The tapping at the window had ceased.
Even the roaring storm seemed to hush into silence.
So quiet.
After the door opened—the only door in this room—all sounds were muffled as if swallowed by something. The world grew still, leaving only one noise behind.
Tap— Tap—
Only the footsteps entering the room remained distinct.
"..."
Takakai closed his eyes.
He didn't move, curled up beneath the single bed, holding his breath as he hid in the darkness.
Tap—
The footsteps crept forward.
First, they paused by the wardrobe. Takakai heard the screech of something dragging across its surface, as if claws were raking the wood.
Then, the sound shifted toward the bookshelf. Pages rustled—not quite like someone flipping through them, but more like a breeze disturbing the paper.
Creak— Creak—
The old wooden door swayed gently.
The footsteps reached the computer desk, then continued toward the bed.
"..."
Takakai remained still.
A moment later, he heard the rustle of bedsheets being adjusted.
What is it doing?
From the faint movements, it seemed the intruder was… fixing the blankets?
As if someone were lying in bed, and it was tucking them in.
What kind of horror game logic is this?
Takakai couldn't make sense of it.
Then, the footsteps retreated, moving back toward the door.
Thud.
The aged door closed with a dull groan.
The footsteps faded, and soon, even the rain returned—its rhythmic patter and the distant rumble of thunder filling the void.
Takakai opened his eyes and crawled out from under the bed.
His blessings confirmed the intruder was gone.
That was… anticlimactic.
He'd expected tricks, traps, something—but the entity hadn't even checked the wardrobe or under the bed. Its only act was straightening the sheets.
Even some Twilight-level remnants put up more of a fight.
His pistol hadn't even been necessary.
Still, caution prevailed.
He inspected the bed first—nothing unusual.
The wardrobe (glanced at, not opened) and bookshelf yielded no clues either.
The thing had truly just… made the bed and left.
So that's it? My first encounter in this dungeon is a glorified maid service?
No mental corruption. No existential dread. Just… tidying up.
Is this the tutorial level, or is the real horror waiting further in?
It felt unreal.
No traces remained—no proof the entity had ever existed.
Outside, the storm had cleared. Daylight seeped through the curtains.
Time distortion? Or does day/night shift based on events?
Returning to the computer, Takakai found it dead—no power. The room's lights were out too.
Electricity cuts when day breaks?
His gaze landed on the door.
Kaguya's missing. Hayasaka's location unknown. No choice but to move forward.
How long have I been gone? My boss probably fired me.
And my sister… who's opening the door for her now?
Enough. Time to go.
Yoshitaka gripped the doorknob, easing it open. Peering out, he turned back to Takakai:
[This time, it's a living room. I'll scout ahead. If it's safe, I'll signal.]
Takakai nodded, waiting until a hand waved through the crack before stepping out.
The living room was empty, dust-choked, long abandoned.
"…Huh?"
He frowned, glancing back at the door.
I left because there were no more clues inside. To find Kaguya and Hayasaka. Right?
But something felt missing. Like his memory had a hole where another event should be.
What just happened?
He couldn't recall. Only the dissonance of knowing he'd forgotten something.
The room's influence?
Testing, he grabbed the doorknob again—
Splash—
Rain lashed the windows once more.
Takakai found himself back beneath the bed, watching a figure seated at the computer.
It stood.
Approached the bed.
Lay down.
Only then did he crawl out, fabric whispering against the floor.
Yoshitaka slept soundly now. Outside, the girl at the window watched.
Takakai retreated, opening the door to the living room—
—only to release the knob in confusion.
The space beyond was derelict, rotting.
What was I doing just now?
His brow furrowed.
Then he noticed the scrawl on his hand, jagged letters in his own handwriting:
[Right beside you.]
Takakai turned.
And saw Yoshitaka's corpse hanging beside him.
…What's next to me?