The two-day, one-night hot spring trip had been an immensely enjoyable experience for Takakai.
The flames that Chika had stoked for days had finally been thoroughly quenched, and his relationships with both Chika and Maki had deepened further. Everything seemed to be at its most blissful stage—so much so that Takakai could describe it with the word "happiness."
So much so that when he returned home to his quiet, lonely little apartment, he felt oddly out of place, as if something were missing.
I really wish I could keep spending time with Maki and Chika...
Sighing, Takakai sat up from the couch and picked up a printed map from the table.
This was, of course, the rough layout of [Fujika Middle School].
According to reports, the interior of the school changed with each game session, with structures warping in ways that defied logic. Thus, the only permanent reference was this crude overview.
From it, Takakai could identify the basic features of the school buildings, dormitories, swimming pool, and sports fields. For example, the main school building had three entrances, one of which connected to the dormitory and was obscured by greenery. The sports field was divided into a basketball court and a soccer field, with the dormitory's main entrance leading to the basketball court. The swimming pool was an isolated structure on the soccer field side, and there was a walking path encircling the entire campus.
Though the likelihood of Takakai being dragged into [School Horror Stories], the pseudo-Scarlet Moon-tier dungeon, was currently low—and even if he were, there was no guarantee he'd start in the [Fujika Middle School] area—he had already gathered so much intel that he figured he might as well finish reviewing it.
"Wouldn't it be awful if reading all this is what gets me pulled into the dungeon?"
He couldn't help but mutter to himself.
Ding-dong.
The doorbell rang.
Who could that be at this hour?
Frowning, Takakai stood and peeked through the window first, spotting Yotsuya Miko before heading to the door to let her in.
Her visit wasn't entirely unexpected—he had assumed she'd seek him out eventually.
But he'd thought it would take longer.
The apparitions that appeared every night were different from the monsters in Mieruko-chan's original story. These things were oblivious, unresponsive even when observed, meaning the psychological burden on Miko was far lighter than in the source material. She could adapt to their presence through sheer willpower alone.
Yet here she was, urgently seeking help.
Something must have changed, forcing her to reach out.
Not one to jump to conclusions, Takakai led her to the living room, waiting for her to explain.
But something felt... off.
A strange, indescribable dissonance.
As if Miko hadn't entered alone—as if something had followed her in.
The sensation was deeply unsettling, yet Takakai found himself dismissing it almost immediately.
Why am I not more concerned about this?
"Yotsuya-san, you're saying some of your classmates are performing some kind of occult ritual?"
In the living room, Takakai studied the visibly exhausted girl across from him.
"Yes... I don't know how to explain it, but it's like everyone's being manipulated. They've stopped thinking about consequences, diving headfirst into things without considering the risks. It's terrifying. So many classmates are gone, but no one notices—it's like they've been erased from everyone's memories. Even I can't remember their names anymore..."
The words spilled out in a rush, as if a dam had broken.
It was odd.
She barely knew this man—this was only their second real conversation. Yet she trusted him instinctively, as if they shared some unspoken understanding.
Maybe this was what "safety" felt like.
Unlike others who would dismiss her fears as stress or coincidence, Takakai listened seriously, treating her words as legitimate warnings.
"That does sound bad. Do you know the name of the ritual?"
Takakai's expression darkened. From Miko's description, this was either the work of a player using a grudge item at her school—or, worse, the manifestation of a dungeon's power in the real world. The latter possibility filled him with dread.
Could it really be happening?
His gaze dropped to the black watch locked around his wrist.
I identified the threat and took precautions to minimize risks.
So now the watch is throwing the problem straight at me?
Are you fucking kidding me?!
"Yes. It's called the [Alice Game]."
Miko's next words froze Takakai's blood.
So it's true.
He exhaled slowly.
"Takakai-san... do you know what's happening?"
Miko watched him cautiously.
"Yeah. I do."
His nod was heavy. At the same time, a new wariness rose within him.
Dungeon manifestations warped perception. By all accounts, Miko shouldn't remember the anomalies at her school.
Yet not only had she noticed the missing students—she'd realized her own memory gaps and sought outside help. This far exceeded the three-to-four-hour memory suppression Kaguya had tested.
Which means this world's Yotsuya Miko has perception strong enough to break through a dungeon's cognitive interference.
And she just happened to come to me today, the day I returned, to share this information...
And I already felt something was off earlier...
From the corner of his eye, a girl in a sailor uniform—identical to Miko's but strangely dirtied—passed by the hallway outside the living room.
Takakai's Blessing flared violently.
Every hair on his body stood on end. His skin prickled, his nerves screaming with the instinctual terror of imminent death.
Somethingdidcome in.
When he'd opened the door for Miko, something had followed her inside.
Takakai stood, staring at the half-open living room door and the hallway beyond.
The corridor was now pitch-black beyond the reach of the living room light—unnaturally so.
Was it always this dark?
And that figure just now... that was practically a blatant announcement of its presence.
"Takakai-san?"
Noticing his sudden tension, Miko followed his gaze to the door—and the encroaching darkness in the hallway.
Just like the restroom from her dream.
She shuddered, fear plain on her face.
"Come here. Stay away from there."
After using his Blessing to confirm Miko's condition, Takakai motioned for her to approach.
Trembling, she crept closer, gripping his sleeve as she stared at the door. Though nothing visibly lurked there yet, to her, it was already a den of horrors.
Being targeted by a dungeon's power at home, right after a vacation, was the last thing Takakai wanted. But this level of anomaly wasn't enough to shake him. If anything, it snapped him back into the hyper-focused state he adopted during dungeon runs.
First, check if communications still work.
He texted Maki, asking if she wanted to grab dinner.
Two minutes later, a reply came: "Sure! Any preferences? I can book a place."
Seems normal.
But Takakai had simultaneously reached out through their mental link.
[Did you get my text just now?]
[Huh? What text? I didn't get anything.]
Good. Comms are cut, and something's impersonating us via text.
Takakai exhaled, deleting the fake messages without reading them. Immediately, his phone rang—Maki's name flashing on screen.
He crushed the device in his palm, dumping the fragments in the trash.
Beside him, Miko's phone buzzed—her mother calling.
"Don't answer."
Takakai pressed her hand down.
"From now on, until we're sure we're safe, don't answer any calls—no matter who it is. Same for messages. Sometimes, just seeing the wrong thing can trigger danger."
He hung up for her and powered off the phone.
Miko didn't protest. Seeing Takakai destroy his own phone without hesitation drove the point home—whatever was calling or texting now wasn't human.
"What... do we do?"
Her voice trembled.
No tears, no panic, no collapsing in terror—for a newcomer, that was commendable. But if this really was the [Alice Game], even the most composed rookie wouldn't stand a chance.
"Stay calm. Listen to me. Can you do that?"
Gripping her shoulders, Takakai guided her backward, away from the door.
The rules governing dungeon manifestations in the real world were a mystery.
But one thing was certain: the killing conditions hadn't been met yet. Otherwise, that girl wouldn't have just made a cameo appearance.
We need to get out.
His eyes darted to the window—barred, but breakable with his strength.
Outside, the sunset-lit street was visible.
People walked past.
And standing in a perfect row, backs turned to the window, were students in uniforms.
The malice radiating from them made the choice clear: No going out that way.
[Takakai-kun, status update?]
Maki's voice echoed in his mind.
[Bad. There's a line of those things outside the window, and at least one inside. Did you get any calls from me? I just destroyed my phone—no way I'm calling anyone now.]
He kept his senses sharp as he replied.
[You called a lot. I didn't answer. I already warned Kaguya and Fujiwara—they know not to pick up.]
Reliable as ever, Maki had caught on immediately after his earlier question and alerted the others.
[Good. Contact Kogawa and Aoyama. Tell them I'm under attack by the [Fujika Middle School] anomaly from [School Horror Stories]. They might have ideas. Be careful—if you see students standing motionless with their backs to you, use your Blessing to check. If it's an anomaly, get out.]
As he relayed instructions, the environment shifted.
Click.
The TV turned on by itself.
Static filled the screen before resolving into a live broadcast—a reporter standing in a classroom, smiling at the camera.
Behind her, pale-faced students grinned in unison.
Their heads tilted slightly, their eyes locking onto Takakai and Miko.
A silent, synchronized greeting.
Interlude 2-32: The Anomaly Walks Among Us
[Stepped on the kitty~ Stepped on the kitty~?]
[Stepped on the napping kitty~?]
A child's singing voice spilled from the TV.
Accompanied by the sound of many feet skipping joyfully.
No visuals—because after the reporter segment, Takakai had immediately hurled the coffee table at the screen, smashing it to pieces.
A futile effort. Even without the display, the speakers continued blaring distorted, unsettling noises.
[The kitty ran away~ The kitty ran away~]
The cheerful tune warped into shrill static.
The room's temperature plummeted to near-freezing.
Outside the window, the row of figures stood unmoving.
The hallway beyond the living room door was swallowed by unnatural darkness.
All communications were dead—only the mental link with Maki remained.
Takakai and Miko stood frozen in place, trapped between three threats.
What now?
His eyes flicked between the door, the window, and the ruined TV.
Miko clung to his sleeve, paralyzed with fear.
Think.
We're being targeted, but not attacked yet.
If dungeon anomalies always follow rules, then the killing conditions haven't been triggered.
The haunting began after Miko mentioned the [Alice Game]. She must have been marked first, then Takakai by association when he learned of it.
The [Alice Game] operated on specific "game rules," but they weren't in a designated play area like the school buildings. Without those rules, [Alice] herself shouldn't be able to act.
Similarly, the [Big Bad Wolf], bound by the game's violations, wouldn't target them either.
That left anomalies less tied to specific locations—ones that could roam freely under certain conditions.
Takakai stepped forward, righting the overturned coffee table.
From its drawer, he retrieved a candle and lighter, igniting the wick before lifting it slowly.
Miko blinked, confused—until a sound made her turn.
[Shhh—]
The candle snuffed out.
"T-Takakai-san...!"
She nearly collapsed.
"Test successful. You saw it? Where was it?"
Takakai remained calm, though he'd witnessed nothing—just the candle extinguishing abruptly.
She saw something I couldn't.
Her eyes perceive more than mine?
"It... walked past me and blew out the candle."
Her voice was barely audible.
"It just walked past you?"
He needed confirmation.
"Yes..."
She nodded shakily, eyes glued to the floor.
[The Bad Child] was here.
And based on Miko's account, it was either teleporting or had been here all along, invisible until the candle's flame drew it out.
Because I'm not part of the [Alice Game], this candle lacks significance—but Miko can still see [The Bad Child] in this state. She might be key to surviving this.
"Where is it now?"
He scanned the room—normal to his eyes—then looked to Miko.
"..."
She refused to meet his gaze.
He understood.
His own vision showed nothing amiss.
But Miko saw the blood dripping from his body, the rotting arms slung around his waist—skinless, riddled with cuts and squirming maggots.
Half a ribcage hung from his left arm, intestines coiled around his legs, swaying with every movement.
The thing's skull rested on his shoulder, its shattered jaw hooked over his collarbone, broken bone pricking his throat unnoticed.
Thin steel needles pierced its temples, jutting from its eyeballs, veins and sinew straining to keep them in place.
A half-severed tongue lolled out as its three-fingered hand raised a nail-less index finger to its mangled lips.
[Shhh—]
The whisper slithered into Miko's ear.
Don't say it.
If you do, you'll—
Takakai kept analyzing.
If [The Bad Child] is latched onto me but not attacking, it must be bound by rules. The TV's noise hasn't drawn anything, so [Sheep Mother] and [Duck Teacher] likely aren't present.
This isn't a staircase, so [Turtle Teacher] and [Grandpa Bull] are irrelevant.
The darkness outside might hide [Flashlight Sister], but nothing's emerged yet. One rule mentioned lights—day when on, night when off. Maybe the lit living room counts as "day," making the hallway "night."
But if [The Bad Child] is confirmed, then the anomalies here are from [Fujika Middle School].
Yet the girl in the hallway and the students outside don't match any specific entity's description...
From the drawer, Takakai pulled out two flashlights, tossing one to Miko, then retrieved a handgun, holstering it at his waist before loading two spare magazines into his pocket.
"You... have a gun?"
Miko stared.
"Don't expect much. This is more for dealing with idiots."
He checked the safety, then aimed at a student's knee outside the window.
Bang.
The figure crumpled, blood spraying—then staggered back up, its head rotating 180 degrees to stare inside with empty sockets.
...Not human.