"Don't worry, Twilight-level scenarios are the easiest. If we work together, we'll get through this safely."
Old Guo smiled earnestly, but beside him, Green frowned.
Unlike the black guy who'd read too many Chinese web novels and thought this was some kind of "infinite flow" adventure, eagerly following the "veteran player" Old Guo, Green wasn't an idiot.
As someone who'd been incredibly lucky during his first Sacrifice Game—stumbling into a scenario where three top-tier players using special items had teamed up to investigate a beginner-level game, allowing him to coast through the entire thing—Green might not know much, but he could tell the difference between genuinely capable veterans who were willing to help and those with ulterior motives. Though not highly educated, his upbringing in the social underbelly had honed his ability to read people's strengths, weaknesses, and true intentions.
And Old Guo? The kind of guy who seemed friendly but showed no micro-expressions, whose true emotions were completely unreadable? Green wanted nothing to do with him. In his eyes, this guy was a wolf in sheep's clothing—the type who'd sacrifice newcomers without a second thought.
If I'm gonna latch onto someone, it better be a veteran who won't use newbies as cannon fodder.
Even if the big shot ignores me, at least I won't have to worry about getting stabbed in the back by my own kind. Worst case, I'll just suck up harder.
So for now, he'd observe. See if any other capable players showed up.
Leaning against the door of Room 209—where he'd woken up—Green scanned the hallway.
First to emerge was a middle-aged man from Room 206. Hard to tell if he was Chinese, Japanese, or something else, but as long as he wasn't Korean, it was fine. Still, the guy was clearly a newbie, and people his age usually struggled to adapt to the urgent dangers of a rules-based horror scenario. Probably won't last long.
Silently, Green continued watching.
Creak—
Another door opened.
"The lock on this one's broken."
A tall, young man—college-aged but already well-built—stepped out of Room 204.
His gaze swept the hallway, lingering briefly on the three people already present before shifting to the diagonally opposite Room 208, where a highly alert Maki Shijo had just emerged.
"Another newbie?"
The man's murmur caught Green's attention.
"You are...?"
Maki frowned. Though the man seemed unremarkable, she'd noticed the subtle shift in his expression—as if he'd been about to reveal something but forcibly suppressed it.
This man knows me. Not just in passing. He knows exactly who I am, and he's trying to hide it.
Her instincts screamed warning signs, and her guard shot up several levels.
The same realization dawned on Kaguya Shinomiya, who'd been momentarily stunned by the man's overly dramatic pose and lines. As the heiress of the Shinomiya Group, her sharp observational skills quickly picked up on the fact that he was using exaggerated actions to mask his emotional reaction. He not only recognizes me—he knows me well. Her wariness spiked, even sparking the thought of subduing him preemptively.
Not that Takakai could help it.
He knew the optimal play was to quickly establish trust, share intel, and rush to restrain Maeda Miwa before she could attract the entity. But unlike the clock's rewind, this still-mysterious reset ability was a true reset—no one but him remembered what had happened. Last time, gaining Maki and Kaguya's trust had taken considerable effort, and even then, it was only after Maki chose to believe him that Kaguya reluctantly accepted the alliance.
Now, having to rebuild that trust from scratch, the subtle tells from the reset had backfired spectacularly. Takakai couldn't help but think that among all the useless skills he'd picked up as a failed writer—investigation techniques, wilderness survival—acting might have been the one he needed most.
Still... it's good to see you safe and sound.
After handing Kaguya the rulebook, retrieving the supply box from under the bed (taking the earplugs), and grabbing the hallway clock, Takakai had stepped outside—only to freeze at the sight of Maki.
Despite his best efforts to mask it, a flicker of emotion had slipped through.
Of course she'd noticed.
Whatever. Some things are harder to hide the more you try.
She might not remember our shared ordeal, but seeing her unharmed eases my guilt a little.
This reset—even if I can't clear the scenario, I won't let you die before me again.
The resolve solidified in Takakai's mind.
He'd never considered himself a good person. In the previous loop, he'd genuinely contemplated killing Sun Dajun and Maeda Miwa—useless dead weight who only added complications. In life-or-death moments, he hadn't prioritized Kaguya or Maki's safety over his own survival.
But even so, he knew better than to treat those who'd shown him kindness with the same indifference.
Maki Shijo was undeniably an idiot. Taking a bullet for someone she'd known for mere hours? That kind of naivety was laughable.
But she took it for me. That's not something I can ignore.
"You..."
Maki instinctively stepped back.
Though Takakai had kept his emotions tightly controlled during his internal monologue, the perceptive girl had still caught something amiss.
Takakai paid it no mind, his attention already shifting to the hallway lined with tall cabinets.
Entering Room 205 now would let him restrain Maeda Miwa before she could lure the entity. But he couldn't pick locks, and this time, Green hadn't mistaken him for a veteran, so securing his help wouldn't be easy. More importantly, with nothing having happened yet, how could he convince everyone they needed to storm Room 205 immediately to neutralize the walking party-wipe?
Kaguya and Maki weren't fools, Green was a shrewd opportunist, and while Sun Dajun was a non-factor, the black guy had already sided with Old Guo. As for Old Guo himself—though Takakai would love to kill him, the man's supernatural items, handgun, explosives, and freakish durability (surviving multiple hits from a physical entity) made direct confrontation unwise.
So what now?
After a brief deliberation, Takakai made his move.
"You're Chinese too, right?"
Cutting off Old Guo before he could approach, Takakai directly addressed Sun Dajun.
He knew the middle-aged man was stubborn—even after seeing the Shirakawa Apartments' abnormalities, he'd refuse to believe it was a supernatural scenario unless confronted with undeniable proof. Under normal circumstances, Takakai would avoid him like the plague.
But Sun Dajun was Room 206's occupant.
Entering a room without its original resident could be dangerous, so Takakai needed him as a guide.
"Y-you too? So... is this really some kind of reality show? Which production team would do something this outrageous..."
Recognizing Takakai's accent, Sun Dajun brightened slightly before nervously voicing his suspicions.
"Who knows? But I found some weird stuff in my room. Yours have anything like that?"
Keeping a straight face, Takakai spun his lie under Kaguya and Maki's suspicious gazes.
Old Guo frowned from a distance. He'd intended to approach the newcomers, but their apparent disinterest made him hesitate. Could he be a veteran too? The uncertainty kept him rooted in place, unlike last time when he'd immediately engaged.
As for Green—though he didn't vocalize it this time—his inability to decipher Takakai's motives and his dismissal of Kaguya and Maki as mere students led him to repeat his previous choice: retreating into his room and locking the door.
"You're saying there might be hidden cameras in my room?"
Sun Dajun's indignation was mounting, his anger at the imagined "production team" making him eager to tear Room 206 apart.
"Possibly. But they're usually well-hidden. We can look together."
Takakai's earnest delivery made the lie sound utterly convincing.
This guy's weird...
Kaguya's frown deepened as she observed the hallway, unable to make sense of Takakai's actions. Maki, equally puzzled, had already started toward him, ready to confront him directly.
Right on cue, the scream rang out.
From Room 205, Maeda Miwa—having woken to find the corpse under her bed—was shrieking loud enough for the entire second floor to hear. Soon, she'd burst into the hallway, her cries echoing throughout the building.
And then... the invisible thing would arrive.
"What was that?!"
Startled, Sun Dajun moved to investigate.
"You wanna play along with your kidnappers' script?"
Takakai's single sentence made Sun Dajun grit his teeth and turn back, unlocking Room 206's door instead.
Now fully convinced, Sun Dajun was determined to help "find the hidden cameras."
"Miss Shinomiya. Miss Shijo."
After Sun Dajun entered, Takakai gripped the doorframe and turned to the two observing girls.
"I know I seem suspicious. Yes, I recognize you both, and I have some understanding of our current situation."
"You can choose not to believe me and follow the others. Or we can cooperate briefly. The choice is yours."
"Time's limited. You've been watching long enough—made your decision? Heiresses of the Shinomiya and Shijo families?"
The provocative phrasing made Kaguya narrow her eyes.
"Hah? Straight to the point, huh? Then why hide your reaction earlier? Saying all this now—you just want us to follow you inside, don't you?"
Maki called him out bluntly, her suspicion intensifying.
Getting caught was inevitable.
But getting caught didn't mean failure.
"You've got nerve. Think you can manipulate us? Identify yourself."
Kaguya's voice was ice-cold.
"Takakai. 'Lofty' Takai, 'Ocean' Kai. Seems you've decided, Miss Shinomiya."
Leaning against the doorframe, Takakai smirked—though internally, he was begging Maeda Miwa to stay inside a little longer, for the entity to delay its descent. Just a few more seconds to get them inside—
"Tch. Suspicious as you are, you don't seem like the mastermind. Fine, I'll see what you're up to."
In the end, though more distrustful than Maki, Kaguya's pride won out. She'd play along—for now. But unlike their previous temporary alliance, her guard was now sky-high, treating Takakai as a potential enemy.
"She's really going with him... Ugh, fine. Let's see what he's planning."
With Kaguya committed, Maki—though still wary—followed suit, both entering Room 206.
Finally—
Maeda Miwa's screams now filled the hallway.
The black guy was supporting her, turning to ask Old Guo something.
Knowing what came next, Takakai swiftly shut the door. No longer masking his expression, the fear on his face made Kaguya and Maki realize he'd been afraid of something outside—that provoking Kaguya had been a ploy to get them to safety.
"What's out there?"
Kaguya demanded immediately.
"You'll find out soon enough. Just don't open the door."
After locking it, Takakai headed deeper into Room 206, his tone deadly serious.
Thanks to his lies, Sun Dajun should have already found the room's supply box. If the earplugs were still there, they'd have two pairs—enough to improvise temporary protection with torn cloth.
According to Kyosuke's illusion, the only path to the first floor was in Room 206.
Hope this is the right call. Even with resets, the limited number is terrifying. The last thing I need is a chain of deaths piling up mental stress until I snap.
Just then, a voice echoed in Takakai's mind.
[Whatever your goal is, stay out of my way.]
Old Guo's voice. Cold. Direct.
[I don't care why you're here, but the core Obsessional Artifact of this apartment belongs to me—"Old Ghost Guo." Think carefully before crossing me.]
Hah?
He thinks I'm a rival veteran?
Wait, no—core Obsessional Artifact? That's what he was after last time?
The revelation stunned Takakai.
Meanwhile, Old Guo—having delivered his message—suddenly sensed something amiss and bolted toward Room 210.
Thud.
From the shadowed stairwell, slow, measured footsteps began descending—drawn inexorably toward Maeda Miwa's hysterical wails.