[Woof! Woof woof!]
The sound of barking echoed intermittently through the dimly lit room.
A foul stench permeated the air, causing Kaguya to wrinkle her nose as she stepped inside.
This was the space beyond the door at the top of Shirasawa Elementary's main staircase.
Before opening it, she had imagined various possibilities—a distorted nightmare room, a deceptively normal space hiding horrors—but never anticipated finding a dog kennel.
And certainly not one so wretched.
"This place..."
After a brief hesitation, Kaguya pressed forward.
Her "friends" had suggested exploring here. Their advice was trustworthy. Normal.
Besides, they were standing guard at the entrance, watching for any threats. With them keeping watch, she had nothing to fear. Everything was perfectly normal.
Was it really?
Her footsteps echoed against the tiled floor.
The only illumination came from the lobby behind her, casting her elongated shadow across the kennel floor.
[Woof! Woof!]
[Clang! Clatter!]
The cacophony of barking dogs and rattling cages filled the air.
Rows of cramped metal enclosures lined the walls, each packed with mixed-breed puppies—no adult dogs in sight. The animals stood ankle-deep in their own waste, many visibly injured. Some cages even contained decomposing corpses.
Just a few moments inside made Kaguya's stomach churn.
"Ugh... revolting..."
Regulating her breathing, she advanced while carefully observing her surroundings.
Something felt... fundamentally wrong.
On the surface, this appeared to be simply a poorly maintained kennel—the kind run by fraudulent "animal rescuers" who abused their charges. Yet an uncanny dissonance lingered, as if reality itself was subtly misaligned here.
Why would a school-themed dungeon include a dog kennel?
Previous areas—bedrooms, lobbies, auditoriums—all made logical sense as school environments. But this? What childhood trauma could possibly manifest such a place?
Moreover, the dogs' behavior was distinctly peculiar.
[Bark! Bark bark!]
Every single animal was barking frantically, yet none attacked each other. Their frenzy seemed directed solely at her—less like aggression and more like... attempted communication?
The absurd notion almost made her laugh aloud.
Then she remembered exactly where she was.
"Are you... trying to tell me something?" she whispered cautiously.
[BARK BARK BARK!]
The response was deafening. Dogs threw themselves against cage bars with desperate intensity.
Was it her voice that triggered this? Or did they genuinely understand human speech?
The pre-blessing Kaguya would have dismissed such thoughts immediately—the dungeon's "normalcy" filter would have prevented such questioning. But her missing undergarment served as a constant reminder that kept that mental filter cracked open.
"Quiet. If you understand me, calm down," she instructed while edging backward, ready to activate her Berserk Blessing if needed.
Miraculously, the barking began subsiding. The few persistent offenders were quickly nipped into silence by their peers.
Within seconds, complete quiet fell over the kennel.
Dozens of canine eyes locked onto her with unsettling focus.
And in that moment, true terror struck her.
These weren't dogs.
They were people.
Children.
Shirasawa's missing students.
That explained the complete absence of adult dogs. The injuries. The deaths.
Focus. I'm here for a reason. Panic helps nothing.
The dungeon's underlying mechanics were becoming clear:
Memory deletion mechanisms
Time reset functions
Self-reminder systems to bypass the first two
Her missing undergarment suggested she'd met Takakai in Alice's safe room specifically to devise this reminder method.
Now, surrounded by these... transformed children, the fundamental "abnormality" of the situation was undeniable.
Yet one "normal" perception stubbornly persisted—her so-called "friends" still guarding the entrance.
Why aren't they helping? Since when is abandoning your teammate in a dangerous situation considered normal?
The cognitive dissonance made her head throb painfully.
But she couldn't reveal her growing awareness yet.
"Can... you understand me?" she whispered to a nearby cage.
[Whimper...]
"If the keys are in this room, bark twice. If not, stay quiet."
[Whine... whine...]
Several dogs turned their heads pointedly toward the room's darker depths.
The keys are further inside. But going deeper means losing sight of the door. Of them.
Then her gaze fell upon it—a nearly-grown golden retriever tucked away in a corner.
Something about it seemed... familiar.
Those eyes... do I know you?
[Why have you stopped? Did you find something? Shouldn't you explore further in?]
[We'll keep watching the door for you. We're friends, after all.]
The voices came from the entrance.
Her "friends'" voices.
Except now she could hear the underlying truth—the rasping, inhuman mimicry beneath their words.
"...Some of you should come help me search," Kaguya called back, testing the limits of their act.
[Why would we need to do that? We're perfectly positioned here. Why would you suggest that?]
"Then at least have some of you watch the other doors too. Better security that way."
[We can see everything perfectly from here. Why would you propose such a thing?]
Their rigid, formulaic responses revealed something alarming. These weren't simply roleplaying "friends"—they were following some alien, incomprehensible logic.
And her probing questions had inadvertently triggered something.
[Why aren't you speaking to us? Aren't we your friends?]
Their voices grew louder, more distorted with each syllable.
Crack. Crack.
Fissures began spreading across their humanoid forms, revealing squirming black tendrils beneath the surface.
[Friends trust each other completely. You clearly don't trust us.]
[If we're not friends... then what exactly are we?]
The transformation completed before her eyes—revealing grinning, scribble-like horrors radiating palpable malice.
Meanwhile, Takakai pushed open another bathroom door.
Child-sized shoes peeked out from beneath every stall door.
[Shouldn't we check inside the stalls? Might find important clues.]
His "friend" suggested helpfully.
"...No."
After repeatedly checking his ammunition count and rewriting the reminder on his hand, Takakai's trust in these so-called "companions" had significantly eroded.
[Why are you ignoring your friends' advice? Aren't we supposed to be friends?]
The whining tone grated on his nerves.
"Shut the hell up. We're here to rescue someone, not go on a fucking sightseeing tour. Only complete idiots go poking around obvious traps."
[But friends are supposed to listen to each other's—]
"Following stupid advice blindly is how you get killed in places like this. Either start using your brain or keep it shut."
Takakai's attention was drawn to another door across the room.
Then the voice whispered directly into his ear:
[Why are you trying to silence me? Why are you being so cruel to your frien—]
WHACK!
Takakai's backhand sent the speaker spinning like a top.
[You—]
He grabbed the thing's head in an iron grip, nearly crushing it, then punted the nuisance straight into the hallway with a powerful kick.
"Next time you distract me during a mission, I'll rip your damn tongue out. Be grateful I'm still considering you a friend."
To Takakai, this was perfectly normal behavior—correcting incompetent teammates was basic survival protocol. Beautiful female allies merited patience. Annoying nuisances got immediate violence.
The remaining figures froze in place, seemingly unable to process this complete deviation from expected social interactions.
Unconcerned by their confusion, Takakai simply resumed his methodical search of the area.
Just find Hayasaka already...