The crying outside the door hadn't stopped.
That idiot blonde Japanese woman, Maeda Miwa, was still wailing.
The corpse in the room must have given her quite the shock. Heh.
To Takakai, this "shock" was laughably trivial compared to the true horrors of Shirakawa Apartments.
But right now, no one would understand that.
As for the new intel he'd just obtained—whether about [Core Obsession Items] or that shady bastard Old Guo—Takakai had no time to analyze it carefully.
The immediate crisis took priority.
Haa…
His breathing steadied.
That thing had undoubtedly heard Maeda Miwa's screams by now.
It was descending the stairs.
Just like last time.
Step by step, methodical.
Then—silent slaughter.
This hurdle must be cleared.
Even if the difficulty this time was orders of magnitude higher than the previous loop.
Behind him, Kaguya and Maki's suspicious glares hadn't wavered.
Sun Dajun, who'd gone ahead to search for the "hidden reality show cameras," would soon come out to investigate when Takakai failed to follow.
Click—
A faint door shut.
The black guy outside started shouting, his words muffled but his confusion clear.
Time's running out.
Without foreknowledge of his rewind ability—and burdened by the memory of being boiled alive—Takakai hadn't adjusted well post-reset.
His odd behavior earlier? A coping mechanism.
His terrible acting? Full of holes.
Result? Zero trust from Kaguya and Maki.
Sun Dajun was barely humoring him.
Most anomalies in Shirakawa Apartments were instant-death traps.
And Maeda Miwa?
A walking party wipe from minute one.
Her scream had summoned something unfathomably dangerous.
Even with a rewind, this remained the run's biggest obstacle.
No wonder he was stuck in this mess.
Tch.
There was no [secret only trusted people would know] to convince Kaguya.
Even if there were, her paranoid nature would make her doubly suspicious.
Which left one crude, direct solution.
Show them the truth.
Then rewind before it's too late.
A wasted rewind?
Unavoidable.
"Takakai, why're you still in the hallway? I didn't find any cameras inside. You sure they're there?"
Sun Dajun emerged from the living room, his face pale.
His expression flickered between fear and dawning horror.
Deep down, he'd probably known this wasn't a reality show.
But denial was a powerful thing.
Takakai's lie had been a lifeline—one now snapped.
"Find the corpse?" Takakai asked bluntly.
"Wh-what? That thing in the cabinet… No way, that's really…?"
Sun Dajun shuddered violently.
Ah.
So Room 206's corpse was… abstract enough to make even a grown man question his sanity.
Come to think of it…
Last loop, Lao Guo's reaction to Room 210 had been odd.
As the "owner," he shouldn't have been vulnerable to its corpse.
Yet he'd warned Takakai: "Don't go to 210. Beware the bodies."
At the time, Takakai assumed it was veteran intuition.
But Old Guo's "I've been waiting for this apartment" line suggested something else.
Was he never recognized as an [owner]?
Did he come here deliberately?
Then there was Room 204—where he and Kaguya had woken up.
The only room:
Without a corpse.
With two players.
Another anomaly.
Or is the problem… one of us?
Thoughts raced.
But Takakai's expression remained steel.
He slipped in earplugs—loosely for now—then held out a second pair to Kaguya and Maki.
"We all heard that voice. The one that forced us into this Sacrifice Game."
"Mr. Sun, you probably just found the loss of control terrifying."
"But Shinomiya-san, Shijou-san—you two must realize: That wasn't humanly possible."
"Earlier, you doubted me because I recognized you. I admit that."
"But the reason I know you? We've already survived this apartment together."
"You just don't remember—because you died here."
His tone was dead serious.
Naturally, no one believed him.
"Nonsense. Are you seriously trying to gaslight me with this drivel?"
Kaguya's gaze turned dangerous. She was ready to subdue him on the spot.
From her perspective, this man reeked of deceit.
Was this all his doing?
"Wait, wasn't this a reality show? What're you saying now?!"
Sun Dajun floundered, his fear mounting.
Only Maki stayed silent, studying Takakai.
Like Kaguya, she was a genius—but unlike her, she hadn't been raised in a vipers' nest of paranoia.
She trusted her judgment.
And right now?
Takakai believed every word he said.
No hesitation. No tells.
What's going on?
Her brow furrowed.
Meanwhile—
The hallway outside had gone dead silent.
Maeda Miwa and the black guy were already dead.
And with only a door separating them?
Their voices had been heard.
"The people in the hallway are dead. That thing will find us next."
Takakai took a deep breath.
"Sound is its vector. So I'm putting in earplugs."
He gestured to the pair in his palm.
"You want proof? Have one person wear these."
"One hears. One doesn't. The truth will be obvious."
He waited.
"Ridiculous. If you want verification, just open the door."
Kaguya moved to do exactly that.
"..."
Sun Dajun backed away, shell-shocked.
That left one person.
The one Takakai was really waiting for.
"Fine. Let's see what you're playing at."
Maki took the earplugs.
"Maki—?!"
Kaguya frowned.
"This guy looks genuinely desperate. His story's insane, but he believes it utterly."
Maki smirked.
"And there are too many oddities here."
"Auntie, barging out is the simplest solution—but also the riskiest."
"Unless… the main family's courage can't match a branch family's?"
With that jab, she sealed her ears.
Takakai did the same.
Silence.
The specialized earplugs blocked all sound.
He could see Kaguya's lips moving three meters away—but heard nothing.
Is it coming?
His eyes locked on the door.
[...]
No sound.
Yet Kaguya and Sun Dajun both turned toward it.
[...]
Still nothing.
But dust shook loose as the rusted door trembled.
[...]
Kaguya was speaking rapidly—to someone.
Sun Dajun joined in.
Absolute silence.
Only his own heartbeat remained.
Maki leaned against the wall, observing.
Takakai gripped the wall clock, waiting.
Just like last time—
—when that thing had spoken directly into their minds.
Kaguya suddenly whirled toward him, her mouth forming urgent words.
Lip-reading?
Not his forte.
No clue what she said.
The hallway stayed eerily normal.
No fractures. No quakes. No door breaking.
Nothing.
Sun Dajun stepped closer, also speaking.
But Takakai ignored him, focusing on Maki.
She'd been staring at… a wall?
Weird.
Then—
She met his gaze.
And spoke.
Oddly, her lip movements didn't match Japanese.
They matched Chinese.
Clear enough for him to understand:
[Why won't you open the door for us?]
Huh?
Then—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sound pierced his earplugs.
Voices followed:
[Hello? Anyone home?]
Knock. Knock. Knock.
[I'm your new neighbor. Are you there?]
Knock. Knock. Knock.
[Who dumped trash at your door? Come out and see!]
Knock. Knock. Knock.
[Scrap collection! Any scrap to sell?]
Knock. Knock. Knock.
[Think we don't know you're home? Open up! How dare you owe our boss money this long!]
The knocks escalated to pounding.
The excuses grew angrier.
But the outcome was always the same:
They didn't need an invitation.
They'd break in regardless.
"Tch."
Takakai flicked open a lighter—
—and burned his finger.
Pain.
Clarity returned.
Sun Dajun was at the door, hand on the knob.
Kaguya staggered toward it, dazed.
Maki had collapsed, writhing as if her body was tearing apart.
None were where they'd been seconds ago.
Illusions.
Those moving lips?
Traps.
That thing from the stairs was far stronger than the ghosts of its victims.
No wonder the hallway was suicide.
You needed two closed doors for safety.
Takakai moved.
Maki's mind was already fighting free—he could tell.
So first:
A punch to Kaguya's gut.
"Ghk—!"
Her eyes snapped clear.
Next:
Tackle Sun Dajun.
A slap. No effect.
Then—
CRACK.
A fist to the jaw.
A tooth flew.
Recognition flashed in Sun Dajun's eyes.
But the illusions were deepening.
Takakai's skin split in phantom agony.
The knocking grew louder.
So—
He shoved the wall clock into Sun Dajun's arms.
If Lao Guo could use the black guy to turn the clock…
Then—
Click.
Sun Dajun's finger moved the clock hand.
Darkness.
Silence.
Then—
Takakai bolted upright in bed.
He sprinted to the living room door—
—and yanked it open.
The wall clock hung innocently.
Not a skull-clock.
So it only affects whoever touches the hands directly?
"Ugh…"
Kaguya groaned behind him.
When he turned, her face was pale with terror.
Huh. She's kinda cute when scared.
A sadistic smirk tugged at his lips.
"Convinced now?"
He waved the clock tauntingly.
Without waiting, he strode into the hallway.
Time for round two.