"When I realized it, the elevator doors were already open." She gave a small shrug. "They stood wide, the familiar fluorescent light pouring out from within. I dove straight in and, trembling, jabbed the button for the ground floor.
Back in the lobby, everyone was startled. No wonder—my face was pale, my body was shaking, and I could barely form a sentence. The manager came over and asked what had happened. I stammered through an explanation, telling him something was off about the sixteenth floor.
He barely let me finish a sentence before calling over a young staffer. The three of us rode back up to the sixteenth floor to check things out.
But there was nothing. Everything looked perfectly normal—brightly lit, not a trace of a strange smell. We even asked the guy resting in the break room. He said he hadn't slept a wink and there definitely hadn't been any blackout. Just to be safe, we walked through the entire floor. Still nothing. It felt like I'd imagined the whole thing—like I'd been possessed or something.
"When we got back down, the manager called me into his office. I thought for sure he was going to lose it—but he didn't. Instead, he asked me to tell him everything, in full detail. So I told him everything—every single thing, even the strange, scraping footsteps. It felt ridiculous saying it out loud, and I thought he'd mock me for dreaming up nonsense in broad daylight.
"But he didn't laugh. In fact, his expression was unusually serious—attentive, even. Then he said, 'Don't mention this to anyone else.' He spoke in this oddly gentle, almost fatherly tone: 'Maybe it was just some kind of mistake. But it wouldn't do to make the others nervous, right? So let's just keep quiet about it.'
"Our manager was never the gentle type—usually he'd tear into us at the drop of a hat. So I started thinking... maybe I was the first one to go through something like this."
Wang Yong pressed his lips together. "Have you ever heard anyone else mention something similar?"
Yumiji hesitated, her hand slightly trembling in Wang Yong's warm palm, then slowly calmed.
"I don't think so. But it's just a feeling, you know? Like there's something strange about this hotel. The way the manager looked when I told him—it wasn't disbelief, more like recognition. And honestly, there's no shortage of gossip around here. I shouldn't say this, but... it really does feel abnormal.
"The last hotel I worked at was totally different. Smaller, yes, and in a different kind of place—but still, the atmosphere was just... different. Sure, every hotel has its fair share of ghost stories—can't avoid that—but usually, we just laugh them off.
"But not here. There's no laughing things off in this place. That's what makes it scary. If the manager had laughed or even yelled at me, maybe I could've convinced myself it was all a mistake."
She narrowed her eyes slightly, gazing into her wine glass, lost in thought.
"Have you been back to the sixteenth floor since then?" Wang Yong asked.
"A few times," she said calmly. "I have to—part of the job. But only during the day. I refuse to go at night. No matter what. I never want to go through that again. That's why I don't work night shifts. I already told them—I said clearly that I'm not okay with it."
Wang Yong nodded.
"Hey—you said you knew about things like this. Can you explain?"
Wang Yong smiled softly, gently tracing Yumiji's slender fingers.
"There used to be a small hotel right where this one stands now. Same name—Dolphin Hotel, right?"
Yumiji nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face.
"When this new Dolphin Hotel chain bought out the old place, they used some rather shady methods. The owner of the original hotel was stubborn—tough as nails—but eventually, he had to give in. You know how this whole chain of five-star Dolphin Hotels got its name, right?"
"Mm." Yumiji looked slightly uneasy.
"So it was that Dolphin Hotel. There was a feature in a magazine once that exposed the whole story—caused a stir among all of us. You're not here because of that hotel's owner, are you?"
Wang Yong smiled. "Not exactly." He continued, still holding Yumiji's pale, delicate fingers in his hand.
"The old Dolphin Hotel had a strange little exhibit inside—a Hokkaido Sheep Breeding Museum. There was an old relic of a man living there. They called him the Ram-Man. A bit eerie, really. That part of the original hotel still exists—embedded in some strange way within the sixteenth floor of this new hotel. Under certain conditions, it's possible to enter it."
Yumiji gripped his hand tighter, eyes wide. "Really? I thought you wouldn't believe me."
"I do."
"You've experienced something like this? Or maybe investigated it yourself?"
"I think I've had an experience. A long time ago."
"Were you scared?"
"I was just a kid. Not exactly scared—more like... confused by the unknown."
Yumiji looked up and smiled—a different smile than before. A private one. Having shared everything, she seemed visibly lighter.
"You know," she said, "when I talk to you, I feel... grounded. I'm usually terrible with strangers—talking to people I don't know makes me uneasy. But with you, I feel calm."
Wang Yong smiled. He did have that effect on people—drawing out their secrets. But it always required a bit of honesty in return.
"So this Ram-Man... what's the story?"
"Not going to eat anything?" he asked. "Suddenly, I'm starving."
"You're seriously going to eat while we're talking about something this creepy?"
"Why not? I'm just as nervous as you are. Let's relax a little."
Wang Yong called the waiter over and ordered a pizza and a well-done steak.
"As for the Ram-Man—I don't really know. He's probably been around for centuries. Since the time of Temüjin."
"Temüjin?"
"Genghis Khan."
"Oh."
"It's said that anyone who obtains his power can achieve great ambition—even dominate the world. But the price is steep. Usually, it comes with massive death tolls."
Yumiji listened as if she were hearing a myth. "So, why are you here?"
Her eyes were still clear, not a trace of fear in them.
Which made sense—this was all so far removed from real life. World domination? It all felt impossibly distant. Unreal.
Wang Yong chuckled lightly, and the two shifted to lighter conversation. Whether Yumiji truly believed it or not didn't matter—the story was so outlandish that even a fragment of understanding brought a strange kind of comfort.
They chatted over their meal. She talked about her work at the hotel, life in Sapporo. She told him she was twenty-three, had gone to a vocational school for hotel training after high school, then worked two years at a Tokyo hotel before applying to Dolphin Hotel when she saw their hiring ad. Sapporo felt like the right place for her—her parents ran a traditional inn near Asahikawa in Hokkaido.
"It's a good inn," she said. "Been around for ages."
"So you came here to gain experience before eventually taking over?"
"Not really," she said. She pulled her hand back to adjust the frame of her glasses, her cheeks flushing slightly. "I've never thought that far ahead. I just like it—working in hotels, I mean. People come, they stay, then leave. I like that. It feels peaceful. Honest work. I grew up around this stuff, you know? I'm used to it."
"Fair enough," Wang Yong said. Her hand had slipped away from his, leaving a faint sense of emptiness.