I took a deep breath.
The meaning behind the words of the manager—the former Mountain Lodge Keeper—coming from the speaker embedded inside the grotesquely gaping mouth of the Golden mascot before me was perfectly clear.
He intended to take my resort for himself.
—Then please diligently complete your assigned cleaning duties and return.
…….
“I understand what you mean.”
Gripping the wet-mop handle tightly, I stared at the speaker.
“In that case, I’ll at least take back the belongings I was storing here.”
My old belongings.
The Items and equipment I’d stored inside my tattoo and kept in the resort’s facility room.
Along with my personal possessions.
“Those aren’t resort assets. They’re unquestionably mine, right?”
But—
—I’m afraid I find it difficult to understand what you’re referring to. This resort does not provide any special storage service for personal belongings.
That overbearing tone came out again, almost mocking me.
—To begin with, it is difficult to believe the claim that a mere day cleaner would ever have had occasion to entrust belongings to a resort of this caliber.
—I believe there is no connection whatsoever.
Wow, this bastard.
‘So you don’t want to return my equipment and Items either.’
I resisted the urge to squeeze my eyes shut.
Right.
Maybe it was only natural for an employment contract with a Ghost Story to end like this.
Wasn’t this bastard the guy who used to operate a murderous mountain lodge?
Once the contractual terms ended, I shouldn’t expect ordinary morality from him.
Especially when anyone could see he’d always possessed ambition and desire for territory and status.
‘When I realized three years had passed here, I should’ve counted the dates and worked backward.’
I’d been too busy processing the shocking…