Kaguya did not scream.
Even as her entire face burned crimson, even as shame threatened to swallow her whole, she clamped down on every instinct to cry out, trembling as she curled into herself on the floor.
She knew the horrors outside.
From the sounds alone, it was clear—the doors that players couldn't break meant nothing to that thing. If she made noise, it would tear through this one too.
So no matter how humiliated she felt, she had to stay silent.
Takakai-san… Could you at least look away? Or close your eyes…?
She could feel his gaze—heavy, unrelenting—and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.
But when she finally mustered the courage to glance at him…
His eyes were shut.
The only one still staring at her was the golden retriever beside him.
…Was I mistaken?
Well, Takakai-san can be frivolous at times, but in moments like this, he's always… reliable.
He wouldn't take advantage of the situation.
Her tension eased slightly.
Was that the truth?
Absolutely not.
Up until the very second Kaguya looked his way, Takakai had been staring unabashedly, committing every detail of her exposed form to memory.
With the heightened perception honed across three dungeons, he split his focus perfectly:
Ears tracking the distant battle between the policeman rescuer and the kennel horror.
Eyes memorizing the pale curve of Kaguya's back, the delicate slope of her waist, the—
Hmm. Skin as fair as Maki's, though… a bit more modest up top. Then again, Maki's had some growth thanks to my efforts.
But just as perky. Definitely the "easy childbirth" type. Would probably feel great to touch—ah, just like Maki.
I guess bloodlines don't lie. Though personality-wise, they're pretty different. Both just suck at being honest with themselves.
At least Maki's mostly fixed that now. Kaguya's still… factory settings.
These rambling thoughts didn't hinder his focus.
If anything, they helped stabilize his mindset.
That was just how he operated.
20 Minutes Later
The sounds of battle had faded.
Through the Rescue Team Badge, Takakai sensed the policeman rescuer—Hirano Sousuke's lingering grudge—still fighting but losing ground.
At the 20-minute mark, the connection severed.
The rescuer had fallen.
But 20 minutes of delay from a mere fragment of a Crimson Moon entity?
More than I hoped for.
By the 8th minute, once the horror was sufficiently distant, Takakai had already led Kaguya back into the hallway.
Behind him, Kaguya clutched a bed sheet around herself like a towel, her face still flushed.
Not ideal, but better than nothing.
Takakai hadn't risked checking the wardrobe for clothes.
In fact, he'd jammed a chair under its handles to prevent it from opening.
After repeatedly checking his bullet count, he'd confirmed:
Any dark corner—under beds, inside closets, outside windows—could harbor [Kurokuro].
And these [Kurokuro] likely had memory-erasing abilities, resetting players to their initial state upon encounter.
So far, two types stood out:
The [Kurokuro] that inserted itself as "friends" into cognition.
The [Kurokuro] that hid in shadows, wiping memories upon sight.
But Takakai suspected more variants existed—perhaps even the kennel horror was one.
Are [Kurokuro] some kind of childhood nightmare?
They don't behave like normal grudge entities. More like… derived horrors.
Why does Shirasawa Elementary have these things? And why is the whole place stitched together like this?
It's like Nutty Putty Cave's Disordered Zones, but even more fragmented.
No answers came.
For now, [Kurokuro] seemed fundamental to this dungeon's mechanics.
Yet despite their pervasive presence, no clear clues explained their rules.
Maybe my [identity] here conflicts with uncovering them.
Kaguya's role might be better suited.
"Your identity here is a student, right? Even if it sounds odd, since you heard those children in the auditorium and saw their notes, you're likely recognized as a [Shirasawa Elementary student]. That means you might be key to deciphering [Kurokuro]'s rules."
As they moved through the hallway—back to the small living room Takakai had frequented—he voiced his thoughts.
"A… student?"
Kaguya paused, a strange tinge of discomfort flickering across her face.
Why does that title feel weirdly insulting?
"It's possible. When I heard those voices earlier, I did feel… a sense of kinship. If I notice anything unusual again, I'll alert you, and we can decide whether to investigate."
Takakai nodded.
"Then let's proceed. I'm opening this door now—stay alert."
At the same time, deep in the kennel, the firefighter rescuer gripped the handle of the forbidden door.
Creak—
Takakai pushed open the door before him.
Beyond lay a small office—three desks cluttered with papers, chairs haphazardly placed.
Three more doors branched out from it.
The golden retriever peeked in timidly, then ducked back behind Kaguya's legs, trembling.
Whatever happened here… it left a mark.
Strangely, neither the shadowy figures that had lured Kaguya into the kennel nor the [friends] Takakai had driven off had reappeared.
Had they vanished? Or relocated?
Only the stray mutts still roamed freely, somehow slipping through closed doors like ghosts.
"An office…"
Takakai's frown deepened.
If I read a name or description in these documents, will I gain another [friend]?
This mechanic is actively sabotaging our intel gathering.
Before he could decide, Kaguya tugged his sleeve, pointing to one of the doors.
"Over there. I hear children… a lot of them."
Her voice was soft but certain.
"It sounds like they're… gathering."