale scraps of bread—the details were strangely similar.

 

‘To what I saw in the illusion.’

 

Vincent scowled fiercely and spoke to the hotel boss sitting next to him.

 

“What exactly are you scheming this time? This kind of prank isn’t funny anymore, so please stop.”

 

“…….”

 

But the hotel boss gave no answer.

 

Rather, an answer came from another man entering through the doorway.

 

“Prank? Everyone here is risking their lives. It’s a world scumbags like you who sold their souls to the SS wouldn’t understand.”

 

“What do you mean SS…”

 

Vincent was about to say something, but closed his mouth upon seeing the face of the man who had just answered.

 

Vincent’s eyes widened.

 

His brown eyes fixed on one spot.

 

As the oil lamp light, which had been strongly striking only Junghyo and Vincent, illuminated the man who just entered, the man’s features clearly registered on Vincent’s optic nerve.

 

They were familiar features.

 

A man who had remained in his head—at first as a memory, and later as a faded photograph.

 

Thump.

 

His heart beat wildly.

 

Vincent bit his lip.

 

“Y-you…”

 

It was then.

 

He saw something dart out from his side.

 

Before he could even register that it was Junghyo, and that she had pushed the fierce man aside and headed toward the entrance in a flash, Junghyo’s movement was faster.

 

‘Incredible.’

 

While Vincent was marveling, the fierce-faced man shouted toward Junghyo.

 

“You…!”

 

While the shoved man hesitated, Junghyo stopped at the entrance and looked at Vincent.

 

She spoke to Vincent.

 

“This time, it really isn’t a prank, Mr. Vincent.”

 

Her hair fluttered in a breeze blowing from somewhere.

 

Without blinking her pitch-black eyes even once, she said.

 

“I hope you make a choice that leaves no regrets.”

 

“…!”

 

It was when Vincent’s eyes widened.

 

“Catch her!”

 

The man standing in front of Vincent yelled to the fierce-faced man.

 

Then the fierce-faced man quickly got back up. Running towards Junghyo, he said.

 

“Jean! You stay here and keep an eye on that man!”

 

The man called Jean nodded and looked down at Vincent with a fierce face.

 

“Who exactly are you people?”

 

But Vincent couldn’t say anything.

 

He merely asked this in a low voice.

 

“Is your name Jean Jourdan?”

 

“…!”

 

Jean’s eyes widened.

 

Jean seemed flustered, but soon grabbed Vincent by the collar.

 

“How do you know my name? Are you from Paris?”

 

Feeling a tightening sensation in a corner of his chest, Vincent scrunched up his face.

 

He clutched his chest and coughed.

 

Wheezing sounds escaped from Vincent.

 

Seeing that, Jean furrowed his brow.

 

“W-what’s wrong with you?”

 

“I have a heart condition.”

 

“Heart… condition?”

 

At those words, Jean’s face changed slightly.

 

Jean bit his lip and stepped back.

 

“Do you… have any medicine?”

 

“Here…”

 

When Vincent took out the medicine from his pocket, Jean quickly brought him water.

 

Vincent took a pill from the bottle and swallowed it with the water.

 

Then he leaned back against the chair, looked at Jean, and let out a hollow laugh.

 

“…You’re a compassionate man. Bringing water even while thinking I’m an SS spy.”

 

Why didn’t that compassion extend to him and his mother.

 

Vincent looked down at Jean, feeling his insides twisting repeatedly.

 

Jean Jourdan.

 

It was the name he couldn’t forget his entire life.

 

Jean furrowed his brow.

 

“I only helped you because I was afraid we wouldn’t be able to find out if there are more spies if you die. And…”

 

“And?”

 

With a tired face, Jean sat down on a chair behind him.

 

“My son’s heart is weak too.”

 

“…!”

 

At those words, Vincent bit his lip.

 

Jean Jourdan.

 

He didn’t know Vincent’s father would remember something like that.

 

His heart had been particularly weak since childhood. He had collapsed several times and always lived with heart medication.

 

But his father was engrossed in something else rather than his sick son.

 

Liberating Paris and regaining freedom.

 

Nothing was more important to his father than that, but—

 

“Then… wouldn’t it be better to go see your sick son. Rather than sneaking around a place like this like a rat and living off stale bread.”

 

Vincent spat out the words as if chewing them.

 

He looked at Jean’s worn-out shirt.

 

The face that looked like it hadn’t been washed in days was much more wretched than the image in the photo his mother left behind.

 

“You’ve aged in vain.”

 

“What?”

 

Looking at Vincent as if pitying him, Jean thumped his chest.

 

“The thing I love the most is right here.”

 

‘The thing I love the most is right here, Marie.’

 

He recalled the words his father used to say when he was young.

 

Whenever his father drank, he would always thump his chest and declare his love for his homeland.

 

It was fascinating.

 

To think the father from his memories was truly alive and breathing right in front of him.

 

‘This time, it really isn’t a prank, Mr. Vincent.’

 

The words Junghyo said before dashing out earlier came to mind.

 

Then does this mean it really isn’t Junghyo’s ‘illusion’…?

 

Then this is…

 

It was the moment Vincent’s mind became complicated.

 

Jean took a pendant out from the inner pocket of his jacket.

 

“…?”

 

Squatting slightly in front of the bound Vincent, Jean showed him the pendant.

 

The pendant was an oval-shaped object meant to hold pictures. Inside the pendant, on one side was a picture of a woman Vincent knew well, and on the other side—

 

“This is my wife. And this is my son.”

 

“….”

 

Vincent’s hands trembled.

 

It was true.

 

On the other side of the pendant was a picture of Vincent from his childhood.

 

‘The thing I love the most is right here, Marie.’

 

The words his father always said when drunk echoed in his ears.

 

He clenched his fists tightly.

 

“But if I give up here, my wife and my son will have to live in a Europe without songs. One day, I will let my son hear beautiful music, show him a world where he can brightly smile and greet neighbors, and giggle while watching movies at the theater.”

 

Jean, no, the man who was 30 years younger than Vincent, squatted in front of him and spoke in a resolute voice.

 

A deep longing seeped into his voice.

 

Vincent recalled the words Junghyo had said as she emptied the last glass of wine.

 

‘I still feel sad when I think about the time my dad left. But… because I know now. Because I know Dad inevitably chose to part ways for my sake, for the sake of the world I will live in. So maybe that’s why I’m running this hotel so diligently. To return the love I received from my dad to someone else.’

 

Vincent’s eyes turned bright red.

 

At the same time, something popped up before his eyes.

 

30 seconds remaining until the end of time travel.