I crept toward the door, squinting through the peephole. A familiar, delicate, and gentle face met my gaze-it was Ming, the manager. Seeing him, a strange, indescribable feeling surged within me, but at the very least, I let out a sigh of relief knowing it wasn't that terrifying shapeshifting entity.
I turned the knob and softly unlocked the door. Manager Ming stood tall at the entrance, his indifferent gaze scanning the room.
When he spotted Yashu sitting on my bed, he didn't utter a word, but his stiff expression betrayed him. It seemed a disastrous misunderstanding had just taken root in his mind.
Clearing his throat to break the stifling atmosphere, Ming spoke up:
-"You two, change quickly and get out to work."
He casually tossed a neatly folded stack of server uniforms toward me, then decisively turned his back and left.
I looked at the two sets of clothes in my hands, sighed softly, and handed one to Yashu:
-"You should change too. See you outside in a bit."
Yashu gave a soft, quiet "Um," hugged the uniform, and hurried back to her room. I bolted the door and began to change.
In just a few moments, everything was in order. Looking at myself in the mirror, I felt as if I had shed an old skin, readying myself for whatever was to come.
Stepping out into the hallway, I didn't forget to lock my door. At the same moment, the opposite door opened, and Yashu emerged in her new uniform. Our eyes met for a second; she gave a slight tilt of her chin forward-a silent urge for us to move together.
We headed to the main lounge, where the cafe was buzzing with opening preparations. The wall clock above the counter struck 4:45 AM. Perhaps this was the "golden hour" to welcome the first bizarre guests of the day.
I began arranging the tables and chairs while Yashu swiftly organized the rags and tools on the counter. Through the glass pane, the "Sun"-which was actually a giant eyeball-was slowly rising from the horizon. A scene that should have brought a sense of a peaceful beginning, but in this world, it only sent shivers down one's spine.
Before long, the first wave of customers flooded in. From the deep, dark corridor in the back, the rest of the service staff poured out simultaneously. It seemed they had all woken up at the same time as us.
Today's crowd was unusually large, seemingly double that of yesterday. A premonition of a tempestuous shift manifested clearly in my mind. "Ting... ting!"
The first order bell rang from a group of customers who looked like office workers. I quickly approached, speaking with professional courtesy:
-"Hello, what can I get for you?"
They began a noisy discussion over the menu. That bustle suddenly made my heart ache, reminding me of family meals with my mother and grandparents. Back then, everyone used to debate over food with such warmth... After some consideration, they decided to order a variety of pastries and several complex drinks.
I quickly noted the requests and headed to the counter to start preparing. The shrill whirring of the coffee grinder shattered the air as coffee beans were crushed, releasing a pungent aroma. I repeated the motions that had gradually become instinct: tamping the grounds, locking the portafilter, and waiting for the dark brown liquid to extract, cup by cup.
This job, all things considered, was quite light, but the constant repetition within this eerie space began to breed a sense of tedious boredom. However, in this world fraught with danger, boredom was sometimes a form of mercy.
After finishing the final drinks, I placed them on a tray and carefully brought them out to the group.
And so, the work of a server in this place revolved around orders and the sound of machinery. As the hurried morning crowd gradually thinned, time began to slow down, dragging on until noon. Taking advantage of the lull, I brewed myself a cup of extra-strong coffee. The sharp bitterness flooded my tongue like a wake-up drug, helping me push away the fatigue creeping into my every muscle.
The midday sun began to beat down fiercely, the sweltering heat making it hard to breathe. Although the number of guests had dwindled slightly, the cafe maintained a certain busy rhythm. The simmering heat made my mind foggy, and I secretly longed to sprawl out on my familiar bed, enjoying the cool breeze from an electric fan like the days back home. But the reality here was only the smell of coffee mixed with the thick, heavy air of a strange world.
The stream of people moved before my eyes like a slow-motion film. Some were in a rush as if racing against death itself; others were leisurely as if time were infinite to them. Sometimes, I felt time passing too quickly, but at other times, it felt as heavy as a block of lead.
Outside the window, the "Eye Sun" began to sink, swallowed by the dark mountain ranges. It, too, seemed weary after a day of monitoring the world, preparing to "clock out" to make way for the cold moon to seize the sky. The atmosphere gradually shifted to a glossy, fatty yellow, draping everything in a layer of melancholy yet magnificent color.
I stole a glance at Yashu. In contrast to my exhaustion, she was still working briskly with a radiant smile, bursting with energy as if the life force within her never ran dry. Looking at her, I couldn't help but feel a silent admiration. How could a human maintain such incredible optimism and endurance after a long day of being drained in this hellish place? Perhaps that very energy was what kept both of us from being submerged in despair.
Another day passed in total exhaustion.
When the last guests departed with hurried footsteps, I was finally able to let out a long sigh of relief. Finally free from those bizarre gazes, those eyes with unknown intentions that had been glued to me all day. Thinking about finally lying down to rest, I was actually moved to the point of tears. I silently cleaned up with a grim face, no longer having the strength to utter a single word.
The remaining pale yellow sunset danced on the rooftops. A few stray gusts of wind slipped through the door cracks, blowing into the small potted plants in the shop with a dizzying, overwhelming sensation. Yashu, holding a watering can, meticulously tended to the flower clusters while softly starting a conversation:
-"So... we have to leave tomorrow, don't we?"
-"That was fast," I replied curtly, then glanced at her. -"You seem pretty confident, huh?"
-"Not really, I'm quite worried too." Yashu paused, her gaze turning distant for a moment before looking straight at me. "Have you prepared anything for tomorrow?"
-"I don't know. Probably nothing yet," I answered, my tone growing deeper. To be honest, I was completely in the dark about the upcoming challenges. Without a single weapon for self-defense, the only thing I could carry was a weary spirit that was forced to be ready to face death.
Hearing that, Yashu smiled faintly, but it was as fleeting as a fading sunbeam. She rested her chin on her hand, her delicate brows furrowing slightly as if she had just remembered something. she lowered her voice:
-"Do you think... that imposter creature will come back tonight?"
Her question struck right at my hidden fear. The possibility was high, but my heart screamed in hope that it would never visit that room again. With this sleep rhythm of only four hours a night, I feared I would die of exhaustion and insomnia before those demons could tear me apart.
After finishing the cleaning, we stepped back into the dark corridor toward the old kitchen, following yesterday's routine.
However, my footsteps abruptly halted. A cold electric jolt ran down my spine when I saw the silhouette of Manager Ming blocking the path. He stood with his back to us, motionless and silent like a statue carved from cold stone. In the stillness, that back exuded an indescribable eeriness.
Both Yashu and I felt uneasy, instinctively stepping back to maintain a safe distance. Yashu mustered the courage to speak, her voice trembling slightly:
-"Um... Mr. Ming, are you okay?"
Immediately, his body twitched slightly. His hands shuddered once before he whipped around. Contrary to our fears, his face was as gentle as usual, without a hint of change:
-"Ah, sorry. I was blocking your way, wasn't I? It's just... I lost focus for a moment."
He answered in a raspy voice, as if there were sand in his throat. I had been fully prepared to bolt, but that nonchalant explanation left me stunned. It took a long while for my heart rate to stabilize. Could a person as eccentric and powerful as Manager Ming also have moments of being so dazed he forgot reality? This was truly rare, and hard to believe.
-"It's okay, sir," Yashu replied softly, trying to appear sympathetic to ease the atmosphere.
We squeezed past him, walking quickly toward the kitchen as if escaping the manager's gaze. Soon, the old cooking area appeared before us. Yashu nimbly went to the food storage, her hands beginning to prep the pots and pans:
-"Shall we change the menu today? Let's see... how about sautéed cabbage?"
-"Sounds good," I replied, trying to push the weird image of Manager Ming out of my head to focus on tonight's dinner.
I stood dazed before the wide-open refrigerator, which was filled with surprisingly fresh food. ( All of this... was prepared by the manager? ) I wondered silently. But then, hunger and fatigue made me quickly dismiss the thought. ( Best not to think about him... )
After washing the cabbage, I handed it to Yashu. She took it and quickly tossed it into the pan. The sizzling sound of oil was pleasant to the ears; her movements were unexpectedly decisive and professional. Yashu focused intently on the food as it cooked, but she didn't forget to remind me of the important plan:
-"We leave tomorrow at 3:30 AM."
-"That early?" I was slightly surprised, my eyebrows arching.
-"That's the regulated time," she answered while tossing the pan, her demeanor unusually calm.
-"But... we just leave like that? I thought we had to ask permission or report to the manager?"
Yashu shook her head slightly, explaining in detail:
-"Ah, there's no need for such tedious procedures. Did you notice that glass jar on the coffee counter? We just need to drop a strand of our hair into it, and Ming will automatically know we've requested absence."
Her explanation made me shudder slightly. A notification method that was deeply bizarre and ritualistic. Perhaps this was the "rule of the game" in this world-a place where even tiny things like a strand of hair held the power to determine a person's presence. It was a process both convenient and terrifying.
The clatter of the gas stove turning off coincided with Yashu's triumphant voice: "Here, it's done!"
I looked at the plate of steaming sautéed cabbage she had just plated. The fragrant aroma of spices blended with the sweet freshness of the vegetables hit my nose, awakening all my weary senses after the long day. I couldn't help but blurt out a compliment:
-"You've got some skills!"
Yashu paused for a beat at the unexpected praise, then her eyes crinkled as a radiant smile bloomed on her lips.
We set the table and began to enjoy the simple dinner. Yashu sat across from me, looking much more cheerful, occasionally pursing her lips into a smirk as if hiding some small joy. We started chatting about random stories, from personal hobbies to a few scattered memories from before we got lost in this place.
The meal ended quickly; I took the initiative to gather the dishes and wash them. The night wind drifted through the small window, carrying a refreshing chill that helped soothe the heavy, gloomy feeling that had besieged my heart all day.
Before long, everything was cleaned and tidy. The two of us once again trudged along the long, dark corridor back to our rooms. The sound of solitary footsteps echoed on the tiles like a metronome for the terrifying silence of the night. I prayed silently, hoping tonight would be a truly peaceful night, so I would have enough strength for the journey of life and death early tomorrow morning.
Just as I was about to step into Room 109, Yashu suddenly called out from behind:
-"To be sure... let's make a signal."
With that, she held out a small handkerchief embroidered with a rather cute cat. I understood her intent immediately, so I took off the small bracelet I always wore and gave it to her. This exchange of identification items was the only way for us to recognize each other if that shapeshifting entity appeared again. After carefully stowing away each other's "signal," Yashu nodded slightly and turned back to her room.
I stood still for a moment, looking at the handkerchief-still warm from her touch-in the palm of my hand, then carefully folded it into my pocket.
However, I didn't rush into the room just yet. I squinted, leaning down to meticulously check the doorknob. Before leaving for work this morning, I had secretly swept a thin layer of dust from the corner of the wall and spread it evenly over it. A crude but effective trap to verify if anyone had sneaked in while I was away.
Fortunately, the dust lay still, exactly as it had been. There were no traces of movement or any strange fingerprints. A surge of relief ran through my body; I exhaled softly before inserting the key and stepping inside.
I scanned the room; it was the same four familiar walls of Room 109. Despite being exhausted, I forced myself to check everywhere from under the bed to the dark corners to ensure no uninvited guests were hiding. Repeating this routine every night was starting to feel like a nuisance, but in this eerie place, carelessness was a one-way ticket to death. I had to be cautious, down to the smallest detail.
After a thorough sweep, I finally dared to shed my last layer of defense, collapsing onto the soft bed. The sensation of the mattress sinking and embracing my weary body was truly a salvation. Indeed, after a long day of facing bizarre faces and the pressure of survival, a deep sleep was still the most precious medicine.
I lay on my back, eyes staring blankly at the dark ceiling. Soon, my consciousness began to blur; the images of the cafe, Yashu, and Manager Ming faded away.
Sleepiness was like an undertow, finally surging and plunging me into silence.
I closed my eyes tight, surrendering myself to the darkness, slowly sinking into a deep sleep... not knowing what kind of world would be waiting for me when I woke up tomorrow.