What was happening? What the hell was happening?!
The current situation had completely exceeded all expectations.
The increasingly violent pounding on the door, the emotionless chanting of "Open the door," the earthquake-like tremors shaking the corridor, and the dizziness spreading uncontrollably through their minds—all these elements intertwined into a chaotic symphony.
Takakai knew full well that panicking in an emergency was pointless.
Flailing around wouldn't make their enemies take pity and slow down. It wouldn't buy them time. Reality had no pause button. The faster one calmed down, the better the chance of finding a solution to escape this predicament.
But what could he do?
The most relevant experience from his past life was standing up for bullied classmates in school, wielding a shit-stained mop against five delinquents, earning him the nickname "Shit-Stick Immortal." No one had taught him how to deal with supernatural phenomena that defied all logic—especially not when the rules list in his hands was two years out of date, its validity unverified, without cheats like X-ray vision or invincibility, and even with two beautiful teammates, they couldn't magically conjure up the necessary information.
To be fair, the rules stated not to respond—who the hell knew these things could communicate through thoughts?! Was the person who wrote these rules an idiot who deliberately omitted critical details, or were the rules of this damn place really evolving at breakneck speed?
"Why... are they knocking on the living room door now?"
Maki was utterly panicked, her face a mask of disbelief as she stared at the cracked, crumbling living room door behind them.
She couldn't understand.
Just a second ago, those things had been pounding on the front door in the hallway. How had they moved to the living room and started hammering on the door between the living room and the hallway?
None of her knowledge or experience could explain what was happening or guide her actions.
Only now was the girl beginning to truly comprehend what a [supernatural horror] really was.
Crack!
A hole split open in the wooden living room door.
Blood oozed from the fissure.
A putrid stench began to spread.
It was as if the living room they had just searched had transformed into a slaughterhouse, piled high with bloodied limbs.
[Open the door!]
The voices of the three outsiders seemed to scream directly into their ears.
Like three invisible figures standing beside them, roaring in their faces.
The distorted voices blurred their vision.
They could almost see three mangled figures crammed behind the door, wailing in agony, shrieking in pain.
Boom!
The wooden door warped grotesquely, on the verge of shattering.
The hallway itself twisted unnaturally, as if reflected in a funhouse mirror.
And the three of them, collapsed on the floor, felt their own bodies begin to distort—every cell, every layer of skin, flesh, and bone warping into something grotesque.
"What... is this...?"
Kaguya struggled to push herself up but couldn't find the strength.
From the moment the things outside began their transformation, the trio in the hallway had started losing control of their bodies.
The world twisted like a hallucination. Their limbs grew heavier, weaker.
Noise roared in their minds, swelling louder and louder, as if countless figures surrounded them on all sides.
As if the hallway was packed with an unseen crowd, crushing them in place.
One after another...
Unseen, unheard, unfelt...
Those who lingered here... forever unable to rest...
"Ugh..."
Kaguya, with the sharpest hearing of the three, collapsed to the floor with a pained whimper.
The 17-year-old girl had never faced anything so terrifying and bizarre. Having endured the knocking alone before Takakai and Maki emerged, she was the most affected, her strength nearly gone.
Yet even now, she clutched the wall clock—the one taken from the end of the hallway, 208's only timepiece—refusing to let go.
"Ka... Kaguya..."
A muffled voice reached her ears.
Amid the cacophony of screams, someone seemed to be speaking right beside her.
Then—a hand shot out and grabbed the clock.
Kaguya whipped her head around to see Takakai's face splitting down the middle.
The sight was something that shouldn't exist in reality.
She watched as his face parted like the pages of a book, peeling open to reveal pulsating veins, a twitching brain, a bisected tongue writhing, muscles trembling so vividly she could see saliva glistening on the severed flesh.
Was this... an illusion?
She looked down.
The skin on her fingers, gripping the clock, was flaking away, exposing raw, red flesh beneath.
She felt no pain.
Or rather—the pain was only now creeping in.
Slowly, insidiously, spreading through her body the moment she noticed it.
"..."
No sound escaped her lips.
In the silent hallway, the girl couldn't utter a word.
She watched as her body turned translucent.
As every part of her split apart, fractured, shattered into fragments.
The pain sharpened.
Her thoughts dulled.
Her mouth refused to make a sound as she numbly witnessed her own dissolution.
Was this... what had happened to those in the hallway...?
Click—
But another sound reached her.
Close. Very close.
With immense effort, she lowered her gaze.
A severed hand.
Hanging by a thread of skin, attached to a skeleton on the verge of crumbling apart.
Two fingers.
Resting lightly on the clock's hour hand.
Click—
The sound was crisp.
The hour hand moved.
Turned back slightly.
"Gah—!"
Kaguya's eyes flew open as she bolted upright from the filthy, broken bed.
Beside her, Takakai gasped for air, his forehead drenched in sweat.
No eerie knocking. No disembodied voices.
No disintegrating body or numbed senses.
It was as if it had all been a nightmare—except they seemed to have returned to the beginning.
"What... did you just do...?"
Kaguya, already piecing it together, still couldn't believe it. Her voice was barely a whisper.
"Every clock in this place is absolutely accurate, right?"
Takakai forced himself up, glancing at the rules sheet on the nightstand and the kitchen entrance where the door had been removed. He steadied himself against the wall before finally standing straight.
He had turned back time.
Back to the very beginning.
Back to when he and Kaguya had just woken up in this room, when they had first heard that eerie voice.
They were still in 204.
None of it had happened yet.