Spirit Hotel Chapter 5

Feisha was starved awake a total of seven times, and it was the pitch-black scenery outside that greeted him every single time. On the seventh time, he finally couldn't take it anymore.

"Just when the h.e.l.l is sunrise around here!?" he screamed down the empty hallway.

"You can't see the sun from this hotel," Isefel's icy voice sounded from behind him. Feisha jumped a foot into the air and quickly turned around.

"Why the heck don't you make any sounds while walking?"

"Because you have too much s.h.i.t in your ears," Isefel said, looking at Feisha's ears. Feisha ignored him.

"What time is it?"

"Three in the afternoon."

"I slept for that long?" Feisha was a little surprised.

"No," said Isefel, lightly. "Just three days."

"…" No wonder he had a headache. "Uh, is there still cooked food?"

"Go to the restaurant."

A thought occurred to Feisha. "Seeing as I haven't eaten in three days, can I get my money back?" Three days is fifty dollars, and fifty dollars is a lot.

Isefel just stared at him until he finally sighed and gave in.

"Okay, okay, I know. Everyone has the duty of contribution." G.o.dd.a.m.n daylight robbery.

After going about his morning routine, he found a row of the hotel's uniforms, neatly folded inside his closet. Feisha chose a black suit, coupled with a white dress shirt that seemed tailored to fit him perfectly. Admiring his handsome, proper figure in the mirror, Feisha was met with a sense of giddiness that came with the excitement of starting at a new job. He walked out the door with his head held high, saw the long, long hotel hallway and realised that he had no idea where the restaurant was.

"Boss Isefel!"

"Manager Gin."

"Manager Hughes."

"Chairman Asa!"

"Manager Dea."

"Manager Antonio."

"Manager Layton."

No response. Feisha started again from the top. In the empty hotel, something akin to the presence of a ghost brushed past him.

Gin stood around the corner with furrowed brows and arms crossed in front of his chest.

"Don't call me Manager Gin, Gin's just my first name, my last name is the n.o.ble Vatican. My full name is Gin Laise Dracula Drakula Vatican."

Rice? What a good name. The thing Feisha wanted the most right now was rice.

"Could you point me in the direction of the restaurant?"

Gin's expression turned sinister. "You want to know how to get to the restaurant?"

"Yeah."

"Then answer a question first."

Uh oh.

"You still remember what happened three days ago, right?" Gin asked sweetly.

Feisha tried to avoid the question. "A lot of things happened three days ago."

"It's got something to do with your pillow," Gin 'helpfully' reminded him.

Feisha put on his best poker face and pretended to think about it for a while.

"I don't remember," he said calmly, shaking his head.

"Oh? You really can't remember?"

"Mm," Feisha brought a hand to his face. "I probably slept too much, I can feel a headache coming on." He'd have to be stupid to admit to this kind of thing.

Gin's eyes shined like a pair of blue gla.s.s marbles. "So you don't remember me going to your room before?"

"Huh? When did that happen?" Feisha's eyes were comically wide. "Did you need to borrow some toothpaste?"

"Why would you think that?" Gin was still smiling.

"Because I reckon you'd use up quite a lot of toothpaste."

Gin's smile turned triumphant. "How do you know I use up a lot of toothpaste?"

"Because you're a vampire?" Confusion was written all over Feisha's face. "Don't vampires have buck teeth?"

…Buck teeth???

Gin's smile started to slip. "I remember you calling them canines three days ago."

"Same difference, they both need to be corrected."

"They are not the same," Gin said, smile twisting. "My teeth are a symbol of my n.o.bility, how dare you tell me to get them corrected?"

"I'm just looking out for you, man. What if you get ulcers?"

A blank look came over Gin's face and wiped away any trace of humour. "Weren't you going to the dining hall?"

"Oh, yes, well then-" Feisha rushed past him with tiny steps.

———————————-

The dining hall was triangular, with the sharp vertex directly opposite to the entrance. Antonio, dressed in a set of pure white uniform and donning a chef's hat, was lazily stacking a tower out of building blocks on one of the tables. Seeing Feisha walk in, he immediately stood up and asked, "What do you want to eat?"

"Cooked food," Feisha said firmly. Following Antonio into the kitchen, he finally understood where his four hundred dollars went when Antonio told him to "just eat anything you want."

The amount of food they had in there was plain, simple overkill. Just looking at the towers upon towers of food made his mouth water. Compared to what was in front of him right now, the stuff he'd been eating before might as well have been pig feed.

"This is all for me?" he asked, just to make sure.

"Yeah, you're going to have to settle for this for afternoon tea. It's your fault for coming in so late."

Feisha leaped towards the food and devoured everything that he could get his hands on.

———————————-

By the time Feisha finished stuffing his face, all the staff members had gathered out in the dining hall. Isefel was standing in the corner and gazing out the window when he heard the tapping of footsteps and turned around.

"The meeting will now commence."

At this, Feisha let rip an impressive burp. He awkwardly patted his chest under Isefel's sharp stare and remedied, "I mean, yeah!"

"Dea, you may start."

Dea's blazing, sunset-red hair was plaited and pinned to the back of his head, giving off a very competent aura. "I've received a new reservation from the t.i.tan clan. He'll be arriving at 6pm today with a red travel pa.s.s."

"There are three kinds of travel pa.s.ses," explained Isefel. "Red is work-related, green is personal travel and black is for fugitives or those seeking asylum."

"There are travel pa.s.ses for asylum seekers?" Feisha confusedly asked.

"Yes. They are issued by amba.s.sadors of different worlds under special circ.u.mstances."

So advanced.

Not only do they have pa.s.sports, but also emba.s.sies. Feisha could see the links between this new job and his previous knowledge.

"You will be responsible for the reception of guests," Isefel said.

"Wait, how do I allocate rooms?" Even if there aren't computer management systems, they should at least have a notebook or something for him to record information in, right?

"Just allocate them any room you want."

And so the meeting was brought to a close.

Hughes smiled at the frozen Feisha. "Noah's Ark has an infinite number of floors, so there's also an infinite number of rooms. Don't worry about running out."

He's not as worried about running out as he was about doubling up. "At least tell me which rooms are already taken." What if he accidentally leads a group of t.i.tans into a lady's room while she's bathing?

Well, it'd be a bit better if the lady was an invisible person.

"There's only one guest checked in right now. You don't need to worry about him though, because you'll never b.u.mp into him."

"Why?"

"Because he's living in a place that's infinitely close to G.o.d."

The unbidden image of a greying old man hobbling up an endless staircase that stemmed from Isefel's words came to mind. He couldn't have climbed up all that way, could he? Feisha didn't get it.

Seeing Feisha's confusion, Hughes added helpfully, "His name is Metatron."

Feisha decided to set him as a VIP.

It must've been an exhausting climb to his room.

———————————-

Feisha nervously stood around the front counter after arriving half an hour early; after all, it was his first batch of customers at this job. Nothing but pitch black surrounded him, Noah's Ark being the only source of light. He cast his gaze above, wondering what position they were going to fall in.

One hour later.

His neck was kind of sore. Not even a well-mentioned rock had fallen during that time. He checked his watch - 6:30pm. It'd be better if there were phones, Feisha thought as he looked down in boredom. They'd at least be able to check up on the customer's ETA. Unfortunately, all he had was a thing that looked like a ruby but was actually a walkie-talkie. A one-way walkie-talkie. He poked at it boredly.

In any case, it was worth twenty two thousand dollars.

"Help… me…"

A groan came from before him. Feisha hesitated, then whipped his head from side to side.

"Quick, help me get up."

The sound undoubtedly came from ahead. Feisha carefully shuffled his way forwards, discovering a large body hanging by a single hand at the edge of the front counter.

"Err, who might you be?"

"I come from the t.i.tan clan. I have a reservation," he panted, digging out a small notebook from his pocket and offering it to Feisha. "My travel pa.s.s."

Upon opening the book, Feisha was greeted by a vivid splash of red.

Was this the ill.u.s.trious red travel pa.s.s? It didn't even have an anti-counterfeit sticker on it. His lips twisted into an expression of disdain.

"Can you do that after you pull me up?" the t.i.tan asked, face pale and sweating profusely.

Feisha took in the t.i.tan's physique. "Um, I think it'd be better if I got our security guard to pull you up instead."

His mother had once told him that it was important to know your limits. Otherwise you'd end up worse than you started off.

"There's not enough time. You're with Noah's Ark, I can get in just with a little pull from your side."

"Eh? Is that so? You better not be lying to me," Feisha said, gripping onto the t.i.tan's arm and pulling. To his surprise, the t.i.tan was easily hoisted up and landed in the front counter. Despite being a little shaken, he composed himself as if nothing had happened and turned to face the customer.

"Welcome to Noah's Ark. I am Feisha, the new front desk manager, and am pleased to offer you my services. I will now show you to your room; please follow me."

He took one step, and stopped dead in his tracks. Reason being, he was now being held up by his collar. Feisha desperately kicked out, gasping under the pressure on his windpipe. He scrabbled at the material at his neck, finally taking in a breath of air as he threw his head up.

The t.i.tan's smug sneer filled his vision.

Of all the thoughts that flew through Feisha's mind, only one manifested in the form of a b.l.o.o.d.y scream: "SOMEBODY HELP ME-"

Translator's notes

"My full name is Gin Laise Dracula Drakula Vatican."

Hoo boy, this is gonna be a long one. Firstly, Gin's name in Chinese: 金・莱斯・德古拉・德拉库拉・梵卓 (jīn・lái sī・dé gǔ lā・dé lā kù lā・fàn zhuō). The first and second part are pretty straightforward - they're not names or anything, so that's fine. The third and fourth bit, though, is a bit less simple. By itself, part 3 would just mean Dracula, as in THE Dracula. Part 4 actually means the same thing, just a different 'Chinese-fication', so to speak, and to reflect that I just changed the spelling a little bit. (Part 3 is the official translation.) The last part is the Chinese name for Vatican, as in, where the pope lives. And this is where the pun comes in.

Rice? What a good name. The thing Feisha wanted the most right now was rice.

The Chinese p.r.o.nunciation of Vatican is fàn zhuō, and while this may not be immediately obvious to non-Chinese speakers, it actually sounds exactly the same as the word for dinner table (饭桌) which is exactly what our MC wants. Obviously, Vatican sounds nothing like dinner table, so instead of likening Gin's last name to a table I used his middle name (Laise) instead, which sounds like rice. /insert asian joke here/ If anyone has a way of making Vatican sound like dinner table, feel free to laugh at how weak my pun game is.

Seeing Feisha's confusion, Hughes added helpfully, "His name is Metatron."

Note: Not to be confused with the fabulous robot, Mettaton. Believe it or not, Metatron is the name of the archangel who's basically the boss of all other angels. Or not, depending on which religion you ask, but that's the basic gist. You can read all about him here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Metatron

Not even a well-mentioned rock had fallen during that time.

He's referring to the rocks Isefel told him about to mess with him in chapter 4.