Just before dawn, when the sky bleeds into a bruised shade of violet, the atmosphere of Hotel Blue Moon reaches its peak of eerie stillness. The Proprietor sat in his private office on the top floor—a sanctuary encased in glass that offered a panoramic view of Seoul, looking like a sprawling map of fallen stars.
He placed his silver cane on the mahogany desk. At its crown sat a massive, uncut Moonstone. In the absence of direct moonlight, the gem looked dull, like a dead eye. The Proprietor slowly peeled off his right leather glove, revealing his palm. Etched into his skin was a mark resembling a twisted, blackened vine—an ancient curse that seemed to have taken root deep within his veins.
"You haven't slept again, Master," a voice interrupted.
Manager Choi stood by the door, carrying a tray with a single earthen cup of steaming tea. The aroma was bitter, brewed from roots that didn't grow in the world of the living.
"Those who harvest death do not have the luxury of sleep, Choi," the Proprietor replied without turning. His gaze remained fixed on the fading blue moon. "The cane feels heavy tonight. It means somewhere in this city, a soul has awakened with a hatred so potent it could shake the very foundations of this hotel."
Choi placed the tea on the desk and lowered his voice. "Are you referring to the stone? The one left behind when Jang Man-wol departed?"
The Proprietor finally turned his chair. For a fleeting second, his eyes reflected an infinite void. "Man-wol was punished by becoming a tree—rooted and bound. But my penance is different. I must guide souls using the light of this blue stone, yet I am a creature of the dark. This stone feeds on my life force even as it grants me the power to exist."
He placed his bare hand over the Moonstone. Instantly, the gem throbbed with a rhythmic, cerulean light. The blackened vine on his palm glowed a painful neon blue, tracing the map of his curse. His jaw tightened, but he did not flinch. He was a man well-acquainted with agony.
"A special guest is coming tonight," the Proprietor stated, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Not a mere wanderer. Someone who has been searching for the entrance to this hotel for over a hundred years. They carry a key—a key to the one room in Blue Moon I have yet to open."
Manager Choi looked visibly shaken. "Are you speaking of the 'Void Chamber'?"
"Yes." The Proprietor stood up, sliding his glove back on to hide the mark. "Jang Man-wol took many secrets with her when she crossed the bridge. But some things remain trapped within these walls. I need that key."
Suddenly, a piercing shriek erupted from the lobby far below. It wasn't a human cry; it sounded like a predatory beast mourning its own kill. On the desk, the Moonstone on the cane abruptly turned from blue to a violent, pulsating crimson.
A cold, satisfied smile played on the Proprietor's lips. "The hunter has arrived seeking the prey. Come, Choi. Let us see what a century's worth of hatred looks like."