I’m a Doorman at an Assassin’s Hotel

Léon and I quickly retraced our steps through the shadowy alleyways, heading toward the abandoned warehouse where we had left Mathilda. Our footsteps echoed in the eerie silence, each sound amplified in the stillness. Léon remained as stoic as ever, his expression cold and unreadable, as though the earlier battle had been nothing more than a routine task. I, on the other hand, was drenched in sweat, silently thanking whatever luck had kept us alive.

When we finally reached the warehouse, the creaky wooden door groaned as Léon pushed it open. Mathilda rushed toward us the moment she heard it, her face filled with worry.

"Léon!" she cried, throwing herself into his arms. Her small frame trembled as she clung to him, tears welling up in her eyes. "I thought… I thought you weren't coming back!"

Léon looked down at her, his usually cold demeanor softening slightly as he patted her back gently. "I told you, I'd come back."

Watching from the side, I felt a twinge of emotion and quickly turned my head, pretending to check our surroundings. These two, this odd pairing, had faced countless brushes with death together, yet they still maintained this profound bond. For the first time, I felt a hint of admiration for them.

"Alright, enough of the sentimental stuff," I said, clearing my throat to break the moment. "We need to get out of here before dawn and find somewhere safer."

Léon nodded, taking Mathilda's hand as they headed for the door. I followed close behind, already trying to map out our next steps.

When we reached the warehouse's entrance, a cold breeze swept in. I instinctively pulled my jacket tighter around me.

"You ready?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light as I glanced at Léon.

He gave a brief nod and pushed the door open. But the moment we stepped through, I froze in place, my body rigid as my brain struggled to process what I was seeing.

"What the hell…?" I muttered, unable to stop the words from spilling out.

Instead of the dark, empty street we had expected, we were staring at the familiar interior of Shadow Hotel. We hadn't stepped into the outside world—we had walked straight into one of the hotel's rooms.

Léon and Mathilda were just as stunned. Mathilda's eyes widened as she looked around in disbelief, while Léon's brow furrowed as his gaze swept the room, his expression tense and wary.

"What… is this?" Mathilda asked in a small voice, confusion thick in her tone.

"Don't ask me! I have no idea!" I snapped back, my mind a whirlwind of questions and disbelief.

Before we could begin to make sense of the situation, the mechanical voice chimed coldly in my mind:

[Congratulations, Host, on completing the mission and successfully returning with the targets. Reward granted: Stealth Lv1.]

[Mission complete: World task concluded. Performance grade: C. Rewards: 1 attribute point, 1 lottery spin.]

The rapid notifications bombarded my thoughts, piling on confusion and irritation. The grading hit me like a slap. C? Really? Sure, it wasn't the worst, but it wasn't exactly brag-worthy either. The fleeting pride I'd felt about surviving quickly crumbled.

Léon's sharp gaze turned to me, his suspicion evident, while Mathilda clung to his side, her voice tinged with a mix of wonder and unease. "Léon… I don't think this is our world anymore."

I forced a laugh, trying to shake off the tension. "Well… at least we're safe. Let's figure out the rest as we go."

Léon, ever the skeptic, wasn't buying it. His piercing eyes didn't leave me as he asked bluntly, "What do you mean by 'safe'? How can you be sure?"

My throat tightened, and I quickly deflected. "Uh… I mean, it doesn't seem dangerous, does it? Just… take a breather for now, okay?"

Mathilda, however, was already curiously exploring the room. Her sharp eyes scanned every detail, her earlier fear replaced by intrigue. "This looks like a hotel… but it doesn't feel like any normal hotel."

"Well, it's, uh… a special kind of hotel," I said, scratching my head as I tried to sound casual. "A place for people… like you. People with stories."

Léon's suspicion deepened. "And how do we leave?"

"Uh…" I opened my mouth, fumbling for an answer, when the door suddenly creaked open.

In walked the hotel manager, Mr. Harvey, clad in his impeccably tailored black suit. His ever-present enigmatic smile gave him an air of unsettling calm as he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

"Good evening, Mr. Montana and Miss Lando," he said smoothly, his deep voice measured and polite. "Welcome to Shadow Hotel. I am Andrew Harvey, the manager of this establishment."

Léon's expression darkened instantly, his posture stiffening as his hand instinctively inched closer to his weapon. "You know our names?" he asked coldly.

Harvey nodded without hesitation. "Indeed. All our guests, regardless of where they come from, are accounted for in our records. Shadow Hotel is a neutral and mysterious haven designed for those with unique stories and backgrounds."

Mathilda blinked in surprise. "So… what are we here for? And how do we leave?"

Harvey's smile remained unchanged as he replied, "Shadow Hotel is a resting point. Your story in your original world has already concluded. Here, we offer you the chance to rest, reset, and rediscover your path. Whether that means starting anew or finding answers, this is a sanctuary."

Mathilda tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. "Our story… has ended?"

Harvey nodded gently. "Yes, at least in your world. But here, you are free to write the next chapter. Shadow Hotel offers you everything you need to begin again."

Léon's gaze remained icy and unyielding. "And what's the price for this… fresh start?"

Harvey chuckled softly, his tone unbothered. "Shadow Hotel does not charge in gold or silver. But nothing in life is entirely free. Should the time come when your talents are needed, we may call upon you to assist."

"So you expect us to repay this favor," Léon said sharply, his voice tinged with distrust.

"It's not a demand," Harvey clarified. "Rather, it's a mutual understanding—a pact of goodwill. Until then, you are free to enjoy the peace we offer."

Léon's eyes narrowed as he considered the words. Mathilda glanced between the two men, her face torn between hope and uncertainty. "So… we don't have to run anymore? No one will be chasing us?"

Harvey inclined his head slightly. "Correct. This world is a clean slate for you both—a chance to begin anew."

The tension in the room slowly ebbed as Harvey's calm demeanor worked its subtle magic. Léon, however, remained cautious. "We'll stay for now," he said tersely, his tone leaving no doubt he was still on edge. "But I'll be ready to leave anytime."

Harvey's smile deepened. "Of course. We'll ensure your stay is both comfortable and secure."

As the door closed behind Harvey, I couldn't help but feel like I'd stepped into something far larger and more complex than I'd ever imagined. Shadow Hotel wasn't just a refuge—it was a crossroads for untold stories, a hub of intrigue and mystery. And somewhere in all this, I had a role to play.

Walking alongside Manager Harvey down the dimly lit hallway, I couldn't shake the flood of questions swirling in my head. I glanced at him, his expression calm and composed as always, and finally let my curiosity slip. "Mr. Harvey, these guests come from different worlds. Are you sure that won't cause problems?"

Harvey maintained his trademark smile, his voice as gentle and measured as ever. "Every guest here has their own story, often filled with unresolved conflicts or unanswered questions. Shadow Hotel exists as a neutral space where they can confront these matters without outside interference."

"But… some of them, like Léon—he's a hitman, for crying out loud—what happens if someone like that loses control?" I pressed, unable to hide my skepticism.

"Rest assured," Harvey replied, pausing briefly for effect, "the hotel has its own order. The rules here are more than just constraints; they're safeguards. As long as you abide by them, this place will remain safe and stable."

Yeah, sure, I thought, inwardly rolling my eyes. I couldn't help but remember the time I almost got myself killed when things spiraled out of control. Harvey's assurances sounded neat and tidy, but this so-called "safety" felt tenuous at best.

As if reading my thoughts, Harvey tilted his head slightly, his gaze carrying that same enigmatic knowingness. "There are things about the hotel that will make sense to you in time. Don't rush it, Loren."

I stifled the urge to retort and managed a half-hearted nod. "Understood, Manager. I'll… ease into it."

"Good," he said, his tone even, as though he hadn't noticed my less-than-enthusiastic response. "Remember, your job isn't just to welcome guests. It's to assist them in completing their stories. Only then will you truly grasp the 'order' of this place."

I followed him silently, the weight of his words settling on me. The so-called "order" of Shadow Hotel seemed to be something entirely beyond my understanding—or comfort zone.

As we walked, Harvey suddenly stopped, turning to face me with a subtle, knowing smile. "Now, Mr. Marcus, it's time for you to claim your reward for completing your latest task."

"Reward?" I blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Without thinking, I blurted out, "But the system already—" I froze mid-sentence, my heart skipping a beat. Crap. Did I just give away too much?

Harvey's expression didn't change, his gaze steady and unbothered. "The hotel's rewards may differ from what you're accustomed to," he said smoothly. "We aim to equip you with what's necessary to fulfill your duties. After all, our guests' stories are their own, but assisting them is your mission."

Before I could ask what that meant, he gestured for me to follow. He led me down to the hotel's third basement level, a place I hadn't explored before. The air grew cooler and heavier, the dim lighting casting a faint blue glow across the walls, creating a mysterious and almost foreboding atmosphere.

When we stepped inside, I couldn't believe my eyes. The walls were lined with an arsenal of weapons—handguns, rifles, shotguns, and even what looked like futuristic prototypes I couldn't name. It was like stepping into a mini armory straight out of an action movie.

"This is…" I stammered, at a loss for words. I turned to Harvey, who stood there with his usual serene smile.

"This," he explained calmly, "is the hotel's resource room. Choose a weapon that suits you."

My jaw practically hit the floor. "Choose… one?" My gaze darted between the rows of weapons, my pulse quickening with excitement. The possibilities felt endless.

Harvey nodded, his expression encouraging. "This is your reward for completing your mission."

A grin spread across my face before I could stop it. Well, this is a hell of a perk. My fingers brushed over the gleaming arsenal, my mind racing to weigh the options. Each weapon seemed to beckon, whispering promises of power and precision.

Eventually, my eyes landed on a sleek, robust rifle. Its streamlined design and dark finish gave it an aura of raw power. I picked it up, testing its weight, and immediately felt the surge of confidence it inspired.

"This rifle looks solid," I said, unable to hide the excitement in my voice.

Harvey nodded in approval but added, "A good choice, though I'd advise against it."

That caught me off guard. I glanced at him, frowning slightly. "Why not? It seems reliable enough."

He smiled faintly, his tone steady and devoid of judgment. "While rifles offer firepower, they require experience and can limit your mobility. If your goal is to adapt quickly and handle unpredictable scenarios, a more versatile and portable weapon might serve you better."

His words made me pause. He has a point. I wasn't exactly a trained marksman, and relying on sheer firepower could easily backfire.

"What would you recommend, then?" I asked, genuinely curious.

He gestured toward a handgun on the rack—a Glock 17. Its clean, simple design radiated practicality. The moment I picked it up, I could feel its perfect balance and lightweight build.

"This is the Glock 17," Harvey explained. "Renowned worldwide for its reliability and precision. Lightweight, with minimal recoil and a generous magazine capacity, it's ideal for close-quarters situations. For someone still honing their skills, it's an excellent choice."

I turned the Glock over in my hands, considering his words. It might not have the intimidating presence of a rifle, but it was practical and efficient—exactly what I needed right now.

"Alright, I'll take it," I decided, tucking the gun securely into its holster.

Harvey's smile widened slightly, as though I'd passed some unspoken test. "A wise choice. The most important factor in selecting a weapon isn't its power or appearance but how well it complements your abilities. May this serve you well."

I nodded, a newfound determination bubbling inside me. This wasn't just a weapon; it was a tool for survival—and perhaps for shaping my role in this enigmatic place.

As we left the armory, Harvey's tone turned lighter. "Now, you have five days off. Go home, rest, and clear your mind. There will be a new task waiting for you when you return."

"five days off?" I repeated, caught between disbelief and cautious excitement. Shadow Hotel wasn't exactly known for its leisurely pace. "You're serious?"

Harvey arched an eyebrow knowingly. "Yes. These five days are to help you recover and prepare for what lies ahead. At Shadow Hotel, we value the well-being of our staff."

"Well-being?" I muttered under my breath, stifling a laugh. Now you care about my well-being, after I've survived gunfights and otherworldly chaos?

Still, the idea of five days without danger felt like a miracle. "Alright… where can I go?"

"Return to your life, do whatever you wish," Harvey said with his usual calm. "But be back in five days—on time."

I nodded, though the thought of returning to a "life" felt strange. It had been so long since I'd considered what that even meant.

"Alright, see you in five days," I said, heading for the exit. My mind was already spinning with ideas on how to spend this unexpected reprieve.

As I left the armory, I glanced back at Harvey one last time. He remained where he stood, his enigmatic smile unwavering. For all his calm assurance, he was a man I couldn't quite figure out. But one thing was clear: five days from now, I'd be back—ready or not—to face whatever lay ahead.