Under the cover of night, the hospital illuminated by soft lighting buzzed with strange noises from its wards.
An expressionless orderly helped a collapsed figure onto a machine before activating it.
A piercing whirring sound filled the air as the machine's built-in screen displayed images of [Idol Alice], while speakers on both sides began playing Alice's songs on loop for the person strapped inside.
Suddenly, the orderly turned to face a new presence in the room.
A police officer.
Dressed in a dirty uniform, gripping a pistol, his face contorted with rage.
He phased through the wall, step by step entering the room.
[Get out!]
The orderly roared.
[Get out! Get out!]
Furious shouts erupted through the hallway as every orderly joined in.
[You damn bastard! This is all your fault!]
[You're the real criminal! The real murderer! You're worse than an animal!]
[How dare you keep living? Why don't you just die! You bastard! You damned scum!]
The walls screamed obscenities.
The beds and ceiling lights cursed viciously.
Countless faces emerged from every surface, hurling venomous abuse at the man.
The officer stood motionless for a long moment before finally turning and leaving without another action.
The orderly's face twisted between fear, glee and pain into something indescribable as the disembodied voices continued their tirade.
Even in Hirano Sousuke's ward, faces sprouted from every surface, glaring at him with looks of profound hatred as if he were their most bitter enemy.
Clatter—
An orderly pushed a cart down the hallway.
Several ward doors stood open, revealing the bullet-riddled bodies of female students—clearly killed before they could fully transform. Torn patient regulations suggested they'd read contaminated materials without supervision, triggering their elimination.
Thud—
The orderly paused at one room where Sekino Rika sat on her bed giggling lowly. Her eyes bulged grotesquely from their sockets, blood streaming from her ears and nostrils. Yet her expression radiated euphoria as she whispered repeatedly:
"Come be Alice's friend with us..."
Her voice held unnatural rapture—nothing like her normal self.
Clatter—
The cart continued down the hall past more wards filled with whispering figures who were no longer human—just hollow shells of adoration.
Finally it stopped before a heavy security door at the hallway's end.
Creak—
The door swung open then shut behind it.
Under the lights, the seemingly normal hospital held no observers—just the girls' eerie giggles and the blank-faced figure strapped to the stretcher, surrounded by screaming faces.
Scratch scratch—
Somewhere, someone seemed to be drawing something.
Meanwhile, Takakai held his breath, limbs braced between walls to cling to the ceiling like some human spider.
Haa... haa...
Ragged breathing approached as a figure shuffled into view below.
From its attire and point of origin, this was undoubtedly the hospital director.
The nameplate clearly identified him as [Fujii Hiroshi]—almost certainly related to [Fujii Goro].
Takakai found himself in this predicament after being detected immediately upon entering. Hitori's intervention had broken the initial pursuit, while his rescue team badge provided temporary cover. Now it was just a waiting game.
Kumami lurked nearby ready to assist if needed, while Miko and "Hitori One" searched the director's office. Surprisingly, uncovering secrets proved far easier than expected—almost as if they weren't deliberately hidden at all. Through the mental link, Maki soon relayed startling discoveries:
Fujii Hiroshi was Fujii Goro's only son.
Initially unaware of Fujisaka Academy's horrors, he'd lived normally until the 1960s when he began dreaming of his father. These visions led him to the abandoned school ruins where he encountered [Alice].
His records described this as a [Fated Encounter]—[The World's Most Perfect Flower] bestowed by the gods.
He fell completely under Alice's thrall, committing countless kidnappings to provide "gifts" for her at the ruined school. The office contained disturbingly detailed logs of these crimes.
[I've never seen a man so nauseatingly obsessive. His words and actions are beyond disgusting.]
Maki's sharp critique of Fujii's writings came through the link.
[Classic enthrallment. He was dead the moment he saw Alice. But why then? There must be a puppeteer behind this timing.]
Takakai mused as he maintained his ceiling perch.
[You say enthrallment... was that monstrous Alice actually beautiful? You weren't affected, were you?]
Maki's question carried hints of concern.
[No, I'd already been enthralled by someone else. You know this.]
Even while bantering, Takakai remained perfectly still—a human ceiling tile.
The entity passed beneath him repeatedly without once looking up, reminding Takakai of those unrealistic stealth games he'd once scoffed at.
[Must you joke at a time like this?]
Maki's flustered retort faded as she returned to research.
Unbeknownst to Takakai, his casual remark about being "already enthralled" sent Miko's heart racing until she forcibly refocused on the documents.
The records showed Fujii had somehow gained control of Fujisaka's ruins—possibly with Alice's help—and attempted to rebuild the school. Financial logs detailed repairs and even a memorial portrait for his father, though Fujii seemed indifferent to how or where the man had died.
This project was abruptly abandoned when Alice changed plans. Half a year later, [Idol Alice] debuted—with Fujii as her manager.
The subsequent records were absurdly detailed, documenting Alice's meteoric rise to national stardom.
Too detailed...
Takakai grew increasingly uneasy. Information about the supernatural never came this easily.
Are these records unimportant? Or intentionally left visible because they don't lead to the truth we seek?
A chilling possibility struck him—what if these documents had only appeared when they entered? The work of those [Takamagahara] entities Miko mentioned?
[Be extremely careful reading further. This glut of information is unnatural—likely tampered with by Takamagahara.]
His warning came just as Maki, researching 1970s idols, found puzzling gaps—news clippings referencing a superstar whose records had strangely vanished from public memory.
Meanwhile, Miko uncovered a thick ledger documenting over a thousand "private meetings" between Alice and fans. The brief descriptions made her stomach turn—the "quickest" demise involved being roasted alive.
Haa... haa...
The mutilated director—his body covered in torture wounds—finally exited the building, allowing the search team to resume work.
Takakai dropped from the ceiling to inspect a [Deep Treatment Room], finding equipment clearly transplanted from Fujisaka Academy—torture devices stained with indelible dark patches. Apparently Fujii had relocated Alice's "toys" here for convenience.
Every transfer was meticulously documented down to shipping costs.
"If the idol records are unimportant, what is?" Takakai muttered.
There was no mention of Alice gaining a physical form—nor any records about Hirano Sousuke's interactions with her.
"Lots of information, but no real progress," Kumami observed as she joined him.
"Expected. But we've confirmed one thing."
Takakai recalled the final document—hidden in a safe that "Hitori One" had ripped open barehanded:
Alice will never leave us
I will succeed. I will bring her back
But... I can't do it alone
Yes, yes—we need more believers. Like Yoruyama High. If enough believe, Alice will return
When preparations are complete, we'll return to that school—where Alice was born
My Alice, Alice Alice Alice, come back to me
—Fujii Hiroshi
The revelation about Hirohoto Hospital mimicking Yoruyama's methods wasn't shocking—but who had provided that knowledge?
More puzzlingly, this record postdated [Idol Alice]'s death. Too many gaps remained.
Still, it pointed toward one clear path: Fujisaka Academy's ruins.
"It's coming back," Kumami warned.
"Understood. Time to—wait."
Takakai's gaze fell on the building's elevator.
After confirming with Miko about unseen entities, he led the team inside—noting only floors 1-3 were accessible.
With a sudden punch, he smashed through the elevator floor, revealing yawning darkness below.