A Night Of Art

“S-so, it means someone who finally understands my art has appeared…!”

His wounds had been treated, but the Ripper didn’t mind that his body was still bound to the surgical frame.

More than that, he was happy that someone before him understood him. Truly, purely.

Or perhaps his brain was refusing to understand the situation on purpose.

“Understand….”

At that, Chairman Vlad Țepeș tilted his head.

“I have no intention of understanding your art.”

After tilting his head, he answered calmly.

“As a fellow artist, I simply feel nothing but utter shame.”

“W-what?”

“So you’re saying the state of these victims is art.”

As he spoke, Chairman Țepeș held out the photographs of the victims’ gruesome state again. That object, with limbs severed or twisted, the human body torn open, cut apart, and dug into.

“Th-that’s right! The victim’s scream as they thrash in pain, despair that cannot be reached! The sweet composition born from their cries…! That is the red art I create with my blood…! A harmony of slaughter and madness!”

At the continued nonsense, Solomon frowned in silence.

In a way, he might have been relieved. Better this than that hopeless bastard getting caught by the Sword Watch in one piece and receiving an ordinary legal punishment.

“This is the ultimate work, sublimating my aimless hatred and rage into art!”

Because this ending suited his ‘price for sin’ far better.

‘Sounds like someone who flunked art school and turned into a dictator.’

Solomon thought, dumbfounded.

Chairman Țepeș continued.

“Oh, so by your logic, you’re claiming the generals and conquerors of this world are the greatest artists.”

“W-what…?”

“Have you ever seen the horrors of a battlefield?”

Chairman Țepeș asked, with no ulterior motive, as if he were genuinely curious.

“In any era. We can take this era for example. If that ‘horror’ you describe, of people killing, tearing, and cutting people, is art, then the creators of that art must be none other than generals and rulers.”

Chairman Țepeș said calmly.

Because they are the ones who design the vast, horrific stage of slaughter and raise its curtain.”

“N-no, that’s wrong! I…”

“What is wrong?”

Chairman Țepeș continued as if he couldn’t understand.

“There is nothing different. The art you speak of is, at least for ordinary soldiers who go to war, something anyone experiences, an everyday occurrence that is, in a sense, quite trivial.”

“Inflicting pain, failing to endure it, suffering, bodies breaking… all those procedures.”

Mid-sentence, Chairman Țepeș tilted his head absentmindedly.

“Ah, have you never experienced war?”

Purely asked, but at those words, the Ripper’s expression twisted.

Chairman Țepeș shrugged as if it wasn’t surprising.

“I thought so. That’s why you would dare call such ignorant, low-grade vulgarity ‘art.’”

For the first time, undisguisable contempt and disgust appeared on his face.

Only then did the Ripper remember, anew, that he was tied to the surgical frame.

And that the ones who healed his wounds were not doctors, but chefs.

“Well, the value assigned to a work differs for everyone. In that sense, you could call this respect paid to your art.”

As he spoke, Chairman Țepeș gestured.

With that, the men in sanitary outfits approached the Ripper. They held scalpels that gleamed chillingly toward him as he struggled in fear.

“W-w-wait! W-what is this…!”

“What is this you ask? Wasn’t this the art you spoke of.”

Seated, Chairman Țepeș tilted his head, carefully holding his fork and knife.

“Loss of the body, screams of pain, all the elements of art you spoke of are here.”

“No, it’s d-different! It’s different!”

“What is different?”

There was only one difference. The victim and the perpetrator had swapped places.

“There is nothing different.”

Chairman Țepeș smiled as he said it.

The red-haired girl wasn’t holding a fork or knife. She made her ten sharp fingernails gleam like blades with both hands, as if they were her fork and knife.

“Hehe, Ilya. It seems we must mind our table manners a bit more.”

“Uu! But it tastes better when I eat like this!”

“Chairman, how would you like the first course?”

“Hm, let’s see.”

At the approaching chef’s words, Chairman Țepeș smiled as if delighted.

“Tonight’s course, I feel like savoring it more leisurely, for longer.”

“As you wish, we will prepare a course that can keep him alive as long as possible.”

“Ah, I look forward to it.”

“As an appetizer, we will prepare the kidneys and pancreas, and the foreleg with a suitable amount of flesh.”

“!”

At those words, the Ripper’s face turned paler than ever, like those victims who had died at his hands.

“By the way, may I make a request.”

“Please speak, Chairman.”

“Please leave his tongue until the very end. I would like to crown the finale with it, together with the heart.”

“As you command.”

“H-hiiik…! W-wait! I was wrong! F-forgive me!”

Bound on the operating table, the Ripper thrashed in terror, as if confessing his sins too late.

“Forgive you?”

Watching him, Chairman Țepeș tilted his head.

“There is nothing to forgive. No matter how horrible and talentless an artist you are, I will respect it in my own way. Now, shall we begin.”

“W-wait, kkeuaaaak!”

In his own way.

Even as Solomon fought back nausea, he was feeling an indescribable emotion at the fact that the villain before him was receiving the price for what he had done.

The night of cooking and art was deepening.

“I express my gratitude, Mr. Solomon.”

The most nauseating meal in the world came to an end, with a sinful man’s heart and tongue being digested in someone’s stomach.

“Calling someone in just to make them watch that, so distasteful.”

Solomon sneered, deliberately cold.

Chairman Țepeș answered with a gentle smile.

“Oh, I apologize for involving you against your wishes. However, you carried out the contract splendidly, and you have the right to enjoy a reward worthy of it.”

“A reward.”

“Watching evil suffer brings a righteous pleasure in its own way. Isn’t that so?”

“……”

Solomon didn’t answer.

“Ah, of course, that isn’t all. As promised, along with relinquishing the heart, a fitting reward awaits you as a professional who has completed a contract for our Wallachia Co.”

District 1 of Guild City, Megacorp Street. The reward given for completing a contract for that colossal guild.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“Let’s see. Your hotel membership rank has just risen to Silver, hasn’t it.”

“…Yeah.”

Setting aside how the man in front of him knew that, Solomon didn’t deny it.

“Through our Wallachia Co’s letter of recommendation, we will raise your hotel membership rank to Gold.”

“Why go that far?”

At that, Solomon narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, from Gold membership onward, many things change. But the real point lies elsewhere.”

“Then?”

“I want you to go beyond that. I want you to become the hotel’s VVIP.”

“Why?”

Hotel Snark’s VVIP. At those words, Solomon asked again.

“Have you ever seen the hotel’s VVIPs?”

“A few.”

Unthinkingly, the image of the Faceless One came to mind.

A powerhouse who was able to drive a blade into the Black Museum’s curator, Beelzebub’s back.

And also Evangelist Gunther, the long-term guest of Room 1004 he’d seen at the Deadlock Guild before.

“They are the ones who, in a sense, fit the phrase ‘this city’s cleaners.’”

Chairman Țepeș continued without losing his relaxed smile.

Even an organization like ours cannot lay a hand on them lightly. They are truly the hotel’s strongest monsters.”

The hotel’s strongest monsters, whom even the Black Museum cannot touch lightly.

“That is your only way to resist irresistible evil, Mr. Solomon.”

In other words, becoming that kind of monster was Solomon’s only way to resist the beings before him.

The hotel’s VVIP is proof of that strength.

That was why Solomon understood it even less.

“Why are you looking out for me that much?”

“As I said, it is the aesthetics of evil. As an artist, you could call it a kind of stubbornness.”

Chairman Țepeș smiled as if pleased.

“Resisting irresistible evil is not art. It is only meaningless violence and sadism.”

As he said that, Țepeș pointed at the Ripper’s corpse bound to the surgical frame.

“Rather, evil is something that exists only within meaningful resistance.”

The Ripper’s acts were irresistible evil committed against those who could not resist. And Țepeș never called that art.

“A being with pride, with honor, with something worth protecting, within a will forged harder than ever.”

Chairman Țepeș said, twisting the corner of his mouth.

“In the instant that everything he wanted to protect, cherished, and believed he could resist for is shattered.”

Preaching the most twisted evil he clung to.

“The aesthetics of evil bloom like a flower only in that instant.”

“So you’re telling me to resist properly.”

Hearing that, Solomon let out a hollow laugh.

Chairman Țepeș answered with a smile as well.

“Exactly, Mr. Solomon.”

“Welcome, Mr. Solomon.”

That dawn, Solomon returned to Hotel Snark.

As if he’d been waiting, the ghost hotelier spoke to him.

“Congratulations, Mr. Solomon. You have safely completed the contract for the colossal guild.”

“…Yeah.”

“Wallachia Co has sent an evaluation report praising your performance on the contract, Mr. Solomon.”

“Accordingly, your membership rank has been specially upgraded from Silver to Gold.”

“Your room has also been upgraded from Room 244 to Room 319.”

“Wow, I’m so grateful I could cry.”

“In addition, under Gold membership, a special service will be provided to you immediately, Mr. Solomon.”

“A service.”

To Solomon, who tilted his head, the ghost hotelier bowed and answered.

“Yes. The hotel tailor is waiting.”