episode_0126

We stared at the fallen object in silence.

A towel rack covered in mucus.

This really feels like a random thing, but… … .

“Dabin. Look at that.”

Yebin carefully examines the towel rack.

“It’s the same product as the one in the hotel.”

“Really?”

“Yes. The written logo is the same.”

I shined the flashlight forward.

The towel rack gave off sharp reflections even in the mucus.

The logo is clearly visible inside.

The symbol engraved on the metal was definitely the one I had seen at the hotel.

Two arrows spinning around each other, tail biting each other.

“… … .”

While I was lost in thought, Yebin asked as if talking to herself.

“Where did that come from?”

The silence continues again.

I broke the silence for a while and opened my mouth.

“It probably came from the hotel room.”

“Isn’t that obvious? It’s the exact same product as the one in the room.”

It may sound like that, but it’s not.

He took out the card he was holding in his arms and showed it to Yebin, who was tilting her head.

It’s a card key that can open the hotel door.

“The rules of this hotel. Do you remember?”

This is the first rule I discovered when I set foot in the hotel.

The law of extinction.

“When you insert the card key, the room lights up. When you take the card key out, everything that was newly in the room disappears. And it returns to its original state. As if no one had ever visited.”

I go over the facts one by one and get lost in thought.

The hotel card key. The room that disappears. This space on the lower floor of the hotel, the wall of the living building. And the towel rack that fell before my eyes.

They may seem completely unrelated, but in fact they are connected.

“Why did you think it was natural?”

“Huh?”

Yebin raises a question mark at the somewhat unexpected question.

I continued speaking, flicking my card key.

“When entering a room, insert the card key into the holder.”

Inside a narrow and dark emergency exit.

At the end of the voice, there is an echo. Faint pulses and breathing can be heard from the living building.

But in an instant, all sound stops.

“Why did we take that for granted?”

“That’s because if you don’t insert the card key, the electricity won’t come on and you won’t be able to turn on the light.”

“And?”

“Also, when I entered the hotel, I said that it was normal. On the internet.”

“Yeah. That’s common sense.”

If it were reality, then yes.

But this apartment is completely different.

“But we didn’t do that when we explored.”

“Dabin. What are you talking about?”

“When you pull out the card key, if there’s someone in the room, they’ll disappear. After knowing this, was there really a need to put the card key in the room? Even though you could die if you make a mistake?”

“Ah… … ?”

“There was no need to take risks. But why did you put the card key in like it was a given?”

“It’s definitely weird.”

“If it was fire, we could have replaced it with something like a flashlight. The problem is why we all took this for granted.”

A librarian’s ability to dig into the truth is maximized when he or she has a clue.

It’s like searching the Internet.

No matter how much you search, you can’t find anything about something you don’t know anything about.

When you search for something you vaguely know, too much information appears and you can’t find the knowledge you want.

So, a process of thinking for yourself is necessary.

The ability of a librarian is not a magic that automatically teaches you anything.

You need to know the exact search terms and concepts to fill in the rest.

If we can find even small clues like these, we can greatly reduce the amount of meaningless information.

A little more. If we just gather a few more clues, we can fully figure out what’s going on here.

“One more thing.”

I put the card key in my pocket and this time turned my gaze towards the towel rack.

The long piece of metal is still encased in mucus.

“I told you earlier, right? That came from the hotel room.”

Yebin nods.

“And when you pull out the card key, anything new that came into the room disappears.”

“Yes.”

“What if everything in the room actually disappeared?”

He stands up and asks a question.

I take short steps toward the towel rack that has fallen on the floor.

“What if the moment you insert and pull out your card key, everything disappears and only some furniture comes back into the room?”

I bend down and look closely.

There is an arrow engraved on the metal bar.

Two arrows spinning around each other, tail biting each other.

Or, the head of a snake.

“This is a cycle.”

“Circulation.”

“Yeah.”

A hotel feature related to card keys. A towel rack that fell in front of you.

Now there is only one left.

As I pause for a moment, Yebin hesitates and speaks her mind.

“At the emergency exit earlier. Is the blood flowing in the building also a circulation?”

“That’s right.”

I picked up the towel rack and swiped the mucus away with my hand.

“That’s why we can connect them as one.”

The transparent mucus returns to its original color when it clumps together.

Silver with a metallic sheen.

The blood that flows within the walls of a living building, and the medium of circulation that makes up this place.

It was like melted mercury,

“Just a minute. Dabin!”

“It’s okay. Just don’t look.”

And, because you already know.

The liquid on my hands disappeared in an instant.

“Okay! It’s gone now?”

He spread his fingers and showed off his soft hands.

“… … Yes.”

Only then does Yebin let out a deep sigh, feeling relieved.

Looking at Yebin’s pale face, I repeated the sentence in my head.

A sentence that just came to mind.

[Where do we go when we die?]

The answer will remain here.

“Let’s go back down.”

Swish.

The elevator door opened as soon as my eyes landed.

As if it had been there from the beginning.

“Dabin. I don’t understand. Is it right to go down this?”

“Well.”

Yebin hesitates, remaining on the stairs.

“And actually, we haven’t figured out anything. Like how to get out of here. Like what this place is. Oh. Well, of course we’ve figured out a lot of new things… … . But we don’t really know what to do.”

“You’ll find out soon enough when you get down there.”

No detailed explanation was given.

Saying it now will only increase distrust.

“Are you in your right mind now?”

“Yeah. If you don’t believe me, check it out. There’s a library system, right? ”

It was just a joke. Yebin really closes her eyes and logs into the library system.

And then he even completed a mental status examination.

“… … That’s normal.”

“Then let’s go down.”

Yebin reluctantly follows me into the elevator.

It’s cute how he flinches in surprise the moment he steps in.

There are no buttons in this elevator.

Because the destination was decided from the beginning.

“Dabin.”

Yebin hitting my side.

His face looks a bit twisted.

“Do you know that Se-rim and Da-bin’s personalities have been changing recently?”

“… … Huh?”

“You know everything by yourself, but you don’t say anything.”

If I think back, that’s true.

That’s what happened to Sister Se-rim. She was more of a mystery person than a sharer of information.

I know it couldn’t be helped, but I still felt frustrated.

And Yebin is telling me that I am doing the same thing.

Is this what they mean when they say that a place makes a person?

Maybe I’m suffering from a burden like Sister Se-rim did.

Now that I know the ‘end’, I might be going crazy without even realizing it.

So, you might end up not sharing anything, making the excuse that it’s too dangerous for others to know.

Even just a single line of common information about yourself.

“Is that so?”

After thinking about it for a while, I just let it go as if it was nothing.

It’s too heavy a problem to think about now.

The elevator is still moving and will soon reach the bottom of the hotel.

Inside a closed elevator.

You can’t see outside, but you can still hear the building breathing.

The sound of a pulse. The sound of something flowing.

Living things constantly move their muscles up and down to circulate blood and oxygen.

“Then Yebin.”

I bring up an unexpected topic again.

“Do you know about reincarnation?”

Yebin nods.

“What about the afterlife?”

“I looked that up on the internet too. I think it was mostly about religion. It said that when you die, you go to heaven or hell, or you are reborn into the world. You could be put on trial, or you could live in eternal darkness.”

“Yeah. Right.”

Ask again as soon as you answer.

“Then what do you think?”

“Yes… … ?”

“Where do people go when they die?”

“That’s something I don’t know. It’s something that people can’t figure out. In the first place, death itself might be the end. Everyone has different stories… … . It’s the realm of religion or novels.”

Yebin only tells the facts she knows.

Although she has now acquired a human body, Yebin spent more time as an AI within the server network.

Rather than thinking, judging, and forming beliefs for themselves, they simply rely on the knowledge they have acquired.

“No. I’ll say it again.”

The elevator will soon arrive at its destination.

“Now we.”

You will be able to see it soon.

“If we die here now, where will we go?”

Rattling.

Death is not the end.

The concept of faith is a kindness that we bestow upon people.

thud.

In complete darkness, the slit glows.

The pungent air seeping in through the open door.

There were people there too.

“It’s an escape route. An escape route! There really is a place to get out!”

“I just need to get out of here.”

“Please. Please. Please. Please. Please.”

People rushing towards this place like moths to a flame as soon as the light hits them.

Yebin gasps for breath, covering her mouth with her hand.

I think I know.

There was a big difference between having a vague idea and actually seeing it with my own eyes.

I still have the letter I received in my pocket.

A note covered in blood and grease.

[down the hallway]

[Send it out]

Down the hallway.

A scream from someone on the lower floor of the hotel.

I looked ahead, holding tightly to the paper that had returned like my hair that had disappeared.

Swish.

The elevator doors close behind you.

The people downstairs pushed and pushed us as we ran toward the door, but we couldn’t get into the elevator.

It just passes by as if passing through an illusion.

“No… … . I can’t go in… … .”

“Can’t you get out of here?”

“How can I get out of this? How on earth? What should I do… … .”

Me too, Yebin too.

We just stood frozen in front of the frustrated people.

It wasn’t just because their appearance was repulsive.

It is not because there is madness in the light that shines upon their eyes.

Something alien stands out above the figures of the people living here.

A festering scab forms on the shoulder of a weeping woman, and over it a tattered bathrobe soaked in pus.

A wooden desk leg is halfway protruding from the back of an old man who is screaming and throwing tantrums.

A stand that sticks out from the child’s head.

A fluorescent light sprouting like a coral reef in the stomach of a middle-aged man.

The one thing they all had in common was mucus.

A liquid that has a silvery sheen when mixed together.

Circulating continuously through the blood vessels in the walls of a building.

Something we all have, but can’t quite figure out.

The oldest memetic kill agent.

Something that destroys the spirit of those who look into it closely and makes them forget everything.

Also, death is not the end.

Faith is the kindness that we receive.

And we can never fully understand someone else’s kindness.

“This is faith.”

circulation.

The soul flows within the hotel walls.

“How did you get here?”

“Let me know.”

“We have to get out of here too.”

“I have to get out of here.”

“Please let me out of here.”

I felt the gaze again as I looked into the liquid.

Where do people go when they die?

To the place we trusted the most.

If there are people somewhere, there must be heaven.