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Chapter 5: The Truth is True, but the Customer is not.

The door to Room 305 closes.

In the hallway, only the foul-smelling mattress, a stuffed trash bag, and the broken drawer and wardrobe remain.

Stunned by the guest’s final words, I stand frozen in shock.

“Scary.”

“You’re. Not. Human—”

“The vibe… wasn’t it good…?”

I understand why she’d say “not human.”

The motel’s usual manager changed, and from our first meeting, I flirted and made her stand in the hallway for an hour while cleaning.

‘No room for excuses.’

But scary?

Saying “scary” to someone’s face is a bit much, isn’t it?

‘What’s so scary about me?’

Alright, let’s think this through calmly.

First, my face.

If I dare evaluate myself, I’m probably not ugly.

To be more objective, I’m definitely not the type to be called “scary.”

But the dark hallway might obscure my face.

A hidden face could seem intimidating, so let’s set looks aside and think again.

Could the rest of me have scared the shy heroine?

‘Really? Am I that bad?’

It’s 1:40 a.m.

In the dim light of a remote motel’s hallway.

A 186 cm-tall manager steps out, shirtless, after cleaning.

What’s so scary about that…?

‘Oh, right. I’m not wearing a shirt.’

“Hahaha…”

As I keep saying, being clueless is such an inconvenience.

I’m only realizing it now.

‘Idiot, of course you should’ve kept your shirt on…’

Just a minute ago, I was thrilled thinking, “Yes! I raised her affection!” Now I feel like a fool.

…Well, what can I do?

‘I can recover… Yeah…’

The door’s already locked, and I can’t keep loitering in the hallway.

The dropped affection… I can probably recover it.

For now, I should take comfort in having had a proper conversation.

‘Yeah, talking on the first day is something! Think positive, positive.’

Hypnotizing myself with optimism, I grab the smelly mattress, broken drawer, wardrobe, trash bag, and toolbox, trudging toward the elevator.

Beep!!

“What the… what’s wrong now?”

—This elevator has exceeded its weight limit. Please use the next elevator.

As I board the elevator on the third floor, a loud alarm and repeated messages blare about exceeding the weight limit.

‘Weird. It’s not even that heavy. Why the limit?’

It’s a shame I can’t ride to the first floor, but I head to the central staircase instead.

Thud.

Hearing my footsteps echo in the silent hallway, I descend the stairs.

Suddenly, a warning from the cleaning toolbox section of the manual pops into my head.

└If the toolbox contains anything that could be considered a weapon, such as an awl, return to the counter immediately and broadcast: “Due to a restroom issue outside the rooms, lobby access may be inconvenient, so please avoid coming to the lobby.”

└Then, place a “Under Repair” sign on the lobby restroom door, enter the last stall, lock the door, and wait 15 minutes.

If a weapon is found in the toolbox, broadcast a restroom issue.

Then put up a repair sign and hide in the last stall for 15 minutes, something like that.

There was more after those warnings, but I only skimmed the cleaning tool locations and rushed upstairs, so that’s all I remember.

‘…Why was that warning there?’

It’s a sudden thought, but now that I think about it, it’s a strange rule.

Why broadcast a restroom issue if I find a weapon?

And why hide in the restroom for 15 minutes?

‘No matter how I think about it, I don’t get it…’

Come to think of it, I did find a weapon in the toolbox…

‘Wait, can a flimsy kitchen knife count as a weapon? It doesn’t seem like it’d hurt much…’

The manual listed an awl as a weapon, so a kitchen knife probably counts too.

Instead of judging subjectively, I decide to think more objectively.

I found a weapon, so per the rules, I should’ve made the broadcast.

But it’s been over an hour since finding the knife with no issues, so it’s probably not a big deal.

‘Ugh, overthinking is exhausting…’

I’m already busy worrying about how to get closer to the guest upstairs and create more “dating sim” moments.

Wasting time on a useless, complicated rule? How inefficient.

Another wave of regret hits me.

Shaking off the random thoughts, I focus on raising affection and reach the lobby at the bottom of the stairs.

‘Huh? Who’s that…?’

In front of the counter, an unfamiliar old man stands in a grotesque pose.

The lobby clock shows 1:41 a.m.

It’s not time for the scheduled guest in the manual.

That means someone who’s not a “regular” has entered this members-only motel.

‘Maybe they arrived early, so I should check.’

Even if the reservation is for 2:00 a.m., they could’ve arrived 30 minutes early.

I approach the lobby to confirm.

“Uh, hello, sir? Can I help you with—?”

I set down the toolbox and trash, addressing the old man staring silently at the lobby.

His head slowly turns toward me.

Creak—

Crack—

As the eerie sound of twisting joints and bones stops, his sagging eyes, tinged with blood, stare at me.

His neck and shoulders are twisted.

His right arm and left leg are bent at unnatural angles.

His hunched back looks half-collapsed.

‘Hmm, his joints must be bad. Some stretching would help.’

Suppressing the urge to recommend stretches, the old man slowly opens his mouth.

“Who—are you?”

“I’m the new manager who took over this motel…”

“Do you—have a knife? I forgot mine—”

“…Sorry?”

“Do you—have a knife? I forgot mine—”

“…”

Before I can finish, his chilling, metallic voice cuts me off, asking for a knife.

An old man, but cutting me off mid-sentence?

Even in a courteous country, isn’t this a bit too disrespectful?

With my affection already tanked, the elevator out of service, and nothing going right since I got here, I’m exhausted.

Now I’m being ignored? I’m a bit pissed, but—

‘Phew… Don’t pick a fight and make things worse.’

Alright, stay calm.

I just need to check the counter’s list to see if he’s a reserved guest.

If he is, I’ll give him a key and send him to a room. If not, I’ll send him away.

“Could you wait here a moment? If you’re a reserved guest, I need to check the list to let you check in…”

“You—look like you have a knife—”

“…”

Despite my polite request to wait, he keeps asking for a knife, ignoring me.

Before my patience runs out, I quickly check the 2:00 a.m. guest description.

[2:00 a.m.]

└A tall female guest will visit. Keep the provided pistol loaded and on your person…

Tch.

There’s something about a pistol, but it doesn’t seem important, so I skip it.

Ignoring the details, I confirm the guest description and close the manual.

The 2:00 a.m. guest is a “tall female.”

This disrespectful old man isn’t a reserved or regular guest.

In a members-only motel, he’s not even a guest—he’s a nuisance.

I need to check the trash disposal area, think about raising affection, and prepare for the real reserved guest soon.

With so many rules to memorize, I want to throw this nuisance out right now, but…

My inner courteous youth stops me.

“Sir, I’m sorry, but this motel is members-only, so please leave—”

“You—have a knife—ke-hee-hee!!”

Ignoring my polite request, the old man finds the kitchen knife in my toolbox.

With a metallic grin, he slowly rises.

“Now—I can—get into—the last—restroom stall?”

Muttering nonsense and cackling, he lacks respect for service workers, only says what he wants, and now touches my stuff without permission.

‘Alright, that’s crossing the line.’

Even if he’s an elder to respect, this is too much.

“Even if—you hide—in the last—restroom stall—it’s useless!!”

Tch.

“Sir, you can’t do that here.”

First, I confiscate the knife he took.

“—???”

The smile fades from the old man’s face as I take the knife.

His face twists with anger, contorting grotesquely.

“Give—me—that knife—???????????????”

The old man, making eerie noises, limps toward me on his half-broken leg.

It’s not exactly threatening, but with a shy guest upstairs, I can’t let him have the knife for her safety.

‘No choice. Sorry to the knife’s original owner, but…’

Snap!

Snap!!

In this urgent situation, I resolve to apologize or compensate the owner later.

I break the knife in half with my hands.

‘Hmm, still usable? Let’s make it completely useless…!!’

Snap!!

If any large pieces remain, he might use them as a knife.

I crush the knife like a cracker, turning it into “something that used to be a knife.”

“Now, sir. There’s no knife. Please leave carefully.”

I dump the knife fragments into the trash bag in front of his angry eyes.

With final courtesy, I politely ask him to leave.

‘Please, just go quietly now…’

Begging internally, I sigh deeply and turn away to gather the trash.

Creak…!!

The sound of a room door opening echoes.

“You—?!?!?!”

“Sigh… I said go home quietly—”

The old man, who seemed to be protesting behind me, suddenly vanishes.

As if dragged somewhere.

‘Wow, he’s fast.’

Well, he left in the blink of an eye.

For my first nuisance, I handled it pretty well, didn’t I?

Stress from dealing with a nuisance must’ve activated my positivity circuit again.

The thing wearing the old man’s skin slowly opens its eyes.

It sees a freshly cleaned motel room.

On the neatly organized room’s door, the number reads:

-305-

“—!!”

The thing in the old man’s skin instinctively tries to move.

To escape.

To open that door and get out of this horrific place.

But.

What it sees upon opening the -305- door is—

“—????”

Itself, limbs tied to the mattress-less bed frame with reddish-brown ropes.

“—!?!?!”

Clank clank clank clank clank clank clank clank clank

It thrashes as if to break the bed.

Desperately struggling to tear off the ropes, even if it means shedding the old man’s skin.

But it’s meaningless.

The ropes won’t break.

“You. Came. In?”

The moment her voice reaches its ears, escaping this horrific place is impossible.

“Hey. Does. It. Hurt?”

“—!??!?”

“You. Look. Like. You’re. In. Pain.”

Snap…

The ropes binding its arms and legs slowly tighten.

Fear begins to seep into the grotesque face of the thing wearing human skin.

“Hey. You know.”

“—@##@!?!?”

“Am. I. Pretty?”

Snap—

Crack—

Crunch—

Crack—

No response comes from it.

No, it can’t* respond.