Chapter 4: The Chain was weaker than I thought

1. Gently lift the guest by her soft-looking waist with both hands.

‘Wow, it’s like touching cold, squishy mochi ice cream.’

A fleeting, selfish thought crosses my mind.

Slap.

Snap out of it, motel manager.

Feel the responsibility of your position.

No, now’s not the time for such thoughts.

“…Excuse me, ma’am.”

“Wha—what?”

“Please wait a moment. I’ll clean it up quickly.”

2. As a lousy manager, I offer the sincerest apology possible.

“Wha—what—?”

I set the guest, flailing helplessly, down outside the door.

The final, most important step before sweeping this room clean:

‘Come to me, my cleaning tools.’

Armed with my perfectly prepared weapons, I firmly lock the room’s door.

Alright, Room 305.

Get ready.

It’s cleaning time.

Even back in reality, I was always serious about cleaning.

No grand reason for it.

I just liked a neatly organized space.

‘…Alright, let’s do this.’

Before starting, the first step is ‘respiratory protection.’

Since the motel’s toolbox didn’t include a cleaning mask, I take off my shirt and wrap it around my mouth and nose.

‘Preparation complete.’

It’s a bit makeshift, but with respiratory protection ready, it’s time to clean this room.

Rip!!

Splat!!

I toss the bodily fluid-stained blankets and deflated pillows to the entrance.

Then, I dust off the window sills with the dustpan.

I sweep the floor’s debris into a pile, stuff it into a trash bag from the drawer.

I scrub the floor with a rinsed mop and carefully wipe the window sills with a cloth.

“Phew… This is harder than I thought…!”

It’s been 25 minutes since I started cleaning.

The room, once so filthy and foul it could pass for a crime scene, is now unrecognizably clean.

“Refreshing…!!”

Of course, it was exhausting work.

My body, usually resilient from training, is drenched in sticky sweat.

But the satisfaction from seeing the cleaned room outweighs the fatigue.

‘This is why I clean. Shall I push a bit more?’

Another 25 minutes pass.

I’ve cleaned the entire room, including the bathroom, the source of the rotting stench.

The irreparably stained blankets and mattress, along with the shattered furniture, can be hauled out and disposed of later.

For now, the room’s cleaning is mostly done.

As I wipe the sweat from my face, my gaze falls on the rusty chains and reddish-brown ropes still tied to the bed frame.

‘Everything’s good, but how do I deal with those…?’

Unlike the ruined mattress, the bed frame seems reusable if I can remove the chains and ropes.

But I don’t have any tools to cut through those thick, rusty chains.

‘Should I try pulling them off by hand?’

With a let’s-try-it mindset, I grab the chains and give a light tug.

“Hup…!”

Snap!!

Crack!!

“Oh, it worked.”

Contrary to my worries, the rusty chains come off easily without tools.

The problem, unexpectedly, is the reddish-brown ropes.

I try to untie the knots around the bed legs, but it’s no use.

‘Sigh… What do I do with this…?’

While pondering how to untie the stubborn ropes, a thought hits me.

‘…What if I just didn’t use enough strength?’

If that’s the case, the solution is simple.

Apply more force.

Grip…

“Hyaaah!!!”

Careful not to break the bed legs, I grab the ropes and pull with all my might.

Snap…

Crack!!

The reddish-brown ropes finally start to give way.

‘Success…!!’

My first battle with the stubborn ropes ends in victory.

One by one, I add more strength to tear the ropes from the bed.

As I grab the last remaining rope—

“Ahh—aaaaah!!!!”

A chilling scream from the guest echoes from the hallway.

“Open. The. Door. Open. Open. Open. Open. Open.”

Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang

“Open. Open. Open. Open. Open. Open.”

Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang

Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang

“Open. Open. Open. Open. Open. Open. Open!!!!!!!”

Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang

The guest pounds on the locked Room 305 door, screaming in near-hysteria to open it.

Checking the wall clock, I realize an hour has passed.

‘Crap, it’s been that long…?!’

Damn it, the guest’s frustration from being unable to rest this late has finally exploded.

I should’ve guided her to another room before starting.

Another mistake.

“I’m coming out now, ma’am!!”

“Wha—what—aaah!!!”

“Hnngh!!!”

“Don’t. Do. That. Don’t. Don’t!!!!”

I need to finish what I’m doing first, so I muster all my strength and pull.

Crack!!!

“—!!!”

I tear off the last reddish-brown rope.

Carefully, I open the room’s door.

Peeking into the hallway, I see the guest crouched by the door like an upset Maltese, face buried in her knees.

“S-sorry, I kept you waiting too long…?”

“…”

“I finished cleaning… but it took longer than expected. I’m sorry… I don’t know how to make this up to you…”

‘Ugh, I’ve ruined this route’ fills my mind.

I’m on the verge of a full-blown panic, barely aware of what I’m saying.

As I stammer, trying to salvage the situation—

“You’re—not. Hurt?”

“Huh?”

“Not. Hurt. You’re. Fine.”

The guest lifts her head, muttering incomprehensible words while looking at her wrists and ankles.

“How—are. You. Not. Hurt?”

“How—are. You—not. Hurt?”

Ignoring my dumbfounded staring, she slowly enters the room.

She looks between the spotless room, the torn reddish-brown ropes, and me standing blankly outside.

“I’m sorry it took so long. The room hadn’t been cleaned in ages, and I gave you the wrong key…”

“…”

“But from now on, I’ll make sure you can rest comfortably.”

“…!!”

At my promise to help her rest, her ears turn red again.

Much redder than at the counter.

To get this red, she must be furious.

Making her stand outside for an hour while cleaning and then saying “rest comfortably”? Even I find my audacity absurd.

“I’ll head down now…”

She probably doesn’t want to see my face, so I start to shoulder the mattress, blankets, and broken furniture to take to the lobby.

Tap.

“Wait.”

“Yes?”

“—Wait. Please.”

The shy guest grabs my hand, initiating conversation for the first time.

“Uh… is there something you need?”

A golden opportunity.

Not wanting to miss it, I ask as politely as possible.

She hesitates, then slowly asks.

“…Hey. Am I. Pretty?”

“…!”

“—Am I. Pretty?”

The same question she asked in the lobby.

But the vibe is completely different.

Not hostile, but soft and tingly.

‘Yes, this is the moment to raise her affection…!! The chance is here…!!’

After only talking as a lousy manager and guest, this is my first ‘dating sim moment.’ I cheer internally.

‘Alright, follow the manual, and her affection will rise. I can’t say pretty; I need another good word—!’

“Hey. You know. Am I. Pretty?”

As I’m lost in thought, her cracking voice shakes my resolve.

I feel compelled to answer “pretty.”

Unable to resist, I blurt out—

“Yes, you’re plenty pretty.”

Following the manual isn’t what makes a dating sim.

‘I should follow my heart. Yup.’

“—Uh. Uhh. Uh.”

The shy guest stares at me.

Her expression seems puzzled, as if something that should’ve connected didn’t.

‘I’m not sure, but… that’s probably a positive reaction, right?’

“Haha, if you need anything else, just let me—”

“Scary.”

“What?”

“Scary—you’re. Not. Human—”

Scary.

Not human.

With those words, the shy guest scurries back into the room.

The dark hallway.

The foul smell is gone.

But standing alone in the dim, dreary corridor, I think to myself.

‘I should’ve just followed the damn manual.’