[WARNING! Illegal intrusion detected.] [WARNING! Physical collision anomaly in the Lobby Area. Damage increased by 2%.]
The system alerts in my brain hadn't even finished ringing when I heard a deafening BOOM.
My solid wood counter—which I had just spent a fortune repairing—shuddered violently. The shockwave nearly knocked over my thermos, splashing a few goji berries onto my hand.
I sighed, put down the ledger I was auditing, and looked up at the disaster scene before me.
Just seconds ago, I was calculating whether this quarter's revenue could cover the cost of upgrading the "Second Floor Guest Rooms." But now, my lobby—the storefront I had worked so hard to make look somewhat human—had been smashed by a tin can that popped out of nowhere.
It was a man wearing heavy exoskeleton armor.
I recognized this gear. It was the "Titan Model-3" from the Main God Space exchange list, worth 30,000 points. But right now, he looked as pathetic as a dead dog fished out of a sewer. His body was sparking with electricity, the armor plating on his chest was torn open, and green acidic slime was dripping down, drip, drip, drip.
But what hurt me the most was... he was lying on my dark red wool carpet.
That was a genuine wool carpet I just "imported" from the Downton Abbey dungeon last month! It cost me 500 Computation Points!
The green slime dripped onto the carpet, making a sizzling corrosion sound and emitting a puff of foul-smelling white smoke.
"My carpet..."
I felt my heart twitch. That was the sound of money burning.
Frowning, I pulled out my black smartphone with a cracked screen and scanned the man on the floor.
[Identifying Target Data...][Identity Confirmed: Contractor][Codename: Thor][Affiliation: Thunder Squad]
[Combat Power Ranking: Main God Space No. 96]
"Tsk, a top 100 elite?"
Looking at the data on the screen, I couldn't help but roll my eyes.
This is the captain of the legendary "Thunder Squad"? The top-tier powerhouse who claims to have conquered countless S-rank dungeons? Why does he look less useful than a Roomba right now?
If even a Contractor of this level has such poor hygiene, the Main God Space really needs to improve its quality education.
The tin-can man struggled to crawl up. His helmet visor was shattered, revealing a face covered in blood and terror. He looked around blankly, clearly not understanding the situation yet.
"Hey, you in the scrap metal."
I couldn't hold back. My tone held zero respect for a "Top 100 Powerhouse," only deep disgust. I turned my phone screen towards him, displaying a bill generated in real-time.
"Do you know how hard it is to wash this carpet? That stuff on it is high-concentration acid, right? According to Article 3 of the Shadow Hotel Facility Damage Compensation Regulations, the cleaning fee alone will cost you at least 100 Computation Points! Which dungeon did you crawl out of? Don't you know the rules?"
The man named Thor froze.
He had probably never been spoken to like this in his life. Outside, he was a boss admired by thousands, but here, he was just a customer who dirtied the floor. Mouth agape, he stared at me foolishly, as if I were something scarier than a monster.
"I... I'm from Thunder... Behind me there's..." He stammered, trying to explain.
ROAR—!!!
Before he could finish, a roar loud enough to shatter my eardrums tore through the elegant jazz music playing in the lobby.
My main door, encoded with "Absolute Defense," flickered violently again. It seemed the visitor this time was high-level; it actually caused fluctuations in my firewall.
A massive, pitch-black claw reached out from the void, digging firmly into the floorboards, instantly gouging deep trenches into my solid wood floor.
Immediately after, a hideous black head drilled its way in.
Streamlined geometric carapace, elongated skull, a razor-sharp tail stinger...
I recognized this thing. It was the S-Rank BOSS from Data Pack A-79: the Xenomorph Queen.
The moment it entered, the temperature in the entire lobby dropped to freezing point. The suffocating killing intent and the stench made me frown.
"Watch out! It's an S-Rank monster!!"
Thor shouted, instinctively raising his broken hammer to shield me, his eyes full of despair. "Run! Even at my squad's peak, we couldn't stop it!"
I looked at this big bug parading around my lobby, drooling everywhere, and quickly did some mental math.
[Target Scan Complete][Subject: Xenomorph Queen][Danger Level: S (Nightmare)]
[Solution: Suggest using Lv.2 Physical Modification Authority.]
"Spending money again..."
I sighed helplessly, ignoring Thor's warning.
An S-Rank monster? In my eyes, it wasn't even worth as much as my carpet. It was just a pile of running, slightly bloated code.
"No outside pets allowed. Do you Contractors never read the user agreement at the door?"
Muttering to myself, I skillfully unlocked my screen.
Fighting head-on against something this thick-skinned is stupid; it would just damage more furniture. As a mature manager, my job is to solve problems at the minimum cost.
My fingers slid quickly across the screen, and I selected a red file name:
Texture_File: Alien_Skin_Black_Metal.png
The system popped up a prompt: [Execute "Delete Texture" operation?]
[Estimated Cost: 50 Computation Points.]
"50 points? That's daylight robbery." I twitched my lips in pain, but seeing its tail swinging toward my chandelier, I gritted my teeth and tapped 'Confirm'.
[Executing Command: Delete.]
Snap.
I looked up at the bloody maw dripping with saliva and gently snapped my fingers.
Be gone.
The next second, the art style changed abruptly.
The Xenomorph Queen's black geometric shell—that looked indestructible and terrified countless Contractors—suddenly flickered twice like a TV with a bad signal.
Then, it vanished into thin air.
No shell, no skin, not even that oppressive black color.
The terrifying four-meter-tall killing machine instantly turned into a pink, hairless, muscle-exposed... giant meat worm.
Its proud tail stinger, having lost its skeletal support, drooped limply like a soggy noodle. Its mouth, capable of crushing steel, now looked like two flaps of toothless pink gums, snapping awkwardly in the air.
"Ji?"
The balding Xenomorph Queen let out a confused squeak. The sound wasn't domineering at all; instead, it sounded incredibly aggrieved. It obviously realized something was wrong, as its two small, hairless claws instinctively covered its chest (even though there was nothing there). A sense of shame stemming from the depths of its soul made its entire fleshy body tremble.
Splat!
Without the support of its exoskeleton, its massive body could no longer stand. Like a giant lump of pink jelly, it fell heavily onto my floor, bouncing elastically a couple of times.
Dead silence.
The entire lobby was so quiet you could hear the hiss of the humidifier.
Thor's mouth was wide open, his jaw nearly hitting the floor.
He looked at the pink mountain of meat squirming on the ground, trying to find a crack to crawl into, then looked at me. His eyes looked like he was seeing God, or perhaps the Devil.
This was an S-Rank BOSS that had wiped out top-100 squads! And just like that... it was gone?
"Wha... What is this?" he asked, trembling.
"This is the consequence of violating the rules."
I put away my phone, feeling a bit depressed looking at the 50 points deducted from my account.
I straightened my suit collar and put on a standard professional fake smile. Since the cost had already been paid, I had to earn it back double from this "fat sheep."
"Alright, the pet problem is solved."
I pulled a yellowing check-in form from under the counter and tossed it in front of Thor with a crisp slap.
"Captain of the Thunder Squad, welcome to The Shadow Hotel."
"As you can see, I am the manager here, Lynn. This is the only safe zone in the Main God Space. As long as you have money, I guarantee not even the Grim Reaper can take you away."
I picked up my phone, opened the payment QR code, and tapped it a few times.
"Now, let's settle the bill."
"Floor repair fee, carpet cleaning fee, emotional damage fee... plus the energy cost I just used to handle that bug... That will be a total of 2000 Computation Points."
I looked at his exoskeleton armor—battered but still valuable—with eyes as sincere as a loan shark:
"Will you pay by direct transfer... or will you mortgage your life, along with that scrap metal, to me?"
...
Looking at this top-tier Contractor, who was completely dumbfounded by my hustle, I couldn't help but think back to a long time ago.
Back then, let alone deleting the texture pack of an S-Rank monster, even a low-level zombie could chase me down the street.
Back then, this hotel was nothing but ruins, and I was just an unlucky guy who had signed a fatal will.
Everything started on that accursed rainy night.