Got Dropped into a Ghost Story, Still Gotta Work

The first day of resort operations was progressing smoothly.

"Hoo."

Inside the mascot suit, I was drenched in cold sweat.

"T-There are too many problem guests."

To be precise, when I say "problem guests," I mean something out of a horror movie—terrifying and ominous guests appearing at a rate of one in three.

• "I need Room 404. It has to be Room 404. And never come looking for me again."

• "Come burn to death with me."

• "There sure are a lot of elevators here... Hehehehehehehehehe."

And now, I'm starting to realize that it's actually more convenient when they reveal themselves outright.

...Because the room service requests are starting to get out of hand.

Calls that suddenly disconnect, guests pretending to desperately call for help only to burst into maniacal laughter when questioned, eerie and incomprehensible apocalyptic religious sermons—

"This is terrifying."

This is just a Napolitan urban legend hotel.

Someone save me. I'm going to lose my mind.

The only comfort I have is that today is finally coming to an end.

Check-in for the day is almost over.

Once operations close, I'll need to review the results of our first opening day.

"The theme park is closing too, it seems."

The resort seems to shut down together with the theme park, except for the night duty staff.

-Ahahahaha!!

Outside, in the distance, fireworks were exploding.

...Over in the Magic Bunny Zone’s red section, some kind of horrific and amusing parade must have started. I could hear guests murmuring about how disappointed they were to have missed it.

"That insane red zone is still operating as usual, huh..."

For once, I was grateful that mascots couldn’t leave their assigned areas.

Another thing I realized—a large portion of the problem guests at this resort were those who had primarily visited the Magic Bunny Zone.

For example, right now—

"Excuse me. I don't have eyes. If I don’t have eyes, I can’t close them. If I can’t close them, I can’t sleep. And if I can’t sleep, then what’s the point of renting a room? Give me eyes. Eyes."

"E-Er, please wait a moment. I’ll check our stock..."

"You have stock! You have them! You have them!!!"

"Hurk."

Get lost!

I barely managed to rescue Jang Heoun before his eyes got plucked out, slamming the horrifying figure out the front door.

"Eyes!!! Eyes!!"

The empty eye sockets covering its entire body blinked as it howled, but the basic model mascot suit’s intimidation worked, forcing it to retreat.

In the corner, a janitor wearing a rat mask was huddled up, only pretending to sweep the floor, looking like he wanted to disappear entirely.

Understandable. If I hadn’t been wearing a mascot suit, I might have fainted too...

'...Can’t we just refuse them at the entrance beforehand?'

The sooner we drive them out, the better—before they even set foot inside.

We’ve already added three new rules to the employee manual today alone...

"Hoo."

While I was contemplating how to handle this issue, taking advantage of the quiet moment with few check-ins left—

A guest suddenly burst through the glass doors.

"HELP ME!"

No, wait—they might not even be a guest.

• Visitors: 78
• Guests: 45
• Rooms Used: 27
• Satisfied Guests: (Still calculating)
• Revenue: 51 “Cheerful Coins”