Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Working in a hotel involves a few simple rules: Always be presentable. Keep your service smile at all times. And don’t turn away the demons who find themselves standing in front of you.

“You’re just in time for a lovely evening, sir.”

Your pleasant smile never falters as the maroon-skinned demon leans across the reception desk. He growls, his intense breath blowing onto your hair a little, but you simply continue.

“Thirty minutes from now, the usual time for our Happy Hour will begin. It's fortunate you got here early since we still have multiple available rooms for you to use.” You motion to the gilded elevator from across the red carpet. “If you go that way, you’ll find the swimming and the sauna area. Both of them have recently received more features that will make your stay a lot more enjoyable. But if you don’t want to soak your skin in water, you can partake in our buffet set from nighttime to daylight instead. Are there any foods you missed in your lifetime, sir?“

The demon’s brows never once stop narrowing your way. His face is filled with ingrown mold, similar to barnacles on top of a turtle shell. His mouth parts, haunting dark eyes furrowing, before releasing a growl once more.

You nod sympathetically. “We have televisions set up in every room, yes. Do you want a specific movie you want to watch?”

His moldy hands curl into a fist. He ducks his head, gritting his teeth tightly that even everyone could hear it creak. Then a small howl comes out of his lips.

“The Noteboook,” you repeat, voice rid of any judgment whatsoever. “Of course it will be viable, sir.” You turn toward the computer desk beside you, dark-nailed fingers typing away. “Our staff will show you the way to your room. If something ever bothers you; the lights are too stimulating, your neighbor is too rowdy, or the voices are too loud-“

You pluck away the receipt that had been printed immediately, offering it to the maroon demon, a soft smile staying on your lips.

“Don’t hesitate to call Red Sanctuary's neverending service.”

The demon doesn’t look angry anymore. In fact, he has never been angry from the start. The growing mold on his sinful body has obstructed his face until he could no longer speak nor glance at anyone anymore.

But you understand him. You never looked away from him.

And for a demon that’s been haunted by his shame for centuries, you are like the sanctuary a miracle could only grant.

His crooked hands snatch the receipt, fingers trembling. A growl- no, a garbled noise comes out of his throat.

You smile even brighter. “You’re always welcome to the Red Sanctuary, of course. Have a great evening!"

With a snap of your fingers, a staff appears in a puff of smoke beside the receptionist table. He’s wearing the same gilded uniform as you, black fabric, soft to the touch, but he doesn’t look as exquisite and as attention-catching as you do.

Still, he does his job well as the porter. With a bow your way, he leads the demon to his room, and you turn to the next one on the line.

“One hour in the gaming area,” the demon says faster than you could say your greetings.

Your eyes twinkle at the sight of swept-back raspberry hair, tucked underneath a traditional Korean hat. His eyes are gold, skin light purple with the familiar markings covering him from the neck up to his jaw.

“It’s lovely to see you again,” you say, genuinely so. It’s not rare to find reoccurring customers, but it’s always a delight to greet them. Although today, he seems to have someone else standing beside him. “You brought company; that’s wonderful! Two young adults in the gaming area for one hour, then?”

Raspberry-haired demon leans onto the counter, his muscly arms showing through the wide sleeves of his midnight blue hanbok. “I would add one more person to the list, but you seem a bit busy to join us.”

The demon right beside the raspberry-haired man stands a bit smaller than him. He’s wearing the same outfit as his friend. The only difference is his fabric was colored dark purple, covered with golden markings at the midsection like he's some kind of royalty. His pale blue hair, almost like dark mint, falls down just above his brows as he stares at you shamelessly with those slitted golden eyes.

Like a cat, you think amusedly, before turning back to raspberry demon. “I’m always busy. There’s only one who’s keeping this hotel afloat after all.”

He pouts, clearly disappointed. "That sucks. You know, maybe you could hire me to do most of the lifting." He leans his back on the desk, pulling up the sleeves of his arms, flexing for you as if the carved veins of his muscles could tempt you into considering the idea. Well, if you'd ignore the demon markings here and there, maybe it could entice anyone else. "These muscles aren't just for show. They can actually lift anything if you'd just ask."

“How very generous of you,” you say, smile still kind. “But you’d be too much of a distraction for my other staff. They’d never get their work done with someone who'd be standing around dazzlingly all day.”

"I suppose that's true," he sighs, not noticing your sardonic emphasis on dazzlingly. "I wouldn't want to make you lose profit by distracting everyone working for you." 

"Exactly." You pull a pristine white drawer underneath the desk, taking some plastic-covered candies and sliding it his way. “Here, as compromise. Take it from me.”

The flirty smirk on his face falters when he sees the mound of candies you gave. “Is that sugar?”

“Magic sugar,” you smile, not missing the slight hesitance in his golden eyes. “Come on, you know how the food works here. There’s no wrong in indulging when you’re in Red Sanctuary.”

His mouth opens to retort, but another voice slices through. “What the hell are you?”

Your eyes snap towards the smaller man, his gaze narrowed into a glare. For someone with a baby face, his voice sounds deep like hot chocolate. His scowl is anything but warm, though.

Raspberry straightens up, looking alarmed. “Hey, Baby, I told you this is—”

“I don’t buy it,” Mint-haired boy interrupts, his expression not loosing up. “A hotel that Gwi-Ma can’t reach, situated right near his own lair? That’s too convenient. I don’t know what kind of scam you’ve been telling every demon, and I don’t care how you’ve even made this blockhead even more stupid than he already is—”

“Hey,” Raspberry says, annoyed.

"But I’m not going to fall for it. This is way too good to be true.” With one hoist of his hips, Mint sits by the receptionist desk, leaning his face close to you with a suspicious squint of his eyes. “Just what is your goal? Demon or not, I’m sure you know how nobody can take Gwi-Ma’s prisoners away from him. We’re bound to him for eternity, for as long as the price we offered our souls for.”

“That’s what it means to be a demon, yes."

Mint look taken aback by your nonchalance for second. But he leans even more until his hat falls back to his nape, his hair brushing your forehead.

“Then what’s your goal?”

Most would already hate what he’s doing; the lack of personal space, the intense stare. It’s the only thing he knows that would irate even him. But it seems his tactic is only working for him since he notices how you've never once moved an inch even if your noses are almost touching now.

“My goal?” You hum, pupils darting down at the glowing purple patterns on his jaw before meeting his eyes again. “I just want every demon to have a place to rest. Is that a bad thing?”

“Bullshit.”

You never fail to hold eye-contact. “Is it?”

“It is. There has to be something else you want from us.”

Raspberry clears his throat. “Uh... Baby? Ease up a bit. I know this is new to you but everyone who comes here never left looking worse than when they arrived. Plus there’s a gym here too—it beats doing push-ups with trash thrown in the garbage pile out there.”

“You’re pathetic, Abby,” he tsk’s, looking in disgust at his own friend. “Falling for cheap illusions like this.”

It’s a good thing there’s not much of a line behind them. You don’t think your staff could handle another riot from a bunch of angry and hungry demons again this week.

“Convenience is not always a trick,” you interrupt when you notice the growing frustration in Abby’s face. Baby doesn’t let up in his glare though. “But you’re right. There is a price waiting at every stay you make in the Sanctuary.”

Baby blinks, alongside Abby. “The- there is?” the latter says a bit nervously now. “I didn’t hear about it the I last came here—”

“Ha! I told you,” Baby goads, looking awfully smug at himself. He leans away from your face to cross his arms, raising his chin up. "Haven't you learned your lesson? There's always a catch to pleasure."

You nod, folding your hands neatly atop the desk. “You’re correct. There is always a price to pleasure. We just never said it out loud because it's obvious. Now that you’ve probed about the topic though, I suppose you would want to hear it?”

"That's an unethical business practice," Baby deadpans. "But go on. Tell us your twisted bargain. We're not as desperate as we were back then anyway."

When his other friend stays silent, Baby nudges his stomach with his elbow.

Abby grunts, his wide sleeves shifting as he rubs his side. “Fine,” he mutters, glaring at Baby but not moving away from the desk. “Say it then. What’s the price?”

The two faces in front of you range into two different spectrum of betrayal; one expects it, while the other looks like he still wants to deny everything you're saying. It almost makes you laugh, but it's a good thing you know how to keep your emotions in check as you smile amusedly instead.

“The price,” you begin, fingers tapping lightly against the polished wood, “is that once you walk inside these walls, you have to leave your thoughts about Gwi-Ma behind.”

Baby freezes. Abby blinks.

What?

For the first time since they've stepped foot inside the hotel, the pleasant smile on your face didn't look like a service smile anymore. Instead, it almost looks... cunning. Dangerous. 

“That’s…” Baby croaks, unable to find the right words for the absurdity of the situation. He could only afford to let out a mocking snort. “That's stupid. You do know that's impossible, right? Gwi-Ma controls this place.“

He controls everyone who had sold their souls to him. They follow his whims and wishes, 24/7, and they can't break free because the voices—fuck, the voices—they're always there to remind them about how they became a demon in the first place. The shame is sickening, and nobody can ever find a cure to get away from it because this ceaseless reminder, in all honesty, is a fitting punishment for the fools who tempted themselves with temporary pleasure.

It's not even nihilistic to say there's no escape because the reality is that there isn't. There can never be one. Demons like Baby would know that by heart (if he still has some) after almost centuries of captivity.

But you only tilt your head, like you don't understand what his point is. Or maybe you don't care, because there you are, still smiling with that otherworldly smile of yours, unperturbed about the fact that you have nothing against something as powerful as Gwi-Ma. Then you say, 

“But you don’t hear him anymore, do you?”

And all of a sudden, the world stops. 

Chapter Text

Baby’s face goes slack.

Does he? Does he not hear him anymore?

Your smile is the same as it was earlier when he first stepped foot into the hotel. But it suddenly feels intense, much more than what a pleasant smile should normally be, when he realizes that the room had been quiet this whole time. Quieter than what he's known the world to be.

It’s not... gone. No, the voice whispering his shame and guilt is not gone at all, but it’s slowly dimming, becoming obsolete against the soft breathing of his lungs. 

To say he's terrified would be an understatement. 

“That’s the price we ask of you, dear sirs." You raise a finger and smile brightly, as if Baby isn't experiencing the most reality-altering moment of his entire life right after you dropped the bomb on him earlier. "All I ask is for everyone to go and have fun in the hotel. Do everything you’re not able to do when Gwi-Ma’s voice is controlling you. Of course, this is just a temporary solution; once you leave, you'll be hearing him again. But until then, I hope you treat this place as a new home to rest into."

Why, he wants to ask. Why the hell would you do something like that to demons of shame and darkness? And how the fuck is it possible to muffle out the voices that Gwi-Ma had cursed them to have?

But you continue anyway, unaware of his inner questions. "If you still don’t think that’s enough of a price for such ‘convenience,' then…”

Two pairs of golden eyes watch you reach a hand out, the dark-nails of yours turning white as the chandelier lights hit it in an angle.

“Try my temptations anyway." Taking a good amount of candies from the mound, you raise your hand and let them fall onto the desk again. One by one, the candies clack against the lacquered table. “Bite into the sweetness I offer without fear of his power. If you still find the shackles of your shame pulling you away from our sweet sanctuary, I won’t stop you from leaving. But if you don’t…”

You tilt your head, smiling with a glimmer that could almost be mistaken for pity. “Then maybe you can realize the convenience I’m offering doesn’t have to be a lie.”

Baby stares, lips parting wide, words failing him. That's not at all what he was expecting to hear.

For once, the lump in his throat is not from the growing anger at everything around him, but from something he hasn’t felt in centuries: Hesitation. Reluctance and... perhaps, if he's not yet utterly stupid, hope—

He jumps when his friend begins howling in laughter.

“I told you!” Abby goads, pulling Baby off the desk. He lets himself get handled, too stunned to do anything else. “Gwi-Ma can’t touch us here, man. A lot of the demons downtown have been coming here three times a week already and he still doesn’t know a thing or two about this place. How do you do that anyway? Is there some kind of dark magic involved here?"

You raise a finger to your lips, foxy eyes slanting in amusement. "That's a business secret, dear sir." 

Baby’s golden eyes flick between the two of you, feeling lost. When you catch him looking, instead of smirking or poking fun at the easy to exploit emotions he let himself express in that moment of surprise, you just give him a wink. He can't help but feel even more tense at such a sight.

“So two in the gaming area then,” you finish smoothly for them, sliding the receipt across the counter. “You’ll find it at the third floor, far end of the hall. The consoles shouldn’t glitch, and the cabinets should never run out of tokens. But if something ever bothers you; the lights are too stimulating, your neighbor is too rowdy, or the voices are suddenly getting too loud-“

Abby interrupts, “Don’t hesitate to call Red Sanctuary's neverending service, right?”

You pause, the corner of your lips twitching as Abby rubs his chin like he won a bet or something.

“Yes,” you say after a while. “You already know how this works, I’m impressed. But would you like someone to walk your friend through the Sanctuary’s features anyway?”

“Will that ‘someone’ be you, baby?” Abby says, his voice almost drifting into a smirking growl. But he yelps in pain when the mint-haired boy stomps on his quite hard. “Hey! What the heck was that for—”

“Don’t use that word to flirt. It’s weird.” Baby shoots his friend an annoyed glare before turning to you again. “No need to send someone with us. I’ll be fine. But…”

“But?” 

“Is there really no catch?”

Your amused smile turns a bit softer at his words. “I already said the catch.”

“And if I come here every day?” Baby blurts, his golden catlike eyes still on yours, like he’s waiting for you to crack. “And if I ruin the consoles? Tear apart the couches? Eat every food you bring out until everyone has nothing to eat? What if I destroy the windows, burn everything your hotel has to offer and come back to do it all over again? What, then?”

When your pleasant smile turns into a grin, his world breaks more than he thought it would be.

“Then come see the results for yourself.”

It suddenly strikes him odd how spacious this place is. How high the ceilings seem to reach, how clean every glittering glass nearby, how detailed the silver and gold carvings in your uniform was, and how intricate the golden pin right on the v-shape of your uniform, with your collarbones barely peeking through—

Baby picks a candy from the mound to cut his thoughts off, rotating it on his fingers skillfully.

Aside from the voices, the air is no longer scorching hot and disgustingly greasy. Maybe that realization makes the stupid part in himself believe that something could do good to him for once, after 600 years had passed.

Sliding his lidded golden eyes at you, he bites on the tail end of the candy's plastic and rips it open. You never remove that irritatingly calm and beautiful smile of yours throughout the ordeal. And when the wrapper peels away, he catches the undeniable scent of caramel and salt, just the way he likes his sweets.

Your mouth opens, and as if you’re trying to coach him, you bite down your teeth, showing him a huge grin.

His cheeks are hot. He’s popping the candy into his mouth. And he only has one thing in mind as his golden eyes hungrily watch the curve of your lips:

If this is another temptation, he might be falling for it once again.

“See? I told you everything here is fine.” He only snaps out of the spell when Abby grabs a nearby glass bowl (from where, he didn’t know) and drops all the candies in it. “You bet we’ll drink and play our minds off in the one hour I reserved for us. Maybe we can take that Jinu guy here someday. He seems like he needs this the most.”

Baby forcefully tears his gaze away from your smile, looking over at Abby with a frown. “What’s with you and bothering others you know nothing about? You did that to me today too. I don't even know you.”

“I don't know you too, so what's the problem?” Baby just looks at him like he's ridiculous. Probably because he is; he’s holding the bowl in a way that looks like he’s flexing his biceps. Why it's not tumbling down, nobody will ever know. “We’ll see each other’s faces forever anyway. Might as well remember the ones that look entertaining while we’re at it.”

When they walk away to their rooms, you keep your eyes at the back of their heads, their hanbok and beads on their hats swaying along their steps.

As you expected, the mint-haired boy looks back enough until his eyes catch yours.

You use both of your forefingers to curl a smile on your lips. He looks away, the pale blue skin of his nape blooming into something more colorful than what a demon should look.

When they turn just as you instructed, a puff of smoke appears right beside your table. "Your Majesty, may I request an audience with you?" 

An exasperated sigh escapes your lips. "I told you to call me Boss when we're working at the hotel, Daeho." 

"My apologies, Boss. Habits are difficult to remove when you are as old as time." Daeho stands with his back straight and perfect, a luxurious fleece towel hanging around his folded arm. His hair is ashen white, a messy forward quiff that you'd told him to wear when he's trying to be presentable to lost souls and demons. "I have terrible news to deliver."

"There should be nothing terrible in Red Sanctuary," you say, sitting down on your swiveling chair and leaning back. "Alright, tell me. Who do I need to punish next?" 

Daeho knows that smile of yours. It might look pleasant and kind, warm enough to trick outsiders, but underneath that is a glint of bloodthirst that even he can't help but shiver at. To think a creature could have such a cold gaze right over a saccharine smile is daunting enough, but to let it be in the possession of someone with otherworldly beauty too?  

He bows his head to avert eye-contact. It's the only way to stop sensing the deep weight pressing in on his entire body. "The second batch we have accepted this morning are devoted subjects of Gwi-Ma. One of them tried to infiltrate your room, while the others were searching for the black artifact in the maintenance area."

The thought of three bumbling demons trying to find something that they can't touch makes you snort to yourself. Gwi-Ma didn't tell them, did he? That beings who aren't up to yours and his level can't ever see an artifact like that. 

"What did you do to them?" you ask, leaning your smiling lips onto your forefinger. 

"We locked them in the basement in the meantime," Daeho answers obediently. "We're awaiting for your judgment." 

"Why? Are there still hints of humanity within them in which I should be concerned about?" Your smile drops, empty eyes sliding up at Daeho. He could feel the temperature drop. "I already trained everyone to identify the true loyalists of Gwi-Ma against those who still want to defy him. Perhaps, does the 'terrible' news refer to the fact that my staff, personally trained by me, failed to distinguish the difference between the damned and the desperate?”

Daeho bows even lower. "Of course not, Your Ma—... Boss." That makes you scoff. "We did not fail. There is just… an unprecedented problem. A far greater one that none of our staff had been taught to handle.”

You perk up a bit. "Not even you?"

He closes his eyes in solemn agreement. "Not even me."

How curious. Throughout a thousand years since you nurtured Daeho, this is the first time you've heard him sound remotely unsure of what he's delivering to you.

"What is it? Speak plainly and tell me if anyone has been hurt."

The thought of any of the guests and especially your staff being wounded makes your gut twist in dread. Daeho's expression doesn't help you feel at ease either. "Maelle is being treated in the infirmary. She didn't suffer any wounds, just some shock from what happened."

"What exactly happened?"

"The demons..." Daeho pauses, unsure of how to say it. "Gwi-Ma's soldiers has been harvesting souls inside the sanctuary." 

You blink. "What? We shouldn't have any souls here."

"You're right, we shouldn't."

"Did you bring humans into my hotel when I wasn't looking?"

“Never. I would cut my own head before allowing that breach, Boss.”

“Then what souls did they harvest from this sanctuary of mine, huh?” You rise from your chair, the swivel creaking as if it's submitting under the pure white rage growing inside you. “I don’t like riddles, Daeho. Spit it out already, or else.”

Daeho bows his head even lower. “They harvested it from their fellow demons, Boss. They were able to take more souls from the demons that are already trapped under Gwi-Ma's contract."

You freeze in your place. For the first time in centuries, the coldness in your eyes falters into something raw.

Panic.

“What? That's impossible.”

But Daeho doesn’t look up, doesn’t dare risk looking at your rare disbelief. “It shouldn’t be possible, and yet… Maelle swore she saw it. One of them grabbed one of the guests in the lounge area, and a blue light with the shape of the soul was pulled from him. We don't know why or how a demon would still have their soul after giving it to their current master, but their attempts were real. Fern could verify it for you as well, if one mouth isn't enough to make you believe it.”

Your fingertips brush the edge of the counter, nails pressing into the wood grain. If what Daeho says is true, then Gwi-Ma had found a loophole that you don't know yet.

You know he's aware of your sanctuary already. He just can't touch the area you've claimed, and you're not planning on expanding any further either. Count it as some kind of silent agreement with the demon king. 

But now, it seems as if he's going against what he promised. He's taking back the demons that you've already enticed to come to your side. No matter how hard you think, you can't even begin to fathom how he could take someone else's soul twice when a human should only have one in their limited lifetime.

“I see," you murmur.

It seems you'll have to study the nature of a demon again. Maybe you missed something important back when you were learning about them years ago.

“Boss…” Daeho tries to look at you, but he could only find a melancholic smile on your face. “What are your orders? If we keep this up, then he might...”

"Win again," you complete, chuckling bitterly. "I know. I can't let him take more of what he shouldn't deserve. The souls that he had beguiled, the happy endings that he had ensnared away from the humans who deserved a better life..."

Your fist tightens.

"I can't stand to imagine that happening twice to anyone else." 

The Honmoon should have weakened him when those three hunters sealed him away. But if he finds a way to get stronger again, to get rid of the Honmoon by feasting on his already-empty demons?

This might be the end of you.

But there's no way you'll let that disgusting bastard get the better of you. Not back then, not now, and not ever.

"I’ll go and see those demons myself." 

Gwi-Ma might think he's the strongest compared to you, just because you haven't moved for an eternity or more. But if he keeps this up, you won't have any choice but to show him that deities are able to feel fear, too.

"Of course. It's right this way, Your Ma—Boss." 

You snort, shaking your head before following Daeho to the elevator. "You need to train yourself better," you tease. "I'm older than you by a huge margin and yet I can resist my urge to call you 'kid' every time I speak, you know." 

At the sound of your familiar warm voice coming back again, Daeho relaxes. "Well... things like urges and instincts are a lot different when it comes to humans like us, Boss."

"I suppose so." You watch him click on the elevator button. "Oh, by the way. I didn't tell you since it's a surprise, but I was actually planning on giving the staff a chance to party or rest later at midnight before we close the curtains. But since Maelle got injured, let's push that to 16 o'clock instead."

"I'll gladly inform them about the change of plans."

"You should accompany them too. I bought tons of champagne when I visited the human world. They're really good with the cheese and crackers from Switzerland. I could even ask the chefs to make that dangerously delicious carbonara with the wheel of cheese I've bought there." 

"I'm thankful for the offer, Boss, but I’d rather keep watch while the others enjoy themselves." 

"How very hardworking of you," you say, stepping into the elevator once the gilded doors slide open. "Or maybe... you'd actually prefer to spend some time with me after this whole ordeal is dealt with?" Your eyes sparkle in mischief. "Oh, that's so sweet. I think I'd be having extreme fun if someone is right by my side the whole time while I play around."  

Daeho pales. "On a second thought... This old man needs some rest today too, I think." 

You finally burst out laughing. 

Chapter Text

When was the last time you’ve had your filling? Was it during the Renaissance? Oh, that one heretical family’s happiness was so tasty, you could still remember how wonderful their despair felt on your tongue after their unearned bliss disappeared from their grasp.

Perhaps you’ve eaten something else past that era, but that’s your most memorable one. The rest has been tainted by Gwi-Ma’s touch—and by the gods, you cannot stomach the idea of eating something that little foolish thing has touched.

Unfortunately, you have to make sacrifices. 

Again.

The three demons Daeho and the Red Sanctuary staff caught weren't anything but conscious beings. You couldn't make them talk, no matter how much you tried. You would have tested more of their sanity in your ‘fun’ little ways if you had so much as a free book in your schedule, but in the end, you just took their lifelong bliss and misery to conclude this chapter of yours.

Or maybe that's how it goes.

You cover your mouth with your fist, resisting the urge to gag. 

Daeho offers a barf bag, but you wave him off, leaning back on your throne’s cushion to make yourself feel a little better. “Bring me some flaming alcohol right now. Or a blowtorch—I don’t care what it is. I just need anything to scorch the taste off my throat.” 

Gosh, you suddenly remember why you despise Gwi-Ma. 

How is it fun for him to torture souls in such a dishonest way? If it were you, you’d have let them enjoy their life first, only drinking their despair when they’ve inevitably sabotaged themselves. Or perhaps you’ll watch their misery prolong first, then consume their happiness when it comes—that one is more filling, more of your style, but humans are quite fickle; they can never seem to find their moment of happiness even when it’s right in front of them.

 When Daeho keeps watching you without moving an inch, you shoot him a dark glare. “What? I told you to fetch me something, didn’t I?” 

He closes his eyes and bows his head. “I apologize, but I can’t follow those orders.” 

“Oho?” You widen your eyes, lips twitching darkly. “Why? Don’t tell me you’re following someone else other than me.” 

Just the thought of another creature stealing Daeho is already making you explode the world inside your mind.

“No, but I am following your previous orders,” Daeho clarifies. “You explicitly told me not to serve you anything that’ll change your taste buds, no matter what happens.” 

“Ah.” Your face sinks. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

Daeho nods. 

You go quiet, swallowing thickly before saying, “Why did I say that again?”

Maybe it’s just another burst of impulse from you. You’re not that immune to random urges after all—

“Because you, and I quote: ‘have to take care of your inner essence so the future souls would taste even better.’” Daeho finishes. You brighten up, about to tell him to abandon it— “You also mentioned how the lack of souls have been making your body weaker than usual, so it’s not advisable to destroy anything inside of you just for the sake of temporary comfort.” 

You slap a hand to your forehead, sinking deeper onto the cushion of your throne. “I am such a killjoy.” 

“And I am just following your orders,” Daeho says, but you can hear a bit of amusement in his olden voice. “Whether it’s the past or the present you, I’ll make sure to stay loyal to your words.” 

You wave dismissively again. “Yes, yes, whatever. Leave me alone now.” 

It’s obvious you’re not in the mood for any more socialization, so Daeho takes his leave immediately after bowing once more. 

When he closes the door to your office, you let out the biggest sigh you’ve ever let out since today. And that says a lot; you’ve been sighing for like, six times already, and it’s not even past seven in the morning just yet. Or the seven in the morning equivalent in the demon realm where time isn’t quite fluid. 

You catch a glimpse of the ledger for this week’s customers. You reach for it, flipping the paper. 

Maybe it’s best to do your job if not to ignore that repugnant taste you’ve eaten earlier.

So you counted. From one to ten, to fifty to one hundred. You expect to go past a hundred-fifty because four hundred is usually your maximum, but when you stop counting before things even reach one hundred and forty-nine customers, you feel your voice being subdued.

“Huh,” you say at last, “That’s… two hundred less than the count of last week’s customers.”

Maybe those three demons aren’t a fluke after all. You never thought they are one, of course—Maelle’s injury is as real as you saw it to be, but it’s still a bit hard to admit how that little, foolish Gwi-Ma you’ve known is actually outsmarting you about something now. The numbers of your customers supports this even more so.

You still remembered the pact you and Gwi-Ma had about your reign in the demon realm: he’d handle the demons he had ensnared, and you’d handle the lost souls that drop by your area. He failed to remember how his demons are considered lost souls by the universe, so you’ve been taking gradual control of everything, and Gwi-Ma can’t even utter a word or two about it or else he’ll be breaking the pact. He knows just what kind of danger awaits him when he breaks it.

So to see him be so obvious about his attempt on taking back control over his demons…

It’s almost adorable, if not outright annoying. 

You fling the ledger away from you, not even bothering to look at where it lands. Does he think it’s easy to throw away a pact signed under your name? He must have forgotten how just a simple breath from you can tear his lifelong reign away in an instant. If he still remembers that but he still dared to go against you, then maybe it’s time for you to show him just where exactly he should stand.

“They harvested it from their fellow demons, Boss. They were able to take more souls from the demons that are already trapped under Gwi-Ma's contract."

You stand up, taking the telephone to your hand and ringing the maintenance room. “Announce to the others that I’ll be out for a while. If anything happens in the sanctuary, confide in Daeho for the time being.”

Then you place the telephone back to its base gently, a wide smile appearing on your lips. If Daeho was here, he’d be quaking in his boots already. There had been only one reason why you’d smile that way.

“Maybe I should give him a friendly gift after all.”

It’s when you get the chance to remind someone who exactly has the upper hand in everything, do you begin smiling uncontrollably wide.

Jinu jolts a little when the strings of his bipa buzz too harshly. He quickly steadies his hands, clawed thumb hovering just above the carved wood to make sure he didn’t just snap a string or two. 

Thankfully, he didn’t.

“That’s…” He furrows his brows before exchanging glances with the cerulean tiger who plopped down by his side on the pavement. Its wide orange-red eyes never faltered as it meets his inquisitive stare. “That’s usually a bad premonition, right? Or am I just overthinking lately?” 

Of course, Derpy just stares at him. And Sussie, that clingy bird, looks to be judging him with his three eyes and that hat it stole after Jinu made it for Derpy. 

Jinu chuckles underneath his breath. “Yeah, I guess I am just overthinking it.” 

It wouldn’t be the first time that happened this week.

With a sigh, he places the bipa beside his crossed legs. He reaches for the parchment paper lying on his knee, covered in smeared ink and half-crossed phrases. He lowers his gaze to it, lips pressing together as he mouths the words he had scribbled down earlier. 

No, none of those words work. They’re too sharp. Too heavy for something that should be popular in the human realm. 

If Jinu can just finish the chorus of one song—he doesn’t even have to finish the entire song, just the chorus, the catchy part of it—he can finally start recruiting members who might be able to help him with this plan.

It's easy to find someone who still kept a little part of their humanity in them. Even if they're all equally hideous to look at, just like Jinu himself with his patterns of shame, some of them can still function without Gwi-Ma making them into mindless fools. 

Those are the types of demons he needs to find more of.

He already knows two demons he wants to recruit. One of them fits the concept he’d observed in the human realm—someone with a body that people would pay attention to, and someone who they'd fawn over. The former already looks like he wants to approach Jinu, so he'll take initiative soon…

…once he finishes this damned chorus first.

The sound of crooning makes Jinu look at Sussie with a frown. “What? I already gave you the food. You even took some from the big guy here,” he motions to Derpy, who seems pretty content just by their presence. Which doesn’t say much, really. 

Sussie just stares. Jinu stares back. 

Sussie side-eyes him. Jinu sighs and takes out a pouch full of peanuts he smuggled from the human world, throwing it at Sussie’s talons. “There. That’s all I have. Now stop staring at me like that and let me have my moment.” 

The magpie flaps its wings in satisfaction—whether it’s from the food or the idea that it made Jinu give up, he doesn’t know. But it is very smart since it flies off of Derpy’s derpy head to start eating the peanuts, essentially giving Jinu a breathing space away from its judgmental stare…s. Plural. It does have three eyes for a magpie.

Jinu is about to bury himself back to writing, but when the sound of screaming slices the air, he snaps his head to the side. 

What was that? 

He knows the demon realm is as bleak and full of chaos every day. Sometimes he can’t even distinguish the sound of fire crackling against the crumbling floor and mountains nearby. But this scream… 

It’s too different from the usual.

Jinu stands slowly. He motions for the two mythical creatures to not follow, sneaking his way to where the sounds of crying and whimpering came from. 

When he steps on something squishy and a bit hard, he looks down, only to jolt backwards in surprise. 

A demon is lying unconscious on the ground. 

“What in the world…” Jinu mutters, studying its slacked mouth expression. But when his eyes trail to the side, he realizes it wasn’t just one demon.

His head snaps everywhere, eyes widening when he catches the sight of other more bodies strung everywhere; from the rooftops, dangling over the edge of a murky river, propped up on the walls of the ancient village houses in the streets. There are more demons unconscious than he could physically count.

A cold weight presses into his stomach. 

Demons are atop the hierarchy of destruction. They’re rarely ever the victims, so the sight of this chaos sends a chill racing down Jinu’s patterned skin.

Not only that, but these demons didn't just look to be defeated. They look drained—like something ripped the fight out of them, sucked away the frenzy that usually keeps them alive. Their twisted forms twitch faintly, fingers curling into the dirt, but there’s no more energy in them. Only emptiness.

Jinu snaps his head towards the crack of another scream. This one’s close. He doesn’t even know why but he lets his feet carry him forward, stopping at the corner of a broken wall and pressing his back against it.

Slowly, he leans just enough to peek past the jagged edge.

But he only sees another demon plopping down on the ground, lifeless.

Jinu blinks. What just happened—

“Well,” a voice whispers in a playful lilt, “Look what we have here.” 

Jinu whirls around to see himself with another company.  

Shiny golden jewelry, an outfit that looks too elegant to ever be worn in a realm full of demons who either wore tattered robes or nothing. Bright eyes, a mischievous grin, and something stutters in his chest when the flaming orange sky falls upon their figure like a spotlight. 

Jinu doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone quite like this. 

Someone beautiful. 

Someone… something dangerous.

That grin turns into an amused smile, and Jinu quits his staring to teleport away. But he couldn’t seem to turn back into pink smoke, so he steps backwards instead, giving himself much distance between him and the stranger. 

“Were you trying to leave just now?” That voice again. That soft, almost disarmingly warm voice. “Don’t go just yet. We haven’t even greeted each other.” 

Jinu’s breath hitches when they reach out. He takes a very large step back, making them stop in their place. “Who are you?” 

The stranger tilts their head, golden ornaments swaying lightly with the motion. Then with their eyes widening, he tries not to narrow his eyes when they let out an enthused laugh. “Sorry. That was pretty creepy of me, was it not?”

More than creepy. Which is a surprising achievement, since Jinu himself is already a demon.

“My name’s (Y/n),” you say simply, leaning back to brush imaginary dirt from your expensive looking coat. “I’m the owner of the Red Sanctuary, the hotel by the east forest of this city. I’m actually looking for more customers, but I seem to have gotten distracted along the way.” 

Red Sanctuary? Jinu has heard of that before; at least, he heard one of the candidates for his group mention it when he passed by him once. He doesn’t know how a hotel could possibly thrive in the demon realm, but he’s not stupid enough to dismiss the information.

Especially when he’s facing the supposed-owner of that hotel.

You seem to be amused by his silence since you look around the messy street before clearing your throat. “That’s… the distraction,” you say sheepishly. “Sorry. I got too into my idea of revenge that I didn’t even realize I’ve taken more than the two hundred I was planning on doing. That’s not very polite of me, is it?” 

“You’re-” He glances around again, “You’re the cause of this…? 

“I know,” you sigh, unaware of how that affirmation felt like cold water splashing him awake. “It’s a terrible way of showing my self-control. I told myself I hate the taste of everything here, but it’s been so long since I’ve had something filling, I suppose I shouldn’t blame myself for going all out.” 

It’s not processing in Jinu’s mind just yet, but when you pivot on your heels, hands tucked on your back, you glance at him and smile. “So why don’t you bring me to your king?” 

He blinks. “What?” 

“To your king,” you repeat. “Gwi-Ma. Bring me to him.” 

“Huh?” He frowns. There’s no way he’ll bring someone like you to Gwi-Ma just because you asked him.

Jinu brings you to Gwi-Ma just because you asked him.

He’s not stupid. He knows you’ve explicitly mentioned that the chaos in that street was your doing because you were silently threatening him. He doesn’t know what you are, exactly, but he’s not going to risk it by going against you just because he wants to avenge the demons he knew nothing about. 

He wanted to keep silent the entire walk, but you suddenly say,  “You haven’t told me your name yet,” and now he’s thinking of telling you a lie or if that’ll be too obvious for someone like you.

“Jinu,” he answers honestly instead.

“Jinu,” you repeat, making his name sound like it’s familiar to you. “What were you doing downtown?” 

What does he say to that? That he’s pulling himself to the mud, trying to find the right strategy to get Gwi-Ma’s one last attention which has been his goal for almost two hundred years now? 

“Writing a song,” he says. “It’s not too interesting. I don’t want to bore you with something trivial like this.” 

You hum beside him. "So you're having writer's block, huh."

"Huh?" He's saying that a lot now that he's talking to you, but why wouldn't he? "That- that came out of nowhere." 

“Not really. Your fingers are soaked with ink." He looks down, surprised how you'd notice the little dark patches on his palms and fingers when he's covered in something more noticeable than that. "And you have that look on your face when you saw those unconscious demons earlier, the ones that says you've been disrupted from a thought process you didn’t want to lose."

Jinu stiffens at the accuracy. “…It’s not writer’s block. I just need to refine something.”

“Mm, of course.” You swing your arms a bit more laidback, eyes glinting in amusement. “Don’t worry, Jinu. I won’t judge you. Everyone hits a wall sometimes.” A pause. "Not me though. I'm always on tip top shape."

You don't seem very humble. Judging by how extravagant you dress, you're probably not the type who has ever known humility.

But Jinu doesn’t say that. He only mutters, “I guess,” under his breath and the two of you go back to silence again.

Jinu soon realizes that the strangest thing about you isn’t your voice, or the way your smile doesn’t falter even when he couldn't hide his side-eyes from you.

It’s that you look clean. Unstained. As though the filth of this world would never even dare to touch your shoes.

When you reach the target place, Jinu stops walking, with you following right after him. There weren’t much any demons nearby unlike the usual since Gwi-Ma hadn’t summoned anyone for reconnaissance just yet, but the small, rosy flickering flames at the top of the longest stairs shows that the demon king is there; just resting. 

Jinu motions. “It’s just up there.”

You look, your expression curious and interested. 

“You need to go up there if you want to talk to him,” he informs. “Normally, I wouldn't suggest that to any demon but you’re different, aren’t you?” 

That earns him an amused laugh from you. “My, that's surprising. You took down your guard quite easily.” 

“I think it would be even more foolish if I continued acting ignorant,” Jinu admits.

“It’s not,” you say, taking a step forward, glancing past your shoulders to grin wider. “I quite like those who pretend. They make the best story without even realizing it.”

 Before he could ask what that means, you place your hands on your hips and sigh disapprovingly. 

“Except for one pretender.” You look up with a frown, the flip of expression taking Jinu by surprise. “Stop eavesdropping and greet me already. You know I can sense you and your unpleasant presence, right, Gwi-Ma?”

And like a blaze that’s been hiding underneath the earth, the rosy flames burst atop of the steps, almost blowing Jinu’s hat down as he digs his soles on the ground. 

“You dare to come here in my lair?!” 

Jinu had never heard Gwi-Ma sound so furious like that before. Not even the demons who failed attacking the hunters made him quite as angry as he is now.

The other demons are now slowly trickling in. They’re hiding amongst the rocks and trees and even the river nearby, curious about the sudden commotion their demon king had erupted into.

There might have been thunder too, right behind his flickering flames as he growls,

“You insufferable traitor.”

Jinu can't bring his eyes away from the languid smile appearing on your lips.

Chapter Text

Someone just burst into tears. 

Nobody knows who that is, but what everyone does know is that Gwi-Ma’s blazing fury spreads and crackles even more darkly across the sky. 

“You dare to come here in my lair, you insufferable traitor?!” 

Jinu doesn’t want to entertain the idea of how someone like you would even betray Gwi-Ma. But now he can’t stop thinking about it, and goddamn, he's still standing right beside you when he should be taking a step backwards and obscure himself before Gwi-Ma notices where he is.

“Stop being so dramatic,” you frown, unaware of how Jinu is slowly taking a step backwards, trying not to get you to notice. “Your lair? This seems more like a dump rather than a lair, if I am being honest. Also, I was just visiting. Am I suddenly not allowed to visit a friend if I wanted to?”

“You never visit for a good reason,” Gwi-Ma growls. 

“I always have a good reason for my actions,” you retort, looking under your nails before glancing up again. “And why do you sound so sulky? Would you like me to visit you every single day from now on?” 

“I would rather burn in hell.” 

“You already are, love. Find yourself a different figure of speech.” 

‘Psst! Hey!’

Amidst the growing crowd of demons, Jinu catches the eyes of a pink-haired demon with heart-shaped hair. He motions for Jinu to come to their side hastily, and Jinu was about to book it before you figure out he’s gone— 

“Jinu,” but it’s not you who notices him.

It’s Gwi-Ma instead. 

Jinu stands up straight. He sees you turn his way with your brow raised, and like the stupid idiot he is, he waves a hasty hand up, waving.

He’s cursing himself out inside though. 

Why did he wave like that? Why in the world is he being so stiff? And why are you smiling so amusedly at him when this is literally a serious matter for, like, the entire demons around you?

The demon king doesn’t seem amused. “Why did you bring them here? You know better than to anger me, don’t you?”

Jinu can feel the eyes of a hundred demons boring into his back. “Of course I do,” he begins with a placid tone, but he’s sweating inside. “I didn’t mean- well, I’m not aware that they’re- um-”

This can’t be the end. He hasn’t even finished his plan yet- hasn’t even gotten around to starting it. If he loses Gwi-Ma’s trust right now, then that would mean his request, his memories, it would never be—

“Oh, don’t you dare scold him now.”

Jinu snaps his head your way, blinking in surprise at the annoyance plastered on your face.  

“I forced him to bring me here. It’s not his fault you're unable to look away from your anger about the past.” The flames erupt even brighter at your words, but you continue, unphased. “For someone so despicable, you still have such good boys following you. It's almost making me jealous. But I’m not here to inflate your ego about that—no. I’m here to give you a wonderful gift.” 

“If it’s from you,” Gwi-Ma growls, “I doubt it will be an appropriate gift, let alone ‘wonderful’.”  

“Oh, you and your short temper.” 

With a snap of your fingers, the unconscious demon bodies Jinu found earlier begin to fall down from the sky. It doesn’t hit anywhere near the crowd, but it plops down right in front of Gwi-Ma’s flames, some tumbling down the stairs in a quick movement, until everyone could see it. 

The horrified screaming starts.

“Thank you for giving my hotel a visit with those three demons earlier ago,” you chirp, not paying attention to the terrified shrieks nearby. “You’ve hurt one of my staff, so I decided to get some compensation by visiting you the same way too. I think I took the essence of at least… two, three hundred demons in your area? Not so sure. I was counting, but I got distracted halfway through.”

“Three hundred—?” Gwi-Ma’s baffled voice rings out in the area, “What?! Are you out of your mind!?” 

You lick your fingers, making a pop noise with your lips as you grin up at Gwi-Ma. “Your influence never did change one bit; the misery you give is so disgusting… so sour… I have no idea how you can live through being like this, really.”

The more you speak, the more Gwi-Ma’s flames loom bigger. “This is a breach of our pact!”

That seems to make your brows twitch, but you smile despite it anyway. “You betrayed the pact first, Gwi-Ma. You were hunting in my premise. Taking away the souls of the ones I’m protecting.” 

“Well…” Gwi-Ma’s flames flicker. “Yes, that’s true, but—”

“And now I’m taking back what you owe me.”

Gwi-Ma tries to make his flames bigger again. “I only owed you twenty souls! Twenty! And they were mine to begin with—they weren’t yours!” 

“You owed me profit.” You make a gesture of a coin, thumb and forefinger touching together. “My dearest customers stopped coming because you decided to be greedy. And correction: they became mine the moment they came back to my hotel. I housed them, fed them, and they were loyal more to me than they are to you.” 

“You are as intolerable as you were back then!” 

“And you deserve this with every bit of your gluttonous self just like back then too.” 

Jinu doesn’t know if he’s watching some kind of custody battle between two creatures he can’t understand, but what he is sure of is that: whatever you are, you were making Gwi-Ma falter. 

Gwi-Ma. The demon king of the demon realm. The one that nobody ever dares to talk back to because they can’t. 

You were making him look like a kid throwing a tantrum over… other demons? 

“Fine,” Gwi-Ma growls. “I’ll be giving those twenty souls back to you if it really mattered to you that much. In return, you will—” 

“No need,” you interrupt, turning around. “I’m keeping the three hundred under my care. They’ll be my cute little staff from now on.”

After you take one step forward, the bodies of the unconscious demons suddenly burst into smoke, disappearing from the sight of everyone. 

If it’s possible, Gwi-Ma’s flames mimic him dropping his jaw slack. “You can’t do this!” 

“Oh, but I can and I will. Don’t forget, Gwi-Ma; the moment you go against our pact is the moment I am allowed to retaliate.” 

You don’t even look back once. And no matter how furious Gwi-Ma might be, he doesn’t stop you from leaving. It seems like that’s the only right thing to do, based on how stubbornly thick you’re sticking to your declaration like you won’t let anyone else stop you.

Then you suddenly pause. You glance around until you meet Jinu’s eyes again. The sudden snap makes him jolt into place, his skin feeling electric when you hold onto his gaze for a moment.

Then you break eye-contact to look at the other demons nearby.

“Everyone,” you announce, “I apologize for the sudden visit. This situation must be so surprising and difficult to comprehend, right?” 

“Oh, yeah. It certainly is-” Some stupid demons begin to nod vigorously, but they get elbowed by the others who have the common sense not to add more anger into Gwi-Ma’s simmering fury. 

“What are you up to this time?” Gwi-Ma sounds suspicious, if not outright exasperated. 

“I had fun playing with you,” you admit. “But I still need to make sure my business is afloat.”

“...What does that even mean?”

With a clasp of your hand, you whirl around to face every demon nearby, giving a smile so bright and warm, it baffles everyone nearby. “My hotel’s name is Red Sanctuary, everyone! If you want to find some comfort that not even your king,” you say, voice dripping in disgust, “can give you, then come visit us. It’s the red skyscraper right by the forest on the east of the city. And since coming here uninvited is pretty impolite of me, I’ll make sure to give discounts to the first… hm… first hundred demons who will visit us later. How does that sound?” 

Humility might not be anywhere near you, but it seems like the audacity is overflowing. 

“Hey!” Gwi-Ma snaps. “Now you are taking this too far.” 

“My apologies,” you say, not sounding apologetic at all. Then you stride toward one of the demons in front of the crowd, who looks absolutely terrified but enraptured when you hand him a poster. “Here, you can see the address down there. We have tons of features and buildings that I think you’ll enjoy…”

While you were explaining the facilities and services your hotel offers, the other demons nearby start crowding over the one who’s holding the poster. “You have a buffet?” one of them asks, drooling at the thought.

“Of any cuisine,” you clarify. 

All of them let out a long “Oooooh.”

“Korean cuisine too?” 

An orange-skinned demon looks at his buddy weirdly. “Of course Korean cuisine is there. We’re all Koreans.” Then, as if he’s unsure, he looks back at you and asks sheepishly, “Do you have kimchi too—?”

“Of course,” you say, smiling widely as all of them let out a longer, louder “Ooooh!” 

“ENOUGH!” 

The demons throw the poster away in surprise. You stifle a snort when you see someone grab and stuff it discreetly onto their pants. But before Gwi-Ma could start whatever blazing rant he’s about to begin, you step backwards and raise your hand in surrender.

“Alright, I will see myself out now.”

“Good!” 

“Good,” you repeat.

“And don’t come back!”  

You keep your hands raised up, nodding placatingly. But your eyes are seem to be sliding to the other demons again, and with your fingers pointing discreetly to the east side of the city—

Gwi-Ma erupts into the biggest flames he could muster at that moment. “I SAID LEAVE ALREADY!” 

“Jeez, alright!” You sigh, shaking your head in disappointment. “You are still such a hot-headed guy even after all those centuries have passed.”

Without anymore hijinks and antics from you that’ll inevitably irritate Gwi-Ma just because it’s you who are doing it, you disappear into a puff of golden smoke, leaving the demon’s main city feeling empty.

Only for a moment.

“What are you all still doing here?” Gwi-Ma growls. “Get back to your work and be useful for once!” 

That was enough signs for everyone to sink back into the ground or teleport away too. Jinu isn’t stupid enough to stay, especially not now when Gwi-Ma could easily distinguish him from the other demons for leading someone like you here, but before he could leave, the pink-haired demon beside him tugs at his sleeves. 

He looks back, confused by the action. But pink-hair just whispers, “Meet us at the junkyard.” 

Then he suddenly disappears. His other friend, the one with that pastel pale hair covering his eyes, just gives him a zombie-like groan before turning into a puff of pink smoke too.

Jinu doesn’t give himself a chance to overthink. He teleports to the junkyard, right where the other two demons wanted him to be, but instead of being curious about their intent, he could only think about you.

Right when you met his eyes, it wasn’t just a simple gaze. No, he heard something amidst the plague in his mind:

He heard your voice. 

It wasn’t intelligible, it was far too much like an ancient language playing over his head, but for some reason he thinks he knows what you were trying to say. 

Red Sanctuary. 

Visit. 

Song. 

But none of that makes any sense. 

When he appears in the junkyard, Jinu readies himself to ask if those two others heard you too. That’s the only reason he could think of as to why they even want to interact with him.

“You’re the one who brought that person earlier, right?” 

Except when he turns around, a pair of reddish-gold eyes is already pushing himself right at Jinu’s face. He leans back, trying to keep some sense of personal space between him and the pink-haired demon. 

“Yes?” He says, unhelpfully. 

Pink-hair lets out a disbelieving laugh before turning to the lilac-haired demon. “See that, Mystery? Gwi-Ma said it earlier too, you weren’t just paying attention. That means I win this time around.” 

‘Mystery’ grumbles something incomprehensive before throwing a crumpled paper over the other demon’s head, which he catches in his palms, long pointed dark nails closing over it and hurriedly opening. 

He turns to Jinu, “Do you have a pen?”

“Uh…” Jinu pats around himself before handing over the second pen he’d grabbed from the human realm. It’s snatched away instantly, the demon writing hurriedly over the crumpled paper while hunched. “What’s that for?” 

“Game night,” Mystery sighs before plopping on the ground. “Whoever wins a bet gets to decide what to play every night for a month.” As if he notices the silent judgment in Jinu’s face, he looks up and shrugs. “Gwi-Ma doesn’t really like using Romance and I for missions outside, so we’re entertaining ourselves this way.”

“Okay?” Why is Jinu called here, then?? “Did you guys hear what that… ‘person’ said?” 

“You mean the hotel advertisement?” Jinu perks up at Romance’s reply. “Yeah, I heard about Red Sanctuary before. I didn’t really know where it was since the demons I ask about it always end up getting called on by Gwi-Ma. You know how hard it is to find anyone anywhere after that.” 

“True,” Jinu murmurs. He sits down on a nearby stone, right beside Mystery who just lets himself lie unperturbed on the ground. “So are you guys going to visit? You know, check it out, ‘cause Gwi-Ma doesn’t seem to be…” 

“Fond of them?” Romance supplies. 

“That too,” Jinu says. “I mean he doesn’t seem to have any say about whether we visit it or not.” That’s the only reason why Gwi-Ma would let himself be consumed by anger after all; when he loses control. He usually shows it to the hunters only, but seeing what happened earlier almost feels like a dream. 

“If you’re going, then I’ll…” Romance pauses, looks up from his scribbling. “What do I call you again?”

“Jinu,” he answers. He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “What do you think they meant when they said something about a song?” 

He’s trying to think of an answer to his own question, so it takes him a while to realize the two of them are looking at him in confusion.

“Song?” Romance repeats. “I didn’t hear anything about that.”

Jinu blinks. “You didn’t? There’s this voice and…” 

Mystery sits up hastily. “I win.” 

That gets the pink-haired demon’s attention real fast. “What? No, you didn’t??? We made a bet only about another demon making Gwi-Ma mad today, not about whatever this new guy’s delusions made him hear.”

“Yeah, but that bet’s done now, so I won the new bet.”

“What new bet?!” 

Jinu tunes them out from the moment he felt their confusion at his words. Was he wrong about what he heard earlier? No, he’s sure whatever language was spoken in his mind mentioned something about a song. 

But why? Just what is it that you wanted and why, if he’s right about this, was he the only one who heard your voice inside him?

Oh, you want that guy.

You want that Jinu guy very badly now. 

Out of every demon you’ve locked eyes in that area, he was the only one with his humanity still in-tact. Humanity and memory. You can even taste the desperation seeping through him, and do you know what desperation leads to? Ambition. And out from ambition comes the most delicious thing of all: choices. 

That foolish Gwi-Ma doesn’t seem to notice what’s hiding underneath his own demons’ minds. 

Jinu is planning to do something beautiful, and you can’t wait to watch it unfold. 

You hum on your way home, the taste of your abrupt breakfast/lunch/dinner/whatever forgotten already by what fun you’ve discovered. 

When you reach the entrance of your Red Sanctuary, the bricks painted bright red with cream mortar, you don’t hesitate to push open the wide doors with a grin. “Places, people! We have new staff and customers incoming!” 

You are about to take a step inside, but you pause when you notice someone lying on the ground. Someone with mint-hair, that oddly expensive looking robes, and those golden eyes that blinks rapidly as he massages his cute button nose with his hand- 

“Ah,” you glance at the door that you’d opened, then back at him. 

The door had clearly clocked him straight on the nose. And now he’s looking at you through a squinted, annoyed stare. And Daeho and your staff line up right by the doorway, greeting you in their formal routine without even glancing once at the guest on the floor.

“...my apologies, dear guest,” you say, offering a hand to—if you remember correctly—Baby. With a smile, “Let me help you up.”

He doesn’t take your hand right away. Instead, he lets his gaze drag upward from your extended fingers, to your grin, then finally to your eyes.

“This is stupid,” Baby grumbles under his breath, before finally letting his palm press against yours. His skin is unexpectedly soft, delicate even, though his grip is firmer than you expect when he pulls himself to his feet. “You weren’t here earl—”

You boop his nose. 

The sound that slips out of him is half-snarl, half-startled squeak, his hand flying up to shield the blooming red button nose of his. His golden eyes widen, flickering your way in a burning embarrassment. "Did-” he stammers, “Did you just—"

"That hurt?" You say, brows furrowing in worry. "Oh, I can't let that be." Grabbing his wrist, you pull him forward, slowing down when he's stumbling after you in confusion and embarrassment. "Let's go to my office. I have some salves that can fix that right up.”

Baby stiffens, nearly tripping over his own robes as you tug him along. His other hand is still covering his nose, and the tips of his ears flush pink, the irritation in his expression wobbling into something more flustered than furious.

“I don’t need—” 

“Daeho!” You call back, looking past your shoulder for a moment. “I’ll be adding more staff to our list. Train them about everything while I’m gone.” 

You could barely hear Daeho’s response behind you, nor could you hear the stammering that Baby was doing. You were just in bliss after finding something interesting in this demon realm and after ruining Gwi-Ma’s day. 

Chapter Text

Baby should be happy. Every demon longed to be free from Gwi-Ma’s clutches, and as far as he remembers, that's exactly what he wants too. 

But now that he’s sitting there at the expansive red couch of the gaming room, listening to the rapid clicking of a controller as Abby yells out something incomprehensible in his ears, he doesn’t know what to feel.

It’s too… uncomfortable. Too weird not hearing any whispers in his head. Too unnerving how his sins aren’t being seared into his bones like fire on wound, like a sword to a neck. How can anyone deal with a peace they’ve already forgotten anyway? It all feels too much to process and too little to focus on—

Then something hard suddenly thwacks him in the head.

“Ack!”

He falls down on the couch, the cushion softening the impact as he falls flat on his face. 

“Oops. Didn’t mean to hit you in the head,” Abby winces, watching Baby lie down like a limp body on the couch.

“Where,” Baby spits, “were you aiming, then?”

He refuses to move now. The cushion is undoubtedly hugging his entire body. How can he refuse that as a touch starved demon anyway (like the others, by the way. Similar to the others. It’s not just him who’s like this; he knows so. He’s not gonna elaborate any further how he knows that fact.)

"Your head," Abby admits, not even bothering to think of a lie.

"I'll kill you."

Abby sits on the inflatable red couch on the left, which looks uncomfortable in Baby’s eyes. But the muscle for brains seem to enjoy sinking into it as he motions with a finger.

"Do it already. Why are you just standing there and letting me hit you over and over anyway? Is something bothering you or what?”

Baby turns so he’s facing the sofa’s backrest. “I don’t know how to use this thing.”

“You can’t use that excuse now!” Abby gawks while Baby simply rolls his eyes. “You were playing like your life was on the line a few minutes ago!”

What else is he going to say? That he can't get his mind off of the logistics of whatever-this-hotel-is-supposed-to-be? That he can't stop feeling unnerved yet addicted at the lack of shameful whispering in his head? That he can't push away the thought that it isn't just the silence which he's now worried about, that he’s also thinking about you, too?

Don't get it wrong. He's not going to think about you day and night after your introductions earlier. He's just curious right now, especially about that smile of yours. Do you ever stop smiling? Even your staff seems to have moments where, if they think nobody's watching, they just hunch forward and release the torture they're doing on the muscles of their faces. 

So naturally you must stop smiling sometimes too. What is he even thinking, believing you’ll never stop smiling? No, wait, Baby needs to keep thinking; how else is he going to deal with this sudden silence in his head otherwise? 

A scream tears through the air.

Baby sits up immediately. “What?! What, what?!” 

At the corner of the room, Abby points at a black box standing on four legs. It’s sleek, shiny, and glowing red numbers tick right on the flat brown line of its front surface.

“That thing just—it lit up when I pressed something!” Abby stammers, poising himself into a fighting stance as he puts some distance between him and the machinery. “I swear- I swear it just hissed at me too. Look at it!”

Baby blinks, squinting at the object. “That’s… a chest?” 

“A chest?” Abby repeats incredulously. “This doesn't even look like a chest!”

Standing up, Baby walks toward the raspberry-haired demon, grabbing a pillow nearby—just in case. But when he gets a chance to observe whatever was making the musclehead scared, he just pauses and looks at Abby with a scrunch of his nose.

“Yes it does. It's definitely a chest. Look.” Baby motions with his head. “That’s a box. It's black and it’s too smooth to be made up of wood, but it’s big enough to hold onto something.” When he receives a slightly understanding ‘oh’ from Abby, he continues. “Then that's the shelf. It has legs to support it, and it doesn't seem to have—wait a second. Are those wheels?”

“It’s a wagon now?” Abby says. Baby just looks horrified.

What kind of contraption does this hotel have? It was already difficult getting used to this ‘TV’ that Abby explained to him earlier and now there's a wagon-shelf and a box that looks as if it can't be separated from it? (Wait, can it be separated?)

“Hey, why'd you suddenly go quiet?” Abby presses a hand on Baby’s shoulder, shaking him back and forth until the mint-haired boy could feel his brain hit his cranium in some way. “What is it, really?! Is it a wagon or a shelf?!” 

Baby swats Abby’s hand off. “Stop shaking me! I’m trying to think.”

“Oops. Sorry.” 

It takes Baby a couple more seconds of observing before his brows twitch in realization. He turns to the expectant Abby, leveling him with a deadpan, “Why are you asking me about this? Aren't you a regular in this hotel? You must have seen this thing before if you’ve been here three times already.”

“Well…” Abby pauses. Thinks to himself. Then nods vigorously, “Yeah that’s true, I can’t deny that.”

Baby sighs. Knowing this guy (Baby doesn’t know him) he probably didn’t notice the object until now. But the short detective moment was a nice distraction anyhow, even if it’s a stupid distraction in the first place.

“So?” Baby keeps his voice dry. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” Abby answers. 

“You’ve been here three times and you still don’t know what you’re using around you?” 

“I don’t know everything, man. And I’ve been here exactly two times recently. The first time I was here, I spent the whole day at the gymnasium.”

And he still didn’t notice anything on his second and third day, Baby thinks. 

“No, I’m sure this was never here before. Cause last time, there was this… uh…” Abby snaps his fingers in thought, “‘Portable stove’ right over here. It was small, something that the staff said I could use to cook some ramen while I played on the couch. But it could be used to heat up water from a kettle too. There should have been some cupboard storage near too, filled with protein powder packets somewhere around there, but now it's gone. It's replaced by this thing and it’s—”

The box interrupts Abby by letting out a loud ding. Both demons freeze.

Gurgling and whirring sound comes into the air.

“Abby,” Baby begins, his shoulders rising high to his ears..

“Yeah…?”

They lock eyes.

Then in a flash, the both of them leap far away from the machine. In fact, they're back on the couch again, hiding right behind it as they kneel on the cushion. They peek out just enough to watch the contraption shake and quiver all by itself, and as if that’s the most petrifying thing they’ve seen, Baby faces away and plops down on the couch. 

“It’s breathing,” Baby says, hugging the pillow to his chest. “The thing is breathing.”

Abby doesn't keep his eyes away from the contraption though. “We should call the front desk,” he blurts, and all Baby could say is a simple, yeah, you should, cause there's no way they'll deal with something that was clearly not explained to them earlier. Plus, isn't this exactly what you said the hotel offers? Some kind of service whenever something inconveniences them whatsoever.

You’d help out if they call you. Yeah, you’d probably smile with that pleasant gaze of yours, ask them what you could do to make their stay better, and if he’d just ask then you’d probably answer with that voice of yours that made any demons’ brains smooth—

Aaaaand now Baby is thinking of you again. Great.

Baby stands up immediately. “I’m leaving.”

That raises alarm bells in Abby’s head. “Wha-? I’m gonna leave too if you’re gonna leave!” 

He tries to follow, but Baby is already slipping on his sandals by the doorway. “Stay here, idiot. I’m just gonna get a staff or something. Someone needs to be here when they come.”

“But- wait,” Abby sputters. “We can just call a staff to come here with a click of a button. And you definitely don’t want to walk out right now, not when it’s your first time going here. You’ll actually— wait, hey!” 

The door closes behind him. Suddenly, silence welcomes his ears. Or threatens it; Baby doesn’t know. 

He breathes in, and when he exhales, the calming strings of lyres suddenly begin playing everywhere. He doesn’t understand where it comes from, but the sound of it makes him walk down the corridors with his back hunched, face dead tired.

Baby literally has to force his limbs to move. It doesn't help that the entire place is bathed in a golden glow that somehow makes his chest feel lighter at each step. 

He pats himself in the back when he reaches the lobby without falling asleep, but his silent celebration dulls when he realizes you’re… not there?

Someone else is standing by the receptionist table instead. A young looking girl who looks a bit too cheerful, too enthusiastic but too boring for him to pay attention to.

Where the hell did you go?

He pushes himself to walk forward, heading for the entrance. He doesn’t know why—maybe to convince himself he needs to get some air before he loses all consciousness from the fatigue, even if it means hearing Gwi-Ma’s torments again. Or maybe this hotel makes him dumb and he can't control what he does to himself anymore.

“Places, people!”

Then the doors swing open, and so the story of Baby’s wandering adventure ends.

In your defense, everything in the hotel has a mind of its own, especially when you're in the picture.

The door smacking a guest right on his face? Logically, it should be your fault.

But magically? 

Still your fault. But hey, it's the defense that counts. And the actions that show your accountability as well.

“Please sit down anywhere you want. Except for the throne. That one's off-limits. Not even Daeho or the cute puppies and kittens of the underworld can sit there—tragic, I know, but it's the rules of nature, unfortunately.”

From behind you, Baby looks around in wariness. His nose isn't aching as bad as you think it is, but he might be having a migraine as he observes the wide space of your… office. Or whatever this should be.

You could say this is an entire castle lobby and he'll have no choice but to agree. The room is too bright, with all kinds of gemstones sparkling at a collector's board on the walls and random flags plastered all over the place. Actually, now that he really looked around, you seem to have a lot of boards and display glasses for all different things anyone can find in the human world. Like pressed leaves of different shapes, rocks of different density caged in a display glass, and other things he definitely knows nothing about nor does he want to ask.

“Ah! Here it is!” You smile as you take out a singular, rough-looking medkit from one of your drawers. “Huh. Who knew I still had this thing in here?”

You were beginning to form plan B in your mind just in case you didn't have a medkit in your office. There's always the infirmary at your service—which, undoubtedly, should have been your first choice anyway but hey, you pride yourself into having a collection of things that you don't need in your office. 

When you turn around, you find Baby reluctantly sitting on one of your extremely fluffy looking sofa that almost looks like a balloon, much more than the inflatable couch he’d seen Abby sit on earlie. 

You shove the first-aid kit in his chest. “Here you go. Pick what color of band-aids you like while I will go get the salve from somewhere.” As you walk away, you ramble, “Gosh, I am so sorry for being unorganized. I guarantee you I wasn't like this before.”

If by ‘before’ meant at least three hundred years ago, you aren't technically lying. 

“How are you liking the hotel by the way?” You hum, walking over to grab a heart-shaped box that feels heavy at your realization. “You were looking for me earlier, so I hope nothing has been bothering you while I was gone.”

Baby’s drooping eyes soon jolts open at your words. “What? I wasn't looking for you,” he blurts. “I just—we’re just… this hotel is fucking creepy, that’s what.” 

For some reason, you seem unbothered by his vulgar words. “I would assume that’s how it feels at first, especially for newcomers like you. It would be pretty unrealistic if none of you found this sudden peace jarring you know.” The way you say that almost nonchalantly grates Baby’s ears; you sound so understanding. Like you know how his mind thinks. Which is extremely fucking annoying to even entertain. “Did you find the hot water machine somehow?”

“The- what?” 

“The hot water machine,” you say, raising your forefinger to draw its boxed shape in the air. “I recently went on a journey to the human world and found newer machineries that have everything at its disposal. That one is part of the findings I got in my journey. I’m taking a dive here and assuming that’s what you found the creepiest, since Abby should’ve answered all your questions except for the hot water machine’s existence; even he doesn’t know that it existed, you see.”

Abby was one of your most adorable clients of all time. You don’t usually keep that kind of opinion when hosting such a huge business, but you can’t help it; the guy was curious about every new thing you found in the human world, especially when he found it in the gym area of the hotel. 

He also reacts funnily to human items. You have a feeling he scared the crap out of his friend somehow, and when Baby stays quiet, you feel vindicated by your silent assumption. 

“You wouldn’t be the first one to be surprised by something new in the hotel,” you reassure him as you pull out a maroon-colored circular salve. You pry it open easily, walking over his way. “I technically should add manuals on how some technologies should work, but we were down a couple of numbers in our printing team so there’s not much we could do. Oh, but now we have more staff incoming. You came at the right week to be a new customer— may I?” 

When you suddenly crouch in front of his legs, offering the salve with your hand and looking up at him with that pleasant smile, Baby wants to push himself away until he couldn’t see the sparkles emitting off you. 

But damnit, his entire body is drooping tired. And the only thing running is his brain which he could barely keep up with, and his mouth that he has no control over at all,

“Do you ever stop talking?” 

“Do you want me to?” Is your simple answer. “I can handle some silence as well if it’s what the customer wants. But I have a feeling if I start being quiet, you’ll end up doing something you won’t like.” 

That seems to be the last straw. His face scrunches, and you couldn’t help but smile at the deep furrows it creates on his forehead. “You’ve been assuming things about me since the second I got here,” he snaps. “Like you know me. Like you can read my mind or some shit. It's- it pisses me off so much. You don’t know me. And this place? This place is hell disguised as a carnival and nobody gives a shit about it either."

He can't prove that you were as terrible, if not even more, as Gwi-Ma but he's going to lay it thick that he won't be falling right into your way of thinking without a fight.

"You want my opinion about this place? Well, your place sucks. It’s suffocating. I'd rather hear that piece of shit's voice all over again instead of hearing little to nothing all of a sudden because this silence is fucking annoying!"

When he sees you open your mouth to retaliate, he lets out a 'bah!' and plops down even more onto the inflatable couch, his entire body sinking into it as his head falls back. "What next, you'll say crap like, ‘Oh, it’s natural to feel this way,’ or ‘Oh, other demons said that too’? Well I don’t give a damn about the other demons. I don’t want your stupid reassurance so just save it and don't even say it right in front of my face!”

Baby throws the medkit far away from where he is. At least, he thinks he threw it far; it lands just near his feet, his limbs far too heavy to even aim farther.

“I don’t… need you pretending to care. You’re not fooling me. You talk and talk and talk, but it’s all just noise. It’s all—” His words stretch thinner, vowels dragging as his chin dips once, then twice, almost bobbing like he’s nodding in agreement with his own fury. “…all just noise…”

His hands slip off his knees, arms sliding down until his palms rest on the balloon-like sofa. His head tilts to one side, eyes half-lidded but still moving like he’s trying to glare. “Noise…"

“…noise…” he repeats, weaker this time, his jaw slackening mid-sentence.

You don’t interrupt. You don’t even defend yourself. You know this routine well enough by now: let him talk, let him spit every venomous word he can until he’s drunk on his own exhaustion from finding peace for once in his years of living as a demon.

His eyelids flutter once, twice—

Then it closes completely.

When you hear the sound of snoring in your usually quiet office, you gently dab a bit of salve on your fingertip, your smile softening more for yourself.

“You’ll forgive me for saying so,” you murmur, “but I think you might just hate being tired more than you hate me.”

“I tried warning him. I really tried,” Abby whines when you find him in the gym area. 

He said he’d been looking for Baby, which might have been true at first, but now he’s curling his biceps like his life depends on it, sweat dripping down his skin as he uses the dumbbells to his enjoyment.

"I told him we could call the staff up to the room instead. That he'll fall asleep somewhere if he actually went outside, but he’s stubborn. I don’t think he heard me when I was calling out to him in the hallway either.” 

You wanted to tell him that his friend is dozing off on your couch with a pink band-aid on his nose—because pink suits him better than he’d ever admit—and with the fleece blanket you’d draped over his body. But Abby doesn’t seem too concerned. In fact, he seems to be entirely focused on displaying his athletic prowess now that you're standing right beside the weight rack.

“Well, since it has come to this,” you begin with a smile, “How about extending your stay more? I know you already extended it for another few hours earlier before I went out—”

“Oh yeah.” The dumbbells clink as he drops them to his sides, grunting. “Where did you go anyway? I heard lots of demons talking about some commotion earlier but your staff said not to worry about it. You weren’t in trouble, were you?” He raises his arms over his head in a rowdy stretch, then flexes his biceps appealingly, in hopes it might bring you to a blush or something cute.

But you just close your eyes and give him that winning smile of yours instead. “I think you will have to ask your king that question later instead of me.” 

That snaps him out of his attention hogging phase. “Gwi-Ma? What—” His eyes widen as he realizes. “Wait. Does Gwi-Ma know about this place now?!”

“I’m touched you believe I could be secretive, Abby,” you say, approaching a nearby table with water bottled at its disposal before walking back to give it to the raspberry-haired demon. “But unfortunate for you, he knew about this place from the first moment I settled here. It wasn’t even a secret, really.” 

He takes the bottled water dazedly. “What? But that’s weird… he would have done something about this already if he knew about your hotel.” His face hardens. “Or about the other demons instead.” About him, specifically, after he’s spent so many times in this place already—

“Oh, no. He wouldn’t dare do anything wrong to any of you now.” You hide a snort at the sight of Abby’s confused face. “I will not spoil the surprise, don’t worry. Just get ready for the best thing ever once you come out of the hotel, and enjoy for the time being.” 

You snap your fingers, letting a freshly laundered towel drop onto Abby’s waiting arms before turning around. “Now, about the extension… I’d normally put your friend in a luxurious room near your gaming area so you can visit him whenever you want, but since he’s fast asleep in the couch of my office—”

Abby’s jaw drops. “He’s what?!” 

“—I’d assume you would want to take him out of there yourself?” You change your words midway, smiling amusedly at the sudden annoyance in Abby’s face. 

“Of course I do!” He says it like you shouldn’t even have asked. He wipes the sweat off his neck roughly before throwing the towel over his shoulder, already walking towards the lockers to change. “That guy is actually nuts—he doesn’t even like it here, and yet he’s suddenly special enough to go inside their office!” 

You stifle a laugh at his grumbles before calling out, “I’ll get him out of the office, so just meet me right by your new room instead!” 

Abby looks back at his shoulder. “Huh? Okay, but I could just carry him out of there instead and—”

And then you were gone in a poof of smoke. 

Abby deadpans, stares right at the place where you once stood, before he kicks at the ground and falls to his knees, hissing in the scorching pain his jealous heart was having. 

Maybe he shouldn’t have asked Baby to come here. Maybe he should have gone for a tamer demon, like Mystery or someone else. Jinu, definitely—at least he knows none of them would have gone to your office right on their very first day of coming here!

The other staff were told to approach any demons who look to be troubled, but when Abby kept hitting the ground in defeat while hissing out his curses to his own friend, they decided to leave him alone.