A few minutes later after that, the large group of students and accompanying teachers filed into the opulent lobby of the La Luna Sangre Hotel.
The interior was a breathtaking sensory experience: a towering atrium of polished mahogany and imported, creamy marble.
High ceilings disappeared into a maze of intricate gold molding, and dramatic, crimson velvet accents were draped over every major archway and seating area.
Leading the pack, with an almost theatrical, proprietary flair, was Yuri Calypso herself.
"Welcome to the inside of the first hotel building! We call this the 'Fun Side'!"
Ramoss, the Assistant, trailed slightly behind, his silk tie impeccably knotted and his frustration levels visibly rising as he clutched a heavy, official-looking clipboard.
He deadpanned the correction immediately.
"You mean the shopping and entertainment area. Use the official, registered terms, Yuri."
Yuri waved a dismissive, manicured hand, not even looking back at him.
"Yeah, that. Less restrictive terminology is more chic, Ramoss. Try to keep up with the vibes of the youth."
The Assistant sighed, rubbing his temples hard enough to wrinkle his perfect skin.
"Just hand me the credits for the room keys, and I'll deal with the check-in queue before they panic about their luggage."
Yuri crossed her arms, a determined glint in her eyes. "No. I'm handling the grand tour. It's my establishment; I get to introduce it."
Ramoss shot her a withering glare, but the argument was clearly a routine one, and he relented, pulling his phone out to check the time.
"Fine. But if we miss the dinner seating for the entire contingent, I'm billing you personally for the catering costs—plus hazard pay for listening to this nonsense."
As Yuri continued her enthusiastic, if slightly chaotic and vague, introduction of the hotel's amenities, a low, excited murmur ran through the students.
Many immediately raised their phones, snapping photos of the glittering arcades, the high-end jewelry displays, and the luxury boutique storefronts that were visible down the sweeping, column-lined corridors. The sheer extravagance of the place was intoxicating.
The low chatter of the crowd was suddenly pierced by a small, anxious voice.
A young female student, recognizable by her thick-rimmed glasses and the notebook she clutched tightly to her chest, tentatively raised her hand toward Yuri.
Yuri stopped mid-stride, turning with a sharp pivot that forced the entire procession to halt awkwardly behind her.
"Miss Yuri... um, if you don't mind... What exactly is the history of this hotel? I'm just curious, and I couldn't find much online about it..."
She finished her question with a nervous, nearly silent chuckle, already retreating slightly under the sudden attention. After all, she was facing the Former Mafia Queen of Japan herself.
Yuri's face instantly lit up with an unnerving, high-wattage smile—one that didn't quite reach her cold, jade-green eyes.
"A good question! At least someone here isn't completely preoccupied with the Wi-Fi password. Worth wasting my time touring."
The sarcastic remark hung in the air, delivered without any pretense of an apology. Yuri drew herself up, preparing for her dramatic reveal.
She paused, a slight, curious hesitation flickering across her eyes as she gauged her audience.
"Well, ten years ago, this very stretch of land wasn't even a building. It was, first and foremost... a cemetery."
Every student and teacher in the group merely nodded slowly. There were no gasps, no wide-eyed exchanges of surprise, and certainly no shrieks of manufactured fear.
They simply accepted the fact as though she had told them it used to be a gas station.
Yuri stared at their bored, unsurprised faces, her excitement visibly draining away in real-time.
"Wha— How come you guys are not surprised?! I thought that would be a shocking reveal!"
Ramoss leaned close to Yuri, his expression strained.
"Yuri, some schools here in Malaysia have the same boilerplate ghost stories. 'Our library was a morgue,' 'The playground was a burial ground.' It's a national cliché. Haven't you ever heard of one?"
Yuri straightened her silk blouse defensively, her voice rising in outrage.
"I learned everything through high-end homeschooling and private European tutors." She said in a prideful tone. "My curriculum was bespoke, Ramoss, not based on low-tier urban myths! Now shut up and let me continue."
Yuri took a deep, theatrical breath, clearly resetting her dramatic effort. She spread her arms slightly, her posture conveying a strange mix of pride and simmering apprehension, as if she was bracing for impact.
"Alright, second chapter of this establishment's history: after the cemetery was cleared, this prime real estate was converted into a massive, illegal casino."
She said the word with a noticeable, self-satisfied pride.
"It was one of the most profitable establishments in Southeast Asia, owned by my father... Kenzo Calypso!"
This time, the reaction was immediate, authentic, and visceral.
A collective, audible gasp swept through the students and teachers alike. Eyes widened, jaws dropped open in unified shock, and the low chatter instantly ceased, replaced by a dense, stunned silence.
The mention of Kenzo Calypso—a name whispered in hushed, nervous tones across international news ten years prior—was truly shocking.
He wasn't a local ghost story; he was history. He was the infamous, ruthless Japanese Mafia boss, a notorious figure known for his relentless pursuit of wealth through the harshest of businesses.
His name was synonymous with illicit global operations, having made his fortune dominating the underground casino circuit in Japan before controversially expanding his empire to Malaysia, until Koby Frantzes, in his younger years, brought him to his greatest downfall.
That information wasn't known to the public because of the government, making the guests' surprises believable. Until now, because of Kenzo's Daughter; Yuri.
The Girl with Glasses, though visibly trembling now, still managed to force out the follow-up question that was burning on everyone's mind.
"And... and what happened to your dad now? He just... sold the business and retired?"
Yuri's eyes flashed slightly, a brief, cold darkness crossing her expression—a dangerous, fleeting shadow that seemed to confirm the worst speculations.
She hesitated for a fraction of a second, then that high-wattage smile snapped back into place, brighter and more forced than before.
She practically shouted the answer, her voice echoing and reverberating off the polished marble walls of the grand lobby.
"I... had him eliminated!"
Another, louder wave of shock and raw disbelief crashed over the audience. Teachers and students alike recoiled physically, taking a collective step backward as if she were suddenly contagious.
They stared at Yuri as if she had just confessed to a capital crime on live television, a beautiful, smiling monster standing before them. The silence was absolute, heavy with fear.
Ramoss, his face a mask of furious, mortified calm, suddenly materialized next to Yuri. He delivered a sharp, decisive whack to the side of her head with the solid, plastic clipboard—it landed with a thwack that echoed in the stunned quiet.
"That is not how you describe someone's passing! Have some dignity, or at least common sense, when speaking to guests! You idiot!"
Yuri rubbed the spot on her head where the clipboard had struck, her smile momentarily faltering into a pout.
"What? Are you telling me to be more poetic about it? 'He met an unexpected, tragic end due to a series of poor life choices involving a rival syndicate'? I'm not a damn writer!"
Ramoss grabbed her arm, his voice a low, desperate hiss. "That isn't the point! You should be more respectful and mindful about what you say next, because this is a hotel opening, not a true crime documentary!"
"Except it is." She added.
Yuri ignored him completely, shaking off his hand and stepping forward. She extended her hand toward the towering ceiling of the lobby with a majestic, proprietary gesture.
"—and then, moving here, I took his former illegal casino, gutted it, and turned it into the La Luna Sangre Hotel! An establishment of my own design and vision, founded on... ah... cleaner money!"
Ramoss, completely livid and clutching her clipboard like a weapon, moved to physically grab Yuri and haul her away from the guests.
"STOP IGNORING ME, YOU ABSOLUTELY UNPROFESSIONAL—"
Driven by pure annoyance at the interruption, Yuri didn't even bother to turn around. She executed a lightning-fast, back-of-the-hand strike, a subtle, almost effortless motion that connected 'lightly' with Ramoss's jaw.
The result was anything but light.
Ramoss was sent flying.
He shot across the polished marble floor and crashed violently into a load-bearing wall with a sickening thud that shook the decorative sconces.
He slid down the wall, motionless.
The students, the teachers, even the uniformed hotel staff who had been trying to remain discreet, all stared at the events that had unfolded in shocked, horrified disbelief.
Yuri turned back to the crowd, her high-wattage smile back in full force, and delivered her explanation in a saccharine, singsong voice.
"Sorry 'bout that, everyone! A fly came over me. Nasty little thing."
The head teacher from the largest contingent found his voice, which came out strained and weak.
"THAT WASN'T A FLY, MISS YURI! YOU JUST... YOU JUST KILLED YOUR ASSISTANT!" Everyone said in unison.
Yuri tilted her head, her smile maintaining its unsettling perfection.
"Killed? Oh, no, no. He's not dead. He's alive, just... not moving and possibly having an impromptu, mandatory nap."
A teacher, her voice trembling, pressed the issue. "If he's not moving, that means he's dead!"
Yuri's smile did not falter, but the air in the lobby seemed to drop ten degrees. Her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, and her voice became a low, silky threat that carried clearly through the suddenly silent room.
"You seem determined to find out. Want to be next?"
The entire group of students and teachers seemed to shrink in unison. The earlier, panicked fear of ghosts and mob bosses was instantly replaced by the very real, immediate terror of their current hostess.
"No, we didn't mean that at all, Miss Yuri. Apologies." Everyone murmured in unison, their tone becoming calm, soft, and utterly compliant in an instant.
Suddenly, distant angry muttering can be heard as someone approaches Yuri. A bloodied head in which its trickle of blood fell down to their cheeks, but simply cleaned it off without a faze.
It is Ramoss, coming back from the dead. And everyone was left in disbelief.
"See? He's not dead." Yuri Calypso herself just simply smiled, ignoring the fact that her own assistant is glaring at her from behind.
"Anyways, where did we stop? Hmm… ah, yes, as for the third chapter of this establishment's history–"
Right before she could finish her sentence, Ramoss outright launched a powerful kick into her face, sending the supposed terrifying Mafia Queen flying and crashing by her own assistant.
"Fool, just what makes you think I would go down without a fight…"
Ramoss said, pulling up his sleeves as he readies himself for a tug of war. But not until he remembered something as his eyes lit up before reaching his pockets, taking out the credits for the room keys that he secretly stole for Yuri just a second ago before kicking her away.
He then casually handed it over to T. Myrcella, who was standing there, was a bit surprised and amused by the scenery she was forced to watch.
"Here's the key credit, I'll deal with the check-in queue later once I'm done with her." He said, smiling professionally despite the situation. "Oh, and by the way, if you feel any slight tremors, feel free to ignore it!"
After that, Ramoss began approaching the location where Yuri landed, and the teachers began leading the students away in panic, away from the fight that was just about to happen.
The ensuing, undignified, and terrifying tussle between the impeccably dressed hotel owner and her exasperated, possibly comatose assistant had proven to be far more interesting, and far more dangerous, to the students than the hotel's dark, mob-related past.