The exploration of the first floor had to be temporarily suspended.
The reason was simple—once the floorboard was lifted, everyone present could clearly see the pale-faced figures standing below, their heads tilted upward as they stared back.
Those things stood silently in the kitchen downstairs. Even after several hours, they still hadn't disappeared.
Further investigation of the first floor had to be postponed, forcing the group to halt their progress and address the discord within their team.
After all, the reason they had been plunged into such danger and left with lingering threats was largely due to one disobedient fool.
"Please… I beg you… I was just too scared, I made a mistake, I was just too terrified… Don't do this…"
Green trembled as he pleaded, his voice weak and desperate. But Kaguya merely stared at him with an icy expression. Beside her, Sun Dajun—his face conflicted—handed the dismantled lock from Room 209 to Maki before leaving the room, unwilling to witness what came next.
In this cursed apartment, losing one's door lock meant something far worse than inconvenience.
Green understood this perfectly.
He also knew exactly how much his earlier actions had betrayed Kaguya and the others.
A nearly 30-year-old lowlife who had accomplished nothing in life, Green had just enough street smarts to survive but not enough to rise above his station. He knew he was trash, which was why he clung to those stronger than him. But when push came to shove, he lacked the resolve to do what was necessary. So, when the situation turned dire, he panicked—refusing to turn the clock and even attempting to flee. And now, he faced the consequences.
It was just like when he was younger, finally managing to climb to a low-ranking position in a gang, only to steal a portion of the protection money he was supposed to hand over. He knew he would've gotten a cut if he'd just followed orders, but the sight of the cash was too tempting. The beating that followed nearly killed him, and if not for an old friend stepping in, he might not have survived.
After that, Green never climbed back up. He thought he had learned his lesson—but here he was, faced with another life-or-death moment, and once again, he made the wrong choice. A worse one.
Now, the lockpick he had been so proud of was confiscated. The intimidating knife he carried now belonged to Kaguya.
And the strength he had relied on? Crushed effortlessly by Kaguya's absurd, anime-esque "muscle queen" dominance.
In this moment, Green knelt pathetically on the ground, not even daring to resist.
"I thought you were at least smart enough to know how to survive. But it seems your 'cleverness' is just petty cunning—useless when it matters most. Disappointing."
Kaguya twirled the knife in her hand, her gaze so cold it could freeze bone.
"I'm sorry, I—"
Green didn't even dare lift his head as he stammered out another excuse.
"Did I say you could speak?"
Her next words shattered whatever courage he had left, leaving him prostrate on the floor, shaking uncontrollably.
Damn, her aura is terrifying. The so-called "Ice Princess of the Shinomiya" indeed.
Takakai couldn't help but marvel inwardly.
If he hadn't seen it himself, he would never have believed a 17-year-old girl could command such presence.
But considering she was a once-in-a-generation genius raised in the twisted Shinomiya conglomerate, it made sense. Still, watching it in action was… unsettling.
"Takakai-san, though you're not Japanese, you've lived here long enough. So tell me—do you know how Yakuza deal with subordinates who fail their superiors?"
Kaguya suddenly turned to him, her voice smooth but razor-edged.
Why ask me? Because Maki's too soft to play along?
Takakai, who had assumed he was just an observer, blinked in surprise before answering after a moment's thought.
"Cement-filled barrel, then dumped in Tokyo Bay?"
Green nearly fainted on the spot, convinced he was about to be murdered.
"Just kidding. It's finger-cutting, right? The pinky?"
Takakai's follow-up gave Green a brief moment of relief—before the terror set in again.
"Good. Then we'll do that." Kaguya stood, stepping closer to Green. "Green-san, we can't kill you. Dead bodies turn into monsters here. But you've made an unforgivable mistake—one that cost us our trust. So now, you have two choices."
She loomed over him, her voice dropping to something lethally quiet.
"One: You stay in your room alone. We'll break the lock so you can't pick it. You either remain inside or break the door down yourself—no one will fix it for you."
A pause. Then—
"Two: You prove you won't fail again. Words mean nothing. So—give me your left hand. Cut off your pinky. If you can do it without screaming, I'll believe you still have some spine. And maybe, just maybe, you'll still be worth using."
Maki, knowing what was coming, frowned and left the room, following Sun Dajun's example.
Takakai, however—being the kind of guy who browsed certain forums for specific content—found himself mildly disappointed he didn't have popcorn. Not that he was a sadist or anything (he strictly preferred wholesome material, thank you very much), but after Green's idiocy nearly got them all killed, seeing him suffer was… satisfying.
What happened next didn't need elaboration.
Green, realizing there was no third option, extended his left hand with a deathly pale face.
The knife flashed down.
A clean cut.
His pinky hit the floor.
Of course, despite his efforts, pain forced a scream from his throat—
Only for Kaguya to kick him in the neck with enough force to nearly crack bone, silencing him instantly.
"Bandages and iodine are there. Patch yourself up. We move out in an hour. This time, you'll guard the kitchen door. If another clock needs turning, you'd better not disappoint me again."
With that, she left, stepping out of Room 206's living room.
Takakai, not particularly fond of the smell of blood or Green's whimpering, followed.
"She really did it… Of course she would."
Maki sighed, reading Kaguya's expression as she emerged.
"Maki, are you sure your injury's okay?" Takakai asked again, receiving the same "I'm fine" as before.
Sun Dajun, who had just exited the bathroom (likely after relieving some stress, though his face remained grim), hesitated before whispering to Takakai:
"So… the foreigner really lost a finger?"
"Yep. After pulling that kind of stunt, letting him off easy would've been stupid."
Takakai had no moral qualms about it. If anything, he thought one finger was too lenient.
"How did it come to this…? We were all just trying to survive…" Sun Dajun sighed deeply, his expression conflicted.
"Some people don't respond to reason. Guys like Green only learn when it hurts."
Takakai figured Sun Dajun needed the explanation—the man's skills (repairing circuits, locks, basic carpentry) were too valuable to let him stew in unease.
"I get it. Just… why do people make things harder for themselves?"
Sun Dajun shook his head and walked away.
An hour later, the blood had been cleaned. The severed finger—for safety reasons—was returned to Green's room. The lock wouldn't be reinstalled until after the next exploration, ensuring he understood: One more mistake, and you're dead.
Creak—
The floorboard lifted again.
Takakai looked down.
The pale faces still stared up.
"They're still there."
He turned to Maki, who stood guard in the kitchen.
"Takakai-san, if they're still there, maybe we should—"
Maki hesitated. Despite their earlier planning, she couldn't help but worry.
"I know. But this is our best shot. Besides…" He smirked at Green, who stood slumped by the kitchen door, his left hand bandaged. "Our dear Green-san needs to redeem himself, doesn't he? Can't deny him the opportunity."
With that, Takakai turned back to the hole in the floor.
Sending him down again wasn't the original plan—Maki or Kaguya should've gone.
But thanks to Green, Maki was injured, and Kaguya couldn't trust him unsupervised. Sun Dajun was, well… monster bait.
So, once again, it fell to Takakai.
"Relax. We went over this. The first floor's dangerous, but if we stick to the plan, it should be fine. No time to waste, right?"
One last smile at Maki—
Then he tugged the rope around his waist, closed his eyes, and jumped.
Splash.
The sound of hitting water.
No collision with any of the figures below.
They were there, yet untouchable—phantoms.
Eyes still shut, Takakai felt his way along the wall, moving toward the kitchen door.
Creak.
It opened on its own before he even touched it.
No attack came.
The living room. The hallway.
Silence, save for his breathing and the slosh of water.
Just as they'd theorized.
How… considerate.
Takakai couldn't help but think wryly.