Takakai didn't speak for long.
About the first timeline—the one only he remembered—he only mentioned fragments:
How he and Maki had explored together.How they'd been trapped in a third-floor room.How Maki had died to the frozen corpse.
He didn't mention her taking a bullet for him.
But even the abbreviated version made Maki's expression shift.
"Being dragged into a room by some black hand… hard to imagine. And in the end, I was killed by my own room's corpse? That freezer guy had skills, huh…"
She inhaled deeply, unsure how to react.
After all, according to Takakai, he'd watched her die. Unbelievable as it sounded, her worldview had already been shattered enough to accept it.
But…
How hopeless must that have been? Everyone dead, Auntie turned into an unkillable monster, and me dying first. How did he endure that alone? How did he find the clock and rewind time?
"Takakai… no, if you don't mind, can I call you Kai-kun?"
Maki's voice softened.
"Sure, as long as you don't call me 'Tall Nut' or something."
Takakai nodded, only for Maki to swat his hand playfully.
"Call me Maki."
Her amber-purple eyes glimmered.
"If we've fought side by side, then closer terms are fine. Just 'Maki' is okay, Kai-kun."
She stood, patted his shoulder, and turned as Kaguya entered.
"Time for the next round of exploration."
Kaguya's tone was flat—as if she hadn't been eavesdropping outside the door.
(Not out of pettiness, but suspicion. After reading the second rule sheet, she'd begun questioning Takakai's nature. The red-and-white stains on him… could he be a corpse pretending to be alive?
But her observations today suggested otherwise.)
Then Takakai dropped a bombshell:
"Kaguya, there's something I should mention. I think… in this apartment, I'm playing a special 'role.' Specifically, I might be the corpse in Room 204."
Kaguya's composure almost cracked.
Into the Depths
Minutes later, Takakai stood in the ankle-deep water beneath the kitchen hole, rope tied around his waist.
His shoes were soaked again. (He'd considered going barefoot but feared hidden nails.)
"Be careful."
Maki's voice was firm.
Kaguya double-checked the makeshift rope—woven from bedsheets—anchored upstairs.
This time, only Takakai would descend.
The others had roles:
Maki and Kaguya: Guard the hole and kitchen door.Sun Dajun: Build a crude ladder from salvaged furniture.Green : Stand by to rewind time if needed.
The decision stemmed from the second rule sheet's warnings:
Multiple explorers risked total wipeouts if one was compromised.Darkness was mandatory—only Takakai, Kaguya, and Maki could function under those conditions.
"30 minutes. We'll tug the rope once. You respond, then we wait 10 more minutes. If you don't return or reply, we rewind immediately."
Kaguya's instructions were clinical.
"First run is yours. If successful, I go next, then Maki. 40-minute cycles to conserve stamina. So don't push yourself—you're the vanguard."
Takakai gave Maki a cheesy peace sign, then stepped forward.
Into the living room's gloom.
The offering table hadn't changed.
But now, Takakai could make out the rotted statue upon it:
A gentle-faced woman cradling a child.
Guanyin? The Child-Giving Goddess?
(He wasn't religious, but the lotus pedestal and elongated ears matched Buddhist iconography.)
Did the tenants pray for a child?
He left the statue untouched and turned toward the hallway.
As he did, his peripheral vision caught a slumped figure on the sofa.
Ignore it.
The rules were clear: Don't acknowledge what you see in the dark.
The kitchen's light faded behind him.
Total darkness.
Then—a man's voice from the living room:
["Raise sons, not daughters. Daughters bring suffering. I've suffered enough. Goddess, bless me with a boy—don't let my family line die!"]
A child wailed. A woman sobbed.
Takaki kept walking.
Splash—splash—
His footsteps through the water drowned out the sounds.
Until—
Splash—splash—
A second set of footsteps joined his.
Someone was following him.
Ten steps behind.
Nine.
Eight.
The water rippled against his calves.
The wall under his fingers felt slimy with moss.
The follower closed in—one step away.
Then—
Silence.
The second set of footsteps vanished.
Until a warm breath brushed Takakai's neck.