The first thing Kota felt was wet stone against his cheek, slick and warm, like skin after a shower.
The second was screaming.
He pushed himself up with a groan, blinking in the dim, reddish light that pulsed like a lover's heartbeat.
His hand slipped on something viscous—a hot, slippery sheen that smelled faintly of musk.
Is that… lube?
He looked around, heart hammering, pants tightening.
The classroom was gone.
In its place, a long, organic corridor of throbbing pink stone, veined like flesh in heat. The walls pulsed, slow and rhythmic, like the inside of a throat mid-moan.
Glistening droplets fell from above, plopping onto the floor with wet, teasing splashes.
The air was thick, humid, carrying a sweet, primal scent that made Kota's head swim.
Faint, sultry moans echoed from the distance, as if the dungeon itself was aroused.
Sprawled across the slick floor, in various states of confusion and horror, were the eight girls—and their teacher.
"What the fuck is this!?" Reina's voice cracked as she scrambled up, clutching her uniform skirt as it clung to her thighs, the fabric riding up to flash creamy skin and a hint of lace.
Aika-sensei stood, brushing something invisible off her blouse, the sheer fabric hugging her curves, nipples faintly visible through the dampening cloth.
"Quiet. Everyone calm down. I need a headcount—"
"Did someone roofie us?" Kanae barked, backing away from the walls, her hips swaying as her skirt swished, revealing a glimpse of her toned legs.
"This is some pervert trap, I swear to God—"
"It's damp," Miki whined, lifting her foot, her tanned thigh flexing as sticky fluid dripped from her shoe. "Why is it so wet down here?"
Kota sat up, heart pounding, his gaze darting across the girls.
Rina was curled against the wall, sobbing, her blouse unbuttoned just enough to show a glimpse of cleavage.
Hina stood in a defensive stance, fists clenched, her tight gym shorts accentuating her muscular thighs.
Yuri tugged at her shirt, the fabric stretched taut, outlining every curve as if it had shrunk in the humid air.
Only Kota wasn't panicking as much as they were.
He knew this place.
Not just the veiny tiles, slick with glistening sheen.
Not just the pulsating walls or the wet, squishing moans echoing in the distance.
No.
This was Carnal Labyrinth EX.
The eroge dungeon-crawler he'd played in secret, late at night, headphones on, door locked.
He swallowed hard, his throat dry despite the damp. "We're in the game…"
"What?" Reina snapped, rounding on him, her chest heaving, blouse buttons straining.
Kota flinched but forced himself to speak. "I—I know this place. I've seen it before. The layout, the walls, the lighting—it's from a game. Carnal Labyrinth EX. An 18+ dungeon crawler. I… I played it."
A pause hung in the air, thick as the musky heat.
Then the laughter erupted.
"Oh my God," Kanae said, clutching her stomach, her skirt flipping up slightly as she doubled over, revealing a flash of panties.
"You're actually blaming this on one of your perv games?"
"No, listen—"
"You're seriously saying we got sucked into your porno fantasy?" Yuri added, voice dripping with disbelief, her fingers still tugging at her shirt, exposing a sliver of midriff.
Aika didn't laugh, but her disdainful glare cut deeper, her lips pursed, pantyhose glinting as she shifted her weight. "Not helpful, Sakamoto. Try again."
"It's real," Kota insisted, voice shaking, sweat beading on his brow as the dungeon's heat pressed against him.
"This is Level 1. It starts with a fake tutorial room, then you enter the—"
Reina marched up, her hips swaying, skirt barely containing her curves.
She loomed over him, eyes blazing, close enough for him to catch the faint scent of her perfume mixed with the dungeon's musk.
"Don't pretend you know what this is. You probably did this. What, some weird VR thing? Trying to humiliate us?"
Kota recoiled, his back brushing the slick wall, the contact sending a shiver through him.
"No! I didn't do anything!"
But before Reina could press further, the wall beside them… groaned.
Not creaked. Groaned.
A slow, low, erotic moan rolled through the stone, deep and sultry, like a lover caught mid-climax.
The fleshy walls pulsed harder, wetness dribbling down the seams, pooling at their feet.
The girls froze, their breaths hitching, skirts and blouses clinging tighter in the humid air.
Then—beneath their feet—a new glyph flared to life.
A lewd, floral shape, its dripping slit glowing at the center, pulsing with a rhythm that matched the dungeon's moans.
"Don't move," Kota whispered, eyes wide, his voice barely audible over the wet throb. "That's the—"
Too late.
A shoe grazed the glyph's edge.
The symbol pulsed, bright and hungry.
The corridor began to breathe.