[Thump—!]
As he walked, Takumi's foot struck a garbage bag, producing a crisp metallic sound from within.
He lowered his head and looked at the spilled bag—and the empty beer cans that had rolled out of it.
They were the kind of cheap beer sold only at roadside stalls, the lowest-grade stuff imaginable. Though the packaging looked similar to ordinary beer, anyone who'd ever drunk alcohol could tell from the smell alone that it was trash brewed by some unlicensed micro-factory—the kind of thing only the truly broke would use to numb themselves.
"What is it?"
Maki, clinging to his back, noticed Takumi's slowed steps.
"These garbage bags… they're all full of empty beer bottles," Takumi replied as he continued moving through the distorted apartments.
"Did something come to mind?"
Maki frowned, trying to think, but nothing useful surfaced. For a princess raised in a mansion and castle, cheap beer from the slums was far too distant a concept; she couldn't make any meaningful connection out of it.
"All sorts of guesses, really. The alcohol's the cheapest kind, and there's so much of it—maybe it was for a group gathering? Or maybe one person drank it all alone? Either way, these repeated piles of trash filled with empty bottles might reflect the traces of some real household that once lived in the Shirakawa Apartments.
In that sense, this could just be a remnant they left behind in this place. Hmm… but it's only speculation. Don't dwell on it too much."
Takumi furrowed his brow, thinking for quite a while before finally offering his own thoughts.
"Is that so? Something like that… Oba-san and I probably wouldn't be able to think of it that way. The difference in environment and perspective really makes a big gap. But you seem to understand this stuff pretty well—have you drunk alcohol before? Are you one of those writers who starts creating after downing a few shots?"
Still unable to really picture it, Maki shook her head as she spoke—then noticed something else.
"…No, I can't write anything after drinking. How should I put it… whether it's a family gathering, a class reunion, or a get-together with friends, alcohol always ends up being involved somehow. I suppose my sense of taste and smell are both fairly sharp, so I can pick up on those things. But personally, I actually hate drinking—it messes up my normal line of thought."
As Takumi spoke, he suddenly stopped walking and turned his gaze toward something ahead.
"Is that so? I've never had alcohol myself, but my family has already listed wine tasting as one of my compulsory courses, meant to be taught to me once I reach adulthood. Hm? What is it—why did you suddenly stop?"
Maki responded reflexively, then noticed Takumi's motion. She followed his line of sight.
It was a window.
A seemingly ordinary window located amid the distorted, twisted architecture.
However, unlike the windows they'd encountered on the second floor—or the ones in the room where they'd once been trapped—this one hadn't been nailed shut. It looked perfectly normal.
And at this moment, it was even open, revealing the silent night sky outside—and a hazy crescent moon.
"The view outside… that's—"
No.
There was no moon, no stars.
The instant she realized it, Maki abruptly shut her eyes. Takumi, meanwhile, spun around and bolted in the opposite direction of the window.
Outside the window…
What lay outside those windows…
The image tore at the girl's heart, as if seeing it once would make it impossible to ever forget.
Floating—
No, not floating—falling…
Falling upward… like stars…
"Stop thinking about it. We didn't see any window."
Takumi suddenly spoke, snapping Maki's mind back to clarity.
"Why is it that every time something like this happens, you're the first to shake it off? Tch, that thing really feels like hypnosis…"
Maki shook her head hard, no longer trapped in that eerie thought pattern, though still puzzled by Takumi's peculiar resistance to such things.
"Maybe it's a natural talent of mine—just something I'd never realized before. Tch, something's coming up behind us."
Still joking as he spoke, Takumi suddenly picked up on a strange sound nearby.
Maki noticed it even sooner—she yanked on Takumi's arm, signaling which way to dodge. Takumi immediately sprang sideways, and in the next moment, the wall beside them exploded into pieces.
A chilling figure burst out from behind it, lifting its head—its gaze locked straight onto Maki, who was still on Takumi's back.
"Holy shit—it's Fridge Bro?!"
Takumi instantly recognized the figure—the male corpse from the second floor, the refrigerator guy who had never made a move until now.
Fridge Bro
Though judging by the nickname he sounded like an ordinary guy—and well, even by appearance he really did look quite ordinary, just a corpse frozen stiff, right?
But at this moment, that thing suddenly appearing in this distorted world—bursting through the wall in the same style as a Tyrant to block their path—wasn't something that could be brushed off as a minor issue.
[Crack—crack—]
Shards of ice fell to the floor.
That rigid, all-white figure slowly raised its hand, as if trying to grab Takumi.
At the same time, without even a second of hesitation, Takumi immediately turned and ran, vanishing from the spot in a blur.
Running for a long time while carrying someone through such a chaotic and twisted environment was no easy task, but to avoid the health problems of sitting too long while typing, Takumi had spent a great deal of time working out before his transmigration—so his physical endurance was far above that of an ordinary person, allowing him to keep going for now.
No footsteps could be heard behind him.
That stiff, frozen corpse—did it not give chase?
Takumi didn't dare stop to confirm.
In the dim corridor, the lights flickered faintly, then went out—blinking like human eyes.
No other sounds could be heard.
It felt as if the entire world had been reduced to the sound of his own footsteps.
"Huff… huff…"
Inhale.
Exhale.
His feet struck the corridor littered with garbage bags and rubble, then lifted again.
Takumi adjusted his breathing and running rhythm, pushing forward as fast as he could.
Where would the hanging clock be?
'Logically speaking, once I get close enough, I should be able to sense the gaze of the human-head hanging clock.'
'But I don't feel it now—meaning it isn't nearby.'
No, maybe the distance is still too great. This cursed place is enormous; the spot where the clock exists might be far away—I'll have to approach those areas first.
He passed through another winding corridor, then dashed through an indescribably twisted passageway.
And then—Takumi's footsteps suddenly came to a stop.
"Shijō?"
The girl on his back had, at some point, fallen completely silent.
Her body was turning cold to the touch.
By the time Takumi realized it, he saw that Maki—carried on his back—had a thin layer of frost forming over her body.
He crouched down and held the girl in his arms.
Lowering his head, he met her weakening eyes. At this moment, bits of ice were already beginning to surface across her skin—just like that corpse inside the refrigerator—freezing over little by little.
"So… cold…"
The girl's voice had grown hoarse, stripped of its usual energy.
"…A corpse that escaped its room—can it impose its own manner of death onto others? Or is it because you awoke in that room—that you were its owner—that you're now suffering the same death it did? If that's the case, then what about the two corpses from Room 205? The female died from suffocation, while the male seemed to have been killed by some supernatural force. No… come to think of it, I can't even be sure whether the one that came out of 205 was the male corpse or the female one."
Muttering under his breath, Takumi gently laid the gradually stiffening girl on the ground, holding her already cold and rigid hand.
"Go…"
The girl, barely able to speak anymore, moved her lips faintly.
"Mm. Sorry… I'll be going first."
He didn't look at the tears frozen in her eyes.
He didn't look at the proud girl's final expression—filled with fear and pain.
Takumi exhaled softly, stood up, stepped around the completely frozen girl, and continued running forward.
He knew his own ending wouldn't be a good one.
After struggling this far inside this bizarre apartment—after exhausting all his strength to reach this point—this story of a transmigrator, the story of someone trapped in a rotten-to-the-core Rule-type Horror Story game, was probably nearing its curtain call.
How pathetic.
As a transmigrator who once dreamed of being a harem protagonist, in the end he could only watch helplessly as a beautiful girl died right in front of him.
Even so—to just give up without fighting back, that was something he still couldn't accept.
Even if it was all bound to be in vain…
Takumi changed his direction.
He looped around and began to run back—back toward that blood-red Room 304 he had seen before.
Even if it would be meaningless, before dying, he wanted to see it for himself—to see what kind of thing existed at the deepest part of this cursed place, that forbidden Room 304 no one was supposed to enter.