Closing his eyes, Takakai forced his body to relax.
He ignored the instinctive unease of sleeping in a dungeon.
He ignored Alice's giggling specter hovering nearby.
Slowly, he slipped into sleep.
Sleeping in a dungeon was dangerous.
Some players refused outright, relying on stimulants or artifacts to stay awake. But for longer dungeons, that wasn't sustainable.
Takakai had no choice.
"Goodnight, Senpai."
Miko's whisper was the last thing he heard before darkness took him.
The Dream
A sensation of falling.
A ruined school—Fujika Middle School—loomed ahead.
Two figures approached:
One carried white flowers.
The other (himself?) held red candles.
[You didn't come last year. I thought you'd stopped.]
The first figure spoke softly.
[...These are the last candles. I thought they were gone, but I found more.]
Takakai's own voice was flat, emotionless.
The campus was dead.
Weeds choked the track. The pool was a festering swamp. Classrooms stood derelict, marked by squatters' graffiti.
He placed the candles—forged from student blood—throughout the ruins, lighting them before leaving.
His companion laid white flowers with solemn care.
Did any of this matter?
Did destroying the candles matter?
After Alice's rampage, the school collapsed. The nation fell to war. By the time stability returned, the ruins were forgotten.
No bodies. No traces of Alice.
Just emptiness.
The research was lost—scattered by the military, never to be reassembled.
It's over.
All this sin… finally ended.
He bid farewell to his student—Hirano Sousuke—and vanished into the mountains.
[Sensei~]
Alice emerged from the shadows, grinning.
[Help me, won't you?]
[Find me a body to leave this school.]
[You know how. The research… you remember, don't you?]
Darkness swallowed the scene.
But Takakai understood.
The Idol Alice's body had been crafted by that teacher—the last researcher.
Fujii Hiroshi's son was lured in. Alice toyed with restarting the school… then chose stardom instead.
And the teacher?
The letters Hirano received in later years…
All forged by Alice.
She'd consumed him—flesh and mind—mocking Hirano with fake correspondence until the day she'd planned to reveal the truth and break him.
But Hirano struck first.
Takakai walked through endless dark.
Until—
A school, vibrant and alive.
Faceless students laughed in the courtyard. Swimmers stretched by the pristine pool. Laundry fluttered on dormitory lines.
All Alice. All grinning at him.
Children. Trapped.
Their only wish?
Rest.
But as long as Alice existed, they couldn't.
Takakai opened his eyes.
No refreshment—just exhaustion.
Miko stirred nearby, her chairs now closer than when they'd slept. Dark circles framed her eyes.
Kumami approached, grim.
[It's time.]
The Courtroom
The once-empty hall was now packed.
Through spatial artifacts, a real-world replica of this court had been superimposed onto the dungeon.
Elite players filled every role—judge, jury, lawyers. Civilians had been evacuated for miles.
This was unprecedented.
No one had ever destroyed a Crimson Moon dungeon before.
But today?
That might change.
[All rise!]
The gavel struck.
The trial began—a meticulous reenactment, dismantling the original farce.
The victims' spectral forms watched in silence.
But Takakai's frown deepened.
It's not working.
Hirano hadn't appeared. The ghosts' auras hadn't shifted.
Something was missing.
[Hehe~ You know what it is, Sensei.]
Alice perched on the defendant's stand, swinging her legs.
Of course.
The culprit.
The trial needed Alice herself.
"Senpai?"
Miko noticed his tension.
"The culprit has to be here. This performance… it's meaningless without her."
Meaning—
He'd have to release Alice's seal.
Summon her fully.
But the moment he did—
Would Fujika Middle School rematerialize?
Would Hirano massacre everyone present?
What now?