'Ryouma's a scaredy cat himself. He puts on a fearless front, but inside… he usually gets scared shitless by even a slightly eerie atmosphere.'
Ryuga sighed deeply, then stretched out his right hand and slowly pressed it against the oak door. The dust and dirt clinging to his palm made him wince, but he kept exerting force regardless.
Seeing him casually open the door, the others couldn't help but suck in a cold breath.
Ryouma was the most horrified of them all, but he quickly calmed his nerves and grabbed Ryuga's arm.
"This isn't the time to be reckless. We should calmly think this out before doing anything stupid."
The source of the smell was something Ryouma already understood—and he firmly believed that Ryuga had a similar hunch.
This went beyond a normal 'haunted' experience. In a place with such an atmosphere and appearance as this mansion, anyone's mind would naturally start forming illusions that didn't exist in reality.
That was the usual 'haunted' experience.
But the smell coming from this room was different—it was something real. It extended beyond the illusionary realm created by the subconscious mind and into something that could actually affect their lives in reality.
Ryouma might've been a scaredy cat, but he wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what kind of mess they'd get themselves into if they opened that door.
That was why he stopped Ryuga. The impulsive bastard had a severe allergic reaction to anything remotely 'haunted.'
Though he normally worked as an exorcist because of his family traditions, Ryuga himself deeply resented and refused to believe in the supernatural.
Hence, whenever he wasn't in his 'work' mode, he did everything in his power to reject even the faintest hint of the supernatural. And doing reckless things like this one wasn't exactly a rarity, either.
'This madlad wouldn't listen to anyone normally. I need to guilt-trip him or something.'
Ryouma immediately formulated a plan and put it into action.
"Ryuga, we aren't alone here. We have our new member, Fuyumi, with us too. Think about her—she's already so scared. Do you really want to make her first trip with us a haunting one? How would she see us then? Think about it."
It seemed as if Ryouma's plan was working. A faint frown formed on Ryuga's temples; he appeared to be contemplating whether to continue or not.
Yet—
"Wait a minute! Who said that I was scared?"
There was a small problem with the plan—the so-called 'scared' person herself refused to believe she was scared.
"I was just taken off guard by Ryuga before. I was NOT scared. And I was definitely not crying. He was lying through his teeth."
Fuyumi had her arms folded beneath her chest, her lips twisted into a pout. She stood her ground firmly.
"You don't need to lie, Fuyumi. All of us are scared at some level. Whether ghosts are real or not, we can't ignore the tricks our brains play on us. Whether one wants it or not, a dilapidated area like this is bound to ignite fear."
It was Hina who explained and, in a roundabout way, tried to console Fuyumi.
"Aahhhhh! You guys just refuse to believe me, FINE! Let me just show you my bravery!"
Saying so, Fuyumi stormed forward, tackling Ryouma and tumbling in the process. She gnashed her teeth at him hatefully, then, in a fit of rage, kicked the old oak door.
The oak door creaked in response and slowly opened—it wasn't locked.
At once, a cold wind brushed past the group, sending a chill through their skin. Involuntarily, each of them began rubbing their arms.
But that wasn't all. The previous metallic, rot-like smell intensified several folds as the door opened. The stench was so horrendous that some of them felt sick to their stomachs. If not for the fear of embarrassing themselves, they would've puked right then and there.
Among them, Ryouma and Ryuga exchanged a look before venturing in first.
The inside of the room was fairly normal—if one ignored the countless cobwebs clinging to every corner and the thick layer of dust coating each piece of furniture.
It was a master bedroom. A simple table stood near the window, scattered with dirty documents. The window itself was draped with brownish curtains, their color dulled by age. Though closed, the curtains still allowed slivers of moonlight to seep through, casting the already grim room in an even more unsettling glow.
"Souta, continue to record everything in detail. Now that we're here, let's investigate this room and find the body as soon as possible. Later, we can call the police, and they'll handle the rest."
Ryuga's words struck a deep sense of unease in Fuyumi's heart. She stuttered, her voice trembling, "B-body? What body?"
Ryuga chuckled and closed the distance between them, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as if pondering something profound. "Body… hmm… I'm not too sure. Maybe of the vengeful ghost haunting this mansion? Either way, what do you think that smell was? Aren't you a bio student? How could you not catch it?"
Now that the secret behind the smell had been unveiled, Sayo, Daichi, and Fuyumi finally understood why Ryouma had been so adamant about not opening the door.
Fuyumi, in particular, cursed herself and her temper for recklessly kicking it open.
This was worse than finding a ghost. At least ghosts didn't come with police investigations and case files. Who knew—maybe they'd even be suspected as culprits. Her future flashed before her eyes, one where she was locked up in a cold police cell.
'Wait a minute!'
Something suddenly clicked in her mind, and her thoughts began running at full speed.
'Was that the reason Ryuga kept reminding Souta to keep filming? To use the footage as proof of our innocence?'
In that instant, the previously wretched Ryuga was transformed in her eyes—from devil to angel.
His figure, shrouded in the room's darkness as he searched around, now appeared bathed in a golden halo.
"He's so dependable…" she murmured.
Her voice reached the others' ears, and they all turned to her with equally bewildered expressions.
Ryuga? Dependable?
Those two words couldn't be more contradictory.