The moment I stepped inside the building, I knew I had made a terrible mistake.
Not the kind of mistake where you forgot to bring enough food for a journey or took the wrong road and had to walk an extra hour. Those were manageable mistakes. Annoying, but manageable.
This felt more like the kind of mistake that would eventually become a story someone told at my funeral.
I stopped just inside the entrance and slowly looked around.
The outside of the building had already been questionable enough. It was squeezed between two much larger structures, its faded walls almost disappearing into the surrounding shops and houses. From the street, I had convinced myself that it only looked old because of poor maintenance.
That confidence lasted approximately three seconds.
Inside, the place looked abandoned.
The wooden floor had clearly survived several generations without receiving even the slightest amount of care. Some boards were darker than others, and one near the entrance bent slightly when I put my weight on it. The walls were covered in old stains that I decided were probably from water.
Probably.
There were spider webs hanging in the corners, dust gathered along the edges of the floor, and a strange stale smell that seemed to have soaked into the entire building. Somewhere deeper inside, I could hear water dripping at a steady pace.
Drop.
Drop.
Drop.
It was not loud, but in a building this quiet, it somehow sounded threatening.
I tightened my grip on my single shoulder bag.
This was supposed to be a cheap place to stay for two days.
Two days.
I suddenly felt that I had made a serious error in judgment.
Beside me, Asura stood perfectly still, staring into the darkness of the hallway. His ears slowly lowered.
For once, he did not immediately complain.
That worried me more than his usual complaints.
He finally sniffed the air, then took one cautious step backward.
"This place is disgusting."
I glanced down at him. "You only just noticed?"
"I was hoping I was wrong."
"That makes two of us."
Asura sniffed again and immediately turned his head away. "Something died here."
"Don’t say things like that."
"I can smell it."
"Then keep your nose closed."
"That is not how noses work."
I sighed and stepped farther inside.
There was supposed to be a reception area somewhere ahead. I had been told this was an inn, after all. An extremely cheap inn, yes, but still an inn. There should have been an owner, a manager, an employee, someone sitting behind a desk collecting money from unfortunate travelers.
Instead, there was a long wooden counter covered in dust.
No person.
No candle.
No bell.
No sign telling us where to go.
Nothing.
I walked toward the counter and waited.
Five seconds passed.
Then ten.
Then twenty.
I looked toward the stairs.
"Maybe the owner went out."
Asura sat down beside me. "Maybe the owner abandoned the building."
"That’s not helpful."
"It is the most logical explanation."
I leaned against the counter and looked around again.
There was not even a key hanging on the wall.
I was beginning to understand why the price had been so low.
A building like this should have been paying people to sleep here.
Asura lifted his head and sniffed the dusty air again. "Perhaps we should leave."
"We already paid for the information that this place exists."
"We haven’t paid yet."
"Exactly. Which means we can still leave."
I took one small step toward the entrance.
Then I remembered how little money I actually had.
That step stopped halfway.
No.
We were staying.
I could not waste more money searching for another place when we had only just entered the town. Besides, this was supposed to be temporary. One night, maybe two. Then I could find somewhere better once I understood the town properly.
That was the sensible way to look at it.
At least, that was what I told myself.
Before I could move again, a man’s voice suddenly came from somewhere behind the counter.
"Whose dog is this barking so much? This place will not tolerate any disturbance!"
I froze.
Asura froze too.
Then we both turned toward the same direction.
A narrow doorway behind the counter opened with a loud creak, and a man walked out while rubbing one eye.
He looked to be in his mid-thirties. He had a light beard that seemed to have been trimmed several days ago and long, messy hair that had apparently lost an argument with a comb. His brown stitched shirt had seen better days, while the red shirt underneath it was only half-buttoned, revealing part of his chest.
He looked tired.
More importantly, he looked like a man who had been sleeping.
His eyes wandered lazily through the reception area before finally stopping on me.
Then they moved down toward Asura.
His expression changed.
Not to fear.
Not to anger.
Confusion.
He looked at the dog, then at me, then back at the dog.
"Who are you?"
I straightened slightly. "A guest."
The man’s eyebrows rose.
He scratched the side of his beard and glanced toward the calendar hanging behind the counter.
"See, it is still five days before the next payment is due. So come back later."
I stared at him.
He stared at me.
I glanced around the empty reception area.
"I think there is some misunderstanding."
The man said nothing.
I adjusted the front of my shirt and tried to sound more respectable than I actually felt. "We are guests. We are here for a two-day stay."
For a moment, he simply looked at me.
Then he laughed.
Not a polite laugh.
Not even a small laugh.
He bent forward and slapped the reception counter.
"Really?"
His shoulders shook as he laughed harder. "Don’t lie to me. Even beggars don’t stay here!"
I felt something inside me die.
I turned toward Asura.
He was already looking at me.
He did not say anything.
He didn’t need to.
His face practically screamed, I told you so.
I pointed a finger at him. "Just shut up."
"I didn’t say anything."
"Your face did."
Asura immediately sat straighter, trying to look as innocent as possible.
The man behind the counter wiped his eyes and finally caught his breath. He seemed genuinely amused by the situation rather than offended by it.
I took a slow breath.
"We don’t have much money," I admitted. "We’re really looking for a room to stay in, and this place is cheap. That’s why we came here."
The man’s laughter faded.
He looked at me for a few seconds.
Then he looked at my clothes.
Then the shoulder bag.
Then Asura.
Whatever he had been thinking seemed to change.
He rubbed his beard again.
"You really want to stay?"
"Yes."
"Here?"
"Yes."
"For two days?"
"Yes."
He slowly looked around his own reception area.
Perhaps he was seeing the place the same way I was seeing it for the first time in my life.
The cracked counter.
The dusty floor.
The dead-looking walls.
The complete absence of customers.
His expression became strange.
Not embarrassed exactly.
More like a man who had suddenly realized he had been given unexpected luck.
He leaned both hands against the counter.
Then he smiled.
"Oh my god."
I blinked.
He straightened immediately.
"I have guests."
His voice changed completely.
"Welcome! Welcome, sir!"
I stared at him.
A moment ago, he had been laughing at us.
Now he was smiling so brightly that I almost wondered whether another person had taken his place.
He slapped his palm against the counter again, this time with excitement rather than frustration.
"Forgive me. I thought you were joking. We don’t get many guests these days."
That explained it.
Barely.
But at least it explained the sudden transformation.
He had gone from please leave to my beloved customer the moment he realized we were actually willing to pay.
Apparently, desperation came with a surprisingly flexible attitude.
The man gave a little bow.
"My name is Austin. I run this place."
I nodded. "Hans."
Asura’s ears shot straight upward.
"But you told me your name is Kain."
I closed my eyes.
Of all the things that could have happened.
I slowly turned my head toward him.
Asura stared back at me with complete innocence.
I leaned closer and whispered through my teeth, "Stop barking or I will throw you in the dustbin."
Asura immediately lowered his head.
"Yes, sir."
Austin watched the exchange with an amused expression.
I decided that explaining why my dog had opinions about my name would probably make the situation worse.
I cleared my throat. "How much for two days?"
Austin’s business smile returned.
"For two people?"
I nodded.
He thought about it for a moment.
"Thirty-four rums."
I nearly coughed.
"Thirty-four?"
Austin nodded proudly.
"Yes. Thirty-four."
I looked around the reception room.
Then at the floor.
Then at the walls.
Then back at Austin.
Thirty-four rums.
I knew what the currency was from my memories of the original novel. It wasn’t a fortune by the standards of the wealthy, but it was still money. In the original novel, one rum had been roughly comparable to fifteen won in value.
Thirty-four meant around five hundred won.
For this place.
I stared at the ceiling.
Even without knowing the conversion perfectly, one fact was obvious.
Nobody should be paying thirty-four rums for a room here.
I looked back at Austin.
"Twenty."
His smile disappeared.
"What?"
"Twenty rums."
Austin slowly straightened.
"I said thirty-four."
"I heard you."
"Then why did you say twenty?"
"Because I don’t want to pay thirty-four."
"That is not how prices work."
"Then lower the price."
Austin put both hands on the counter. His expression became genuinely offended.
"So you’re calling me a beggar?"
"I didn’t say that."
"You looked at my inn, looked at me, and offered twenty."
"I offered twenty because this place looks like it might collapse while we’re sleeping."
Austin opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
He glanced toward the ceiling.
A faint creak came from somewhere above us.
Austin’s eyes moved toward the sound.
He looked back at me.
I raised an eyebrow.
He cleared his throat.
"Well... collapse is a strong word."
"Twenty."
"Thirty."
"Twenty."
"Twenty-eight."
I shook my head.
Austin stared at me.
I stared back.
Asura sat between us, apparently fascinated by the negotiations.
Austin’s face slowly began to twist into frustration.
"You people are difficult."
"We’re tired."
"You’re cheap."
"We’re poor."
Austin rubbed his forehead.
Then, after several seconds, he suddenly raised one hand.
"Fine. Twenty."
I blinked.
That was it?
He had just spent all that effort arguing and then surrendered anyway.
I reached into my bag and counted out the coins.
Twenty rums.
I placed them on the counter.
Austin looked at the money.
Something changed in his eyes.
He quickly pulled the coins toward himself and gathered them into his hands as though I might change my mind.
"Oh, my cute money."
I stared.
Asura stared.
Austin hugged the coins for exactly one second before straightening his back and restoring his professional expression.
"Yes, sir."
I almost laughed.
Almost.
I decided I liked him a little more after that.
Not much.
But a little.
Austin tucked the money away and picked up a ring of old keys hanging underneath the counter.
"Come with me. I’ll show you the room."
He walked toward the hallway with a cheerful step.
I followed.
Asura followed me.
Then, after three steps, Asura stopped.
"Kain."
"What?"
"This smells worse from here."
"I know."
"This is where you want us to sleep?"
"I know."
"Why are we doing this?"
"Because we’re poor."
Asura sighed.
For several seconds, neither of us said anything.
Then he muttered, "Oh great Shadow, please have mercy."
I pretended not to hear him.
The hallway was somehow worse than the reception room.
The air felt colder and heavier, and the smell of old wood mixed with something damp that I couldn’t identify. Spider webs hung from the ceiling corners, occasionally brushing against the wall whenever a draft passed through.
Austin walked ahead as if none of this mattered.
He seemed completely comfortable.
That disturbed me.
He stopped near a narrow staircase.
I looked at the stairs.
One of the steps was cracked.
Another leaned slightly to one side.
A third had a nail sticking out.
I quietly decided that nobody should ever run down these stairs.
Austin continued past them.
"Your room is on the second floor."
I followed carefully.
Asura stayed extremely close to my leg.
"Don’t step there," he whispered.
"I can see it."
"Then don’t step there."
"I wasn’t going to."
The staircase groaned under our combined weight.
I held my breath.
It groaned again.
I looked downward.
Nothing happened.
Good.
Maybe.
At the top, Austin walked along another narrow corridor. There were several doors, but almost all of them were closed. Some had scratches around the locks. One had a piece of wood nailed across it.
I decided not to ask.
Finally, Austin stopped in front of one of the doors.
He pulled out a rusted key.
I looked at it.
Then at the door.
Then at him.
"That’s our room?"
Austin nodded proudly.
"The best room in the inn."
I didn’t answer.
Asura did.
"That is concerning."
Austin ignored him.
The key took several attempts to turn.
First it refused.
Then it moved halfway.
Then it stopped again.
Austin muttered something under his breath, twisted it harder, and finally the lock gave a loud metallic click.
He pushed the door open.
It creaked so slowly that I had enough time to reconsider my entire journey before the opening was complete.
I looked inside.
There was a bed.
A small wooden table.
A chair.
A narrow window.
And enough dust in the corners to suggest that nobody had bothered disturbing it for quite some time.
The bed looked old, but at least it looked usable.
I took one careful step inside.
The floor didn’t collapse.
Another step.
Still fine.
Maybe this was survivable.
I looked toward the bed.
Then the wall.
Then the ceiling.
No immediate sign of disaster.
I slowly released the breath I had been holding.
"Asura."
He entered behind me.
"I should have listened to you."
Asura stopped.
For once, he seemed genuinely emotional.
"I knew it."
"You didn’t say anything useful."
"I said we should leave."
"You said the owner abandoned the building."
"That was useful."
I ignored him.
Austin stood in the doorway with the proud smile of a man who had just successfully sold a luxury room.
"This is one of our finest rooms."
I looked at him.
Then at the room.
Austin looked at me.
Neither of us needed to say anything.
He coughed.
"Well... enjoy your stay."
He turned toward the hallway.
I watched him walk away.
For a brief moment, I thought the room might actually be quiet.
Then I heard scratching.
I stopped.
Asura stopped too.
The sound came from somewhere inside the wall.
Scratch.
Scratch.
Scratch.
I looked toward it.
"Asura."
"I heard it."
The scratching stopped.
We waited.
Nothing.
I swallowed.
Maybe it was a mouse.
That would be fine.
A mouse was normal.
A mouse was not a monster.
A mouse was something people dealt with all the time.
Scratch.
Scratch.
The sound came again.
This time from beneath the bed.
Asura moved backward.
I moved backward with him.
We both stared at the darkness underneath the frame.
Nothing crawled out.
After several seconds, Asura whispered, "Maybe it wants the room."
"Then give it the room."
"I was here first."
"You’re the one asking for mercy from the shadows."
"That is different."
I decided not to waste energy arguing with a dog.
I carefully placed my shoulder bag beside the bed.
Then I sat down.
The mattress gave a long, painful creak.
I immediately stood again.
"No."
Asura stared at me.
"You didn’t even test it."
"I tested it."
"You sat for one second."
"That was enough."
I approached the bed once more and pressed my hand against the mattress.
It sank slightly.
At least there were no visible insects.
That was progress.
I was beginning to understand the strange logic of this town.
The dungeon had nearly killed us.
The Guardian Wolf had chased us for half the night.
We had escaped a collapsing mountain dungeon.
And somehow, the place I was most concerned about now was a cheap inn.
Life was strange.
I looked toward the window.
Sunlight filtered through the dusty glass, illuminating tiny particles floating through the air.
Outside, I could hear the distant noise of the town.
People talking.
Carts moving.
Someone shouting about food.
A child laughing.
It sounded peaceful.
Normal.
I had spent so much time in forests, ruins, and places that wanted to kill me that hearing ordinary people outside almost felt unfamiliar.
Maybe that was why I wanted to stay here.
Not in this particular room.
Definitely not this particular room.
But in the town.
For a little while, I wanted to experience what normal life looked like in this world.
Eat something good.
Walk around.
Stay somewhere without ancient beings or mythical wolves chasing me.
Sleep for an entire night without expecting the ceiling to collapse.
That didn’t seem unreasonable.
I was still thinking about it when something dropped from the ceiling.
It landed directly between me and Asura.
A dead spider.
Neither of us moved.
Then Asura slowly lifted one paw.
I slowly lifted my foot.
We both stared at the spider.
"You move it," I said.
"No."
"You’re a dog."
"And?"
"You have paws."
"And you have feet."
"Feet don’t pick things up."
"Paws don’t pick things up either!"
The spider lay completely motionless between us.
We waited.
Then Asura quietly stepped backward.
I followed.
Neither of us wanted to admit that a dead spider had just won the first battle in our new room.
From the hallway, Austin’s voice echoed faintly.
"Have a good day!"
I stared toward the doorway.
Then I looked around the room one last time.
Two days.
It was only two days.
Surely nothing worse could happen here.
I had survived a dungeon.
I had survived a mythical beast.
I had survived Asura.
How bad could an inn possibly be?
The scratching beneath the bed started again.
I closed my eyes.
That question had probably been unnecessary.