Takakai stood up from the sofa.
He looked around—at this shabby, long-abandoned little living room.
Then, he lowered his gaze to the words scrawled across his own hands.
[I am alone.]
[I must find my teammate, Shinomiya Kaguya.]
[I must find Hayasaka Ai, who disappeared in the Shirasawa Elementary dungeon. I have less than four days.]
[I investigated the bedroom where I first woke up. (Scratched out)]
[I may have woken up here more than once.]
The handwriting was unmistakably his own.
Yet that certainty only deepened his confusion.
Bedroom?
What bedroom?
In his memory, he had woken up right here—in this ruined little living room.
In fact, as far as he recalled, he had just entered the dungeon. He had just woken up. Everything was still at the beginning. He hadn't even finished assessing his surroundings.
But the notes on his hands told a different story.
They implied he had been here for some time. That he had already explored—and that his explorations had taken place somewhere other than where he'd just woken up.
Did I forget?
Is this some kind of mental corruption? A memory-altering mechanic in this dungeon?
Or… are these words themselves the deception? Am I truly just arriving, and this dungeon is tricking me into thinking I've been here longer?
Takakai took a slow, deep breath.
First, he could confirm one thing: this wasn't conventional mental corruption.
His willpower—reinforced by countless blessings—far surpassed even most Crimson Moon players. If his mind had been tampered with, he would have noticed. A headache, dizziness, something. But there was nothing.
Unless the corruption was too weak to affect him… but that didn't explain the inconsistencies.
If not mental corruption, then what?
Frowning, Takakai stood fully and scanned the room.
The living room was dim, windowless. Four doors—one on each wall—led to unknown destinations. Three sofas (one large, two small) surrounded a low table. A cold fireplace sat nearby, alongside a small cabinet cluttered with miscellaneous items.
On the table in front of him lay a yellowed sheet of paper.
[Admission Notice]
To Mr. Takakai,
Congratulations.
Your child has been selected for enrollment at Shirasawa Elementary.
This experimental school, established by the Imperial Army, will mold your child into a pillar of the Empire's future.
Tuition is fully waived. You will bear no costs. We will nurture your child into a true warrior and hero, one who will glorify the Empire.
Please report to the school between 9:00 AM and 11:30 AM on ■/■. Failure to appear will be interpreted as doubt toward the Empire's generosity—and your loyalty will be reassessed by the Army accordingly.
—The Army
The notice was well-made, but age had worn it down. Takakai took a moment to decipher the faded text.
Unlike Fujioka Middle School, which conducted its experiments in secret… Early Riser Elementary was blatant about its purpose.
Movement flickered in his peripheral vision.
Yoshitaka stepped through a door, cautiously surveying the room.
Takakai folded the notice and turned toward the cabinet.
Inside were dishes, teacups, and what looked like fruit baskets.
Next, he approached the fireplace—long extinguished, nothing but pale ashes within.
Or so it seemed.
He crouched, peering deeper inside.
There, carved into the brick, was a faint inscription:
[You see them, so they exist.]
The marks were shallow, the letters uneven. The soot around them suggested the carving had been made after the fireplace fell into disuse—and that no fire had burned since.
This isn't my handwriting.
Then whose is it?
"Find anything? Hurry up—who knows when that thing will show up."
Yoshitaka's nervous voice came from beside him.
"Some traces. Not sure who left them."
Takakai pulled back from the fireplace, glancing at—
—at empty space.
There was no one there.
Had anyone been there at all?
In his memory, he had been completely alone this whole time.
He pulled out a pen (when had he picked that up?) and stared at the words on his hand:
[I am (alone).]
He circled "alone," reinforcing the reminder.
Even though his memories held no inconsistencies—even though he had been alone, with no anomalies—he couldn't ignore the dissonance.
Because it was too smooth.
Why have I encountered no rules? No threats?
Why does everything feel… safe?
He wouldn't have questioned it.
Not if he hadn't seen the writing on his hands.
And not if he hadn't noticed the pen he couldn't remember acquiring.
The doubts swirled, unimpeded. Yet no matter how he searched, he found nothing overtly wrong.
"What's wrong, Takakai? Thinking about your girlfriend? Don't worry—we'll make it back."
Yoshitaka clapped him on the shoulder, grinning.
"I just hope Kurika's adjusting well to her new school…"
Takakai sighed from the sofa, clutching the admission notice, his face drawn with exhaustion.
"Let's find Kaguya first. This place feels… off."
Takakai shrugged off Yoshitaka's hand and headed for the door beside the fireplace.
Beyond it stretched a wide hallway.
Nothing unusual.
No sense of danger.
It felt safe. So safe that part of him wanted to wander freely, to explore without caution.
But another part—something deeper, more instinctive—screamed at him to move faster.
Don't be fooled.
Click—
He shut the door behind him and advanced down the hall.
Yoshitaka and Takakai followed, flanking him.
Takakai, bringing up the rear, locked the door—as if suddenly afraid of the living room they'd left behind.
Tap… Tap…
Somewhere in the darkness, footsteps drew closer.
But Takakai was already opening the next door—and there, standing in a grand hall, poised and alert, was Shinomiya Kaguya.
Click—
The door closed again.
In the hallway's mirror, Takakai's reflection walked forward, vanishing into the encroaching dark.
...
...
...
Swoosh— Swoosh—
The rain continued its endless drumming.
Kumami lit a cigarette, took a long drag, and exhaled toward the window before slumping back into her seat.
"Boss, you seem pissed."
The young man behind the bar—this place being the Loafing Guild's unofficial hideout—didn't miss her mood.
"You know why. That kid… what the hell is he thinking?"
She grabbed a glass of flaming liquor and downed it in one go, fire and all.
"But you told him to enter at dusk. That's, like, the second-worst time to go in—especially for Shirasawa Elementary. Were you trying to screw him over?"
"If he were some amateur, sure. But Shirasawa's opening phase won't kill him. Scare him? Maybe. Hurt him? Probably. But he'll live."
She shook her head, voice low.
"I needed him to go in when it was dangerous. He had to see the threat. Had to feel it."
"If he'd gone in during the day? That's the real trap. It's 'safer'—but if you start exploring Shirasawa when it's 'safe'… you might never leave."
"That place… you don't understand until you've been there."
Her words dissolved into the rain.
And now, in that dim little bedroom—
Takakai opened his eyes and sat up.
He straightened the disheveled blankets, pausing as a faint rustling came from beneath the bed.
"Something wrong?"
Kaguya's voice.
"No. Must've imagined it."
He glanced around the room.
Yoshitaka at the computer. Takakai organizing the bookshelf. Miyazawa Hana wandering curiously. Kaguya in front of him.
And by the door—another Takakai, peering outside.
Seven of them, ready to move.
As he stepped out, his hand brushed the doorframe—and he saw the writing again.
[I am (alone).]
Did I… write this?
But I am alone. So why—
His frown deepened.