The 7th Floor
At first glance, the 7th floor of the school building was no different from the 5th—equally dark, equally dilapidated.
Peeling wallpaper, shattered floor tiles, scattered garbage, broken desks and chairs, and discarded plastic bags littered the ground. The place looked like it had been abandoned for decades.
Takakai quickly located the floor map and confirmed their position.
"Behind us is the teachers' office. Ahead is the chemistry lab. To the right is the music room, where we came from. Left leads to the art room. Further ahead are the elevator and Classes 23, 24, and 1 of the third-year section. Though honestly, this floor plan is even more abstract than the 5th floor's. Why are the chemistry lab, music room, and art room crammed together like this? And does the home economics room share a waste disposal room with the chemistry lab? What the hell is that disconnected room with no hallway access?"
Takakai couldn't help but mutter complaints as he studied the twisted diagram. The four girls beside him shared his thoughts but didn't dare voice them.
No normal school building would ever look like this.
Though Takakai had warned them earlier that "the terrain here is completely distorted," actually experiencing the illogical layout—and seeing this nightmare of a map—still left the girls deeply unsettled.
"W-why did you bring us here?! Is this… even the real world anymore?!"
Shinda Ai, the girl brought along by Shigeno Rika, finally snapped, raising her voice at Takakai.
"He didn't do this."
Miko spoke up before Takakai could respond.
"Huh? N-not him? Then who did?! And he just said we have to 'help him complete the mission'—"
Shinda faltered, confused by Miko's defense.
"Takakai-san needs us to obey him so we don't act recklessly in this dangerous place. That's the only way we'll survive—and the only way we won't become a burden to him. I know why we're here. All of you played that ritual, didn't you? The 'making friends' game. That's what dragged us in."
Miko's calm words made Shinda's face pale.
The mention of Alice's Game triggered recognition—Shinda had felt a vague familiarity when hearing the broadcast and reading the rule sheet earlier. Now, it clicked.
Beside her, Shigeno Rika's expression also shifted. Ogawa Kyoko, meanwhile, looked ready to collapse. She had been one of the main proponents of the ritual, even convincing several classmates to join. And now, everyone who played it with her was trapped here.
"Enough chatter."
Takakai coughed lightly and moved forward.
The girls immediately fell silent, trailing closely behind him. Though they still didn't fully grasp the situation, Takakai's overwhelming presence—cold, ruthless, but undeniably powerful—kept them in line even without explicit orders.
Miko's Plea
"Takakai-san… I'm sorry. For dragging you into this. And… about Yuuka-san. I understand why you did it. I'll do my best to help you."
Miko stepped closer, her voice barely above a whisper.
Takakai glanced down.
The girl was tense, her golden eyes flickering with poorly concealed fear.
She's terrified of me.
Unlike the first loop, where she had trusted him instinctively, this Miko saw him as a monster—a man who had callously severed a classmate's arm, then nonchalantly chopped off his own hand to demonstrate his regeneration.
Yet even so, she recognized his methods were the only way to keep most of them alive.
A group of ordinary high school girls, raised in peacetime, stood no chance in a place like this. Takakai's brutality, as horrifying as it seemed, was their best hope for survival.
So she swallowed her fear and approached him, hoping to earn his favor. After all, among all the students, only she—with her unique vision—held any real value to him. If she could prove useful, maybe he'd be more inclined to protect the others.
Thwack!
"Ow—"
Takakai flicked her forehead.
"Save the flattery. I brought you four because you're marginally useful. Focus on observing our surroundings. The rest isn't your concern."
He saw right through her.
Still, he found the shift in her behavior intriguing.
In the first loop, with the class overrun by horrors, Miko had been too busy surviving to think about anyone else. Now, with the students mostly safe, she was trying to play protector—volunteering herself as a liaison to keep them under Takakai's guard.
Human psychology really is fascinating.
(Though he'd appreciate it more if the catalyst hadn't been being turned into a living doll. That shit hurt.)
The Twisted Hallway
The group advanced through a narrow, unnervingly slanted corridor.
Shigeno Rika, assigned by Takakai to watch their flanks, proved surprisingly diligent. She spotted several lurking threats—students with hollowed-out chests, others with flayed skin—before they could get close.
But some dangers slipped past even her.
A Duck-Masked Teacher approached undetected—until Miko, sensing its malice, turned just in time.
Takakai didn't hesitate.
One swing of his cleaver sent the duck head rolling out a window. Another severed its limbs. Thanks to the blade's supernatural edge—specifically lethal to Fujisaka's horrors—the creature was reduced to a twitching torso, needing at least a day to regenerate.
The girls were horrified.
Watching the dismembered teacher still squirming shattered what little composure they had left.
Takakai, however, felt a vicious satisfaction.
After the first loop's helplessness, dominating these monsters was exhilarating.
(Though he did wonder if wielding this cleaver would attract Alice's attention. Then again, she was a problem he'd have to face eventually.)
The Stain-Covered Path
The further they went, the more the walls and floor darkened—stained with what looked like footprints, splattered fluids, and drag marks.
Miko's breath hitched.
Her vision overlapped with the past.
Students—so many students—ran screaming down this hall, only to collapse, their bodies failing as skin sloughed off or chemicals ate through their flesh.
No one stopped them.
Why bother? They'd die on their own after a few steps.
Then someone would stroll over, mutter "Sorry for the trouble," and haul the corpse away.
This had happened countless times.
So many that Miko now saw the corridor packed with corpses—all reaching for her, pleading silently.
So many that even though the hall was empty, she felt like she was wading through a sea of bodies, each step crushing the air from her lungs.
Thud.
A large hand landed on her shoulder.
The vision faded.
Miko looked up to see Takakai's ram-masked face, his gaze steady through the eyeholes.
"Struggling?"
He'd sensed the oppressive aura too, though not as vividly as her. Still, after the Alice incident, he wasn't taking chances with Miko's stability.
"Is this… really a school? It feels more like… a slaughterhouse."
Miko took a shaky breath.
"All dungeons are like this—twisted hellscapes drowning in malice. But even here, traces of good persist. Our job is to not let the darkness crush us."
Takakai adjusted the badge on his chest, his tone uncharacteristically solemn.
"...Can we really leave this place?"
Miko's voice was small, her golden eyes dimming.
"Who knows? But things can't get much worse, so might as well try."
Takakai shrugged and kept walking.
Behind them, Shigeno Rika watched thoughtfully.
He treats Yotsuya-san differently.
Though Miko might not realize it, Takakai saw her as a peer—someone worth guiding. The rest of them? Just "barely useful baggage."
Stick close to Yotsuya-san. She might be our real lifeline.
The End of the Hall
At last, they reached the junction—where the chemistry lab and art supply room stood.
Ding-dong—
A bell chimed, drowning out their footsteps.
Lights flickered on.
And in Miko's eyes, phantasmal trunks tipped with severed heads emerged from the walls.
We can't stay in the hallway. We have to get into a room—
The closest one was…
The art room!