"Stop acting mysterious. If you really want to verify it, isn't just opening the door enough?"
Unconvinced of Takumi's words, Kaguya was already intent on going to open the door.
"..."
On the other side, Yamamoto Hiroshi said nothing; he only took a few steps back. It was hard to tell whether he believed it or not—but clearly, the middle-aged man's mental state was poor, somewhat shaken by what had happened.
Only one person had yet to give an answer.
Takumi knew that, in fact, this was the answer he had been waiting for.
"Fine, I'll give it a try—let's see what it is you're trying to do."
Shijō Maki reached out and took the earplugs from Takumi's hand.
"Maki…" Kaguya frowned in confusion.
"This guy looks completely cornered—his words are utterly absurd, yet he believes every one of them. And there are a lot of strange things going on… If we're going to verify it, we should at least do it safely. Oba-san, what you said about just opening the door might be straightforward, but it's the same as throwing yourself into danger. So, let's see what he's actually trying to do. Or is it that those of the main Shinomiya family have less courage than the Shijō branch?"
With a hint of provocation in her tone, Shijō Maki put on the earplugs and pressed them tight.
Seeing this, Takumi didn't hesitate—he immediately put in his own pair.
The next instant, he couldn't hear a single sound.
These earplugs, specially made by the previous generation of survivors, had an extremely strong sound-insulating effect. Even though he could still see Kaguya, standing just three or four meters in front of him, moving her lips and saying something, Takumi couldn't hear anything at all.
Was it coming?
Takumi's gaze shifted toward the doorway.
[…]
He didn't hear any sound.
Yet both Kaguya and Yamamoto Hiroshi turned their heads at the same time toward the door at the end of the corridor.
[…]
Still no sound.
But the rust-stained door began to tremble lightly, a thin layer of dust falling from it.
[…]
Still no sound.
Kaguya kept moving her lips, speaking continuously—as if conversing with someone. Not far away, Yamamoto Hiroshi also opened his mouth, seemingly talking as well.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
A world with nothing but his own breathing and heartbeat.
Maki leaned quietly against the wall, silently observing both Kaguya and the distant door.
Takumi, too, only clutched the hanging clock in his hands, waiting for the anomaly to appear.
Just like last time—like that thing which had spoken directly into their minds—Takumi waited for the moment the true danger would come.
Suddenly, Kaguya turned around, her eyes grave as she looked straight at Takumi, mouthing something.
With the earplugs on, Takumi couldn't hear her. Though he had a language plug-in, he had no particular talent for lip-reading. Thus, without focusing intently, he couldn't understand her meaning for the moment.
No abnormal phenomenon occurred in the corridor.
No shattering illusion, no quake-like tremor, no signs of the door breaking apart.
Nothing happened at all.
Yamamoto Hiroshi stepped forward a little and spoke again, seemingly addressing Takumi.
But Takumi didn't look at him—he was watching Maki's reaction instead.
Something about her seemed strange.
From earlier on, she had been staring fixedly at one spot—and following her gaze, that direction should have been… just a wall.
Strange… was it?
As he thought that, he saw Maki turn her head; her calm gaze met his, and then she slowly spoke.
Because Takumi happened to be watching her, he immediately understood what she meant.
What was she saying?
She was saying:
[Why won't you open the door for us?]
Huh?
By the time he realized it, the knocking sound had already begun, slow and steady.
Chaotic, jumbled voices followed—filtering into his ears, even though with the earplugs on, he should have heard nothing at all.
[Knock, knock, knock—]
[Hello, is anyone home?]
[Knock, knock, knock—]
[I'm your new neighbor. Is anyone home?]
[Knock, knock, knock—]1
[Who dumped trash at your door? What's going on? Is anyone home? Aren't you going to come out and take a look?]
[Knock, knock, knock—]
[Recycling! Recycling! Anyone home? Got any scrap to sell?]
[Knock, knock, knock—]
[You think we don't know you're in there, huh? Open the damn door! You've got some nerve, owing our boss money this long!]
The knocking voices grew from gentle to furious, until they became the sound of pounding fists.
Those who knocked would find all kinds of excuses, but the result of opening the door was always the same. In fact, they didn't even need the door to open—as long as they confirmed someone was inside, they would force their way in. Smash the door apart, again and again.
"Tch…"
Takumi reached into his pocket and pressed his lighter's flame directly against his own finger.
The sharp pain brought his mind instantly back to clarity.
Yamamoto Hiroshi had already reached the door, nearly grasping the handle.
Kaguya had taken several steps toward it as well, her expression unfocused.
Maki was already sitting on the ground, her face twisted in pain—as if trapped in some kind of hallucination, suffering agony like her body was being torn apart.
Everyone's positions were completely different from before.
At some point, the three people in Takumi's sight had been replaced by false images—those writhing lips were all seeking to communicate with him, searching for any crack in his defenses.
The thing coming down the stairs—though of the same type as the ghosts created from those it had killed—was on an entirely different level of power. It seemed that when facing danger, hiding inside a room was the only option; no matter what, one must not linger in the hallway. Only by ensuring that two doors were closed could the influence be cut off.
Takumi moved forward.
He knew that although Maki's consciousness had been trapped in hallucination, she had already regained awareness. So first, he threw a punch at Kaguya as she passed by, waking the girl—who had almost been completely bewitched by the voice beyond the door—with a sudden jolt. Then he tackled Yamamoto Hiroshi to the ground. His first slap didn't wake him, so he followed with a hard punch—so hard it knocked out one of the man's teeth—finally seeing signs of clarity flicker in his expression.
The illusion had already begun to corrode their senses. Takumi could feel his own skin splitting open bit by bit, and faintly hear the knocking resound against that door.
Then, Takumi shoved the hanging clock in his hands between Yamamoto Hiroshi's arms, grabbed his fingers, and pressed them onto the clock's hands.
If Tanaka could somehow make use of that Black guy to turn the clock's hands, then—
[Click!]
Yamamoto Hiroshi's finger moved the hands of the hanging clock.
All sound vanished.
All images faded into darkness.
In the next instant, Takumi suddenly sat up from the bed, quickly jumped down, ran to the living room door, opened the door of Room 204, and looked toward the direction of the hanging clock.
The hanging clock in his sight was still just a hanging clock—it hadn't turned into a head clock.
So that meant this thing only recognized the person who directly touched its hands?
"Uu…"
From behind came Kaguya's pained voice. Takumi turned his head and saw the girl's face filled with horror.
He hadn't noticed before—but when she was frightened, she actually looked rather cute.
Seeing her like that, Takumi felt an inexplicable, mischievous pleasure rise in his chest.
"How about now—do you believe what I said?"
As he spoke, he shook the hanging clock lightly in his hand.
Takumi no longer paid attention to Kaguya's expression as she tried to compose herself. He simply took a deep breath, stepped out into the corridor, and walked toward the stairwell.
Having solved the troublesome problem through such a simple and rough method, it was now time for the formal operations of this second round of the game.
...
"So, that means during the last operation, we acted together—and in the end, we all met with total annihilation?" Inside Room 206's living room, Kaguya tapped her forehead lightly, then looked toward Takumi and asked.
"It sounds like something out of a fantasy novel. If not for what we just experienced, it really would be hard to believe."
Holding the message left behind by Kyosei, which she had found in the supply box, Maki sighed as she spoke. She tore open a chocolate bar, took two bites, and couldn't help but frown at its terribly poor taste—but still forced herself to finish it.
Yamamoto Hiroshi sat in the corner of the room, holding his head and letting out a low sigh. The man's worldview had completely collapsed; it would probably take a long time for him to recover. Meanwhile, Green obediently stood guard at the living room door, his expression stern as he watched over Maeda Miwa, who was cowering in the corner against the wall.
The team from the second round of actions in the previous cycle had now regrouped once more.
However, unlike before, this time Yamamoto Hiroshi was no longer a burden who needed constant watching—he was now one of the team members. Green had also joined their side again, but when it came to handling Maeda Miwa, he wasn't as rough as before. He had only brought her out, lured the corpse from her Room 205 over to Room 210 using a lie, and after waiting for the fighting there to end and the outside to return to calm, they made sure both the main door and the living room door of Room 206 were locked before beginning their discussion.
Takumi laid out the events of the previous round in full detail: the knocking Horror Story, the head clock, the strange entity that communicated through letters, the eerie black hand that dragged people away, the twisted and distorted third floor, and Tanaka's total party kill operation. He told everyone everything—except for his own remaining 11 rollbacks granted by the plug-in.
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