Green, clearly a professional at lockpicking, had effortlessly opened the door to Room 205.
Knowing exactly where the first danger lay, Takakai's group didn't hesitate—they stepped inside immediately. Kaguya took the lead, with Maki and Takakai close behind. Takakai thought for a moment, then signaled for Green to drag Sun Dajun along.
The door to Room 205, at least for now, was intact—a potential temporary shelter. Old Guo, with his mysterious demeanor, likely had ways to protect himself. But if Sun Dajun got killed outside and turned into another monster knocking on their door… well, Takakai had no desire to relive the sensation of his body dissolving again.
"H-Hey! What are you doing?!"
"Shut up. Move, or I'll make you move."
Sun Dajun, all bark and no bite, tried to resist—but against the 6'3", muscle-bound Green, his protests were useless. Grumbling, he was forced into Room 205.
"You coming with us?"
Takakai, the last to enter, turned to Old Guo. The Black man hesitated, then chose to stay with Old Guo instead. Apparently, a group led by high schoolers wasn't as reassuring as the enigmatic older man.
"I'm checking the left staircase. You've got skills—be careful. This game's difficulty is abnormal. Gather as much intel as you can from the survivors' notes. And… be wary of corpses. Don't enter Room 210. That's my advice. Hope you survive."
Unlike before, Old Guo made no attempt to hide his awareness of Takakai's suspicions. His tone was unreadable—sincere or deceptive, it was impossible to tell.
With that, he motioned for the Black man to follow, and the two headed toward the left staircase, avoiding the right side where that thing had descended earlier.
No doubt about it—this guy's a veteran. And not some deadweight like Green, but a legitimately experienced player. He might even possess one of those Obsession Green mentioned.
Come to think of it, though Takakai still didn't know what a Obsession was, Old Guo's pause outside Room 210 might have been him using one to detect threats. The name Obsession certainly suggested supernatural power. Maybe with a strong enough one, you could bulldoze through these horrors like they were nothing.
But that was just wishful thinking.
Old Guo's earlier attempt to rally survivors, followed by his swift departure with the Black man in tow, gave Takakai the impression he wasn't the cooperative type. Maybe it was better this way—each group taking their own path.
Still, Takakai couldn't shake the feeling that the Black man's fate wouldn't be a pleasant one. But with no concrete evidence, he couldn't force him to stay.
Click—
Locking the door might cut off their escape, but after the horrors of the knocking entities, Takakai wasn't taking chances. Even if Room 205 had its own dangers, shutting the door was non-negotiable. And this time, no one was staying in the hallway—everyone had to remain in the living room or kitchen.
Last time, just hearing the knocks had allowed those things to latch onto his thoughts. But with the living room walls muffling outside noise, maybe the apartment's bizarre layout was designed to counter this very threat.
To the right of the entrance was the bathroom; to the left, the hallway.
The layout mirrored Rooms 204 and 208—a sharp turn at the end of the hall, leading to where a wall clock should have been. But this one was missing, likely taken by Kaguya or Maki. Past that, another right turn led to the living room—though living room wasn't entirely accurate, given it doubled as a bedroom.
"A-Aah—mmph!"
A scream erupted—or rather, started to erupt—before being ruthlessly stifled.
Takakai stepped into the dim living room. The windows were nearly boarded up, leaving the space shrouded in gloom. A small desk and bookshelf stood against the wall near the door. The kitchen entrance was barricaded with wooden planks, a foul odor seeping through—like something had rotted inside.
Scattered on the floor were torn scraps of paper, some blank, others covered in chaotic scribbles. Takakai initially hoped for clues, but after picking up a few, he tossed them aside in disappointment.
Sun Dajun cowered in a corner under Green's watchful glare, while Green himself stood nervously, offering Takakai an ingratiating smile. God, that's disgusting. But as long as the man stayed obedient, Takakai could tolerate it.
Maki had scavenged a tattered backpack, stuffing both the clock from 208 and the one from 205 inside. She stood guard near the door, visibly relaxing only when Takakai entered. She'd clearly been keeping an eye on Green and Sun Dajun.
As for Kaguya—
She had the blonde woman in an iron grip, fingers clamped over her mouth as she dragged her off the bed, indifferent to her frantic struggles.
"Quiet. I won't say it again."
Kaguya's voice was glacial. The woman, trembling and tearful, raised her hands in surrender.
…Are we the villains now?
Shaking off the thought, Takakai crouched by the bed and lifted the grimy sheet hanging to the floor.
A stiff female corpse lay beneath.
"What the f—!"
Sun Dajun nearly screamed, but a single icy "Quiet" from Kaguya—and Green's threatening glare—shut him up. He slumped to the floor, face pale.
Green, though trying to play the loyal lackey, was visibly shaken by the corpse. But he quickly noticed something—neither Kaguya, Takakai, nor Maki showed the slightest reaction. Despite their youth, they were the calmest people here.
These three must've survived at least one game before. Real veterans.
If I stick with them, make myself useful… I will survive this.
Hell, I'd lick a toilet if it meant living through this nightmare. And these guys seem reasonable—as long as I don't get in their way, I'll make it!
While Green indulged in his delusions, Takakai focused entirely on the corpse.
This was likely what had triggered the blonde woman's earlier screaming fit—the one that summoned the thing.
Unlike the frozen corpse in 208's fridge, this woman hadn't been dead long. Her eyes were closed, lips slightly blue, face faintly swollen. She wore a gray nightgown, the collar loose enough to hide her neck. Her fingers, too, bore a bluish tint. A dark yellow stain marked her pajama bottoms, the stench nearly faded.
Takakai already had a rough idea of her cause of death—but he needed to check for bruises, scratches, or ligature marks on her neck.
[Beware of corpses.]
Old Guo's warning echoed in his mind.
Did she die in this room?
What killed her? And where is it now?
Takakai scanned the room again. The dim lighting made details hazy, but the layout left no hiding spots—assuming the killer was physical.
Then his gaze returned to the double bed.
To the space beneath it.
To the corpse lying there.
And to the thing behind her—
A man's face, half-shattered like broken toy blocks, coated in black-red filth.
Watching him.
Unblinking.
Through cracked glasses.