Something unnatural lingered in the air.
Hayasaka, with her ordinary perception, noticed only that the room had warmed slightly.
But Takakai couldn't ignore it.
This wasn't just the Butcher's presence—it was the dungeon itself, undergoing a transformation he hadn't—couldn't—detect before.
It was like a mirror in a room.
At first, its presence was unremarkable. Then it vanished, and though its absence was noted, it didn't feel wrong—because you knew you had moved it.
But then, one day, it reappeared without explanation.
That inescapable sense of presence was how Takakai knew—
The Butcher had returned.
"It's… back?!"
Hayasaka's voice was shaking, her face pale.
The days trapped in the dog cage had left deep scars—even the thought of the Butcher was enough to choke her.
"Don't panic. We're not defenseless."
Takakai checked his pistol as they stepped into the warping hallway.
10 Suppression Bullets—fully replenished.
Even if the Butcher came face-to-face with them, Takakai was confident he could seal it again.
Now that he understood its past, the bullets would be even more effective—perhaps two or three shots would be enough.
And more importantly—
He understood what the Butcher represented in this dungeon.
Crunch. Crunch.
Their footsteps echoed through the distorting corridor.
Walls, floors, ceilings—everything was shattering, twisting, merging into incomprehensible shapes.
Like stepping into a kaleidoscope.
Hayasaka's breathing grew ragged.
She could hear them now—
Screeching.
Laughing.
Whispering.
Voices clawing at her ears, as if standing right beside her.
"Don't focus on them. Look at me."
Takakai's voice cut through the noise, sharp as a blade.
His crimson eyes burned into hers—Blessing of Berserk's mental shock jolting her awake.
Then—
He yanked her forward, dragging her along as the world collapsed around them.
Her mental resistance is too weak.
Takakai's grip tightened.
Even with his willpower sharing, Hayasaka was barely holding on.
Unlike him—tempered by Twilight and Midnight dungeons—she had no resistance to this level of cognitive corruption.
The blood vial could restore her sanity, but if she broke again…
Just hold on a little longer.
The hallway shattered further.
Light and darkness swirled together, fragments of walls, doors, furniture dissolving into abstract shapes.
Yet—
Some structures remained intact.
The military barracks, the research buildings—they resisted the distortion, anchored in place.
The Butcher's power couldn't fully overwrite the dungeon's depths.
It was just one part of the mechanism.
And that meant—
The twisting would grow worse.
Giggle. Giggle.
Children's voices bubbled up from the darkness.
Hayasaka clenched her eyes shut, but the voices only grew louder.
[Look! A new classmate!]
[Ooooh, she's so close to the teacher~]
[Does she like him?]
[But the Butcher's coming~ They'll be puppies soon!]
[Run run run! If you don't wanna be eaten, RUN!]
She remembered these voices—
Faint, muffled when she first arrived.
Now—crystal clear.
She could picture their faces.
"Takakai-san—"
"I know. Stay calm."
The hallway ahead was familiar—the same one where Takakai had hallucinated a "friend" after looking into a mirror.
Now, that mirror lay shattered, shards scattered across the floor.
Each fragment could potentially manifest another "friend."
No way to cross safely.
Options:
Behind them: A bathroom leading to a nap room.
Left: The school's first-floor lobby—where the Butcher lurked.
Right: A dilapidated lounge, connecting to the office, classrooms, and the starting bedroom.
The Butcher was closing in.
Hiding in the surface layer wouldn't work.
So—
"This way. Move!"
Takakai hauled Hayasaka to the right, bursting into the small lounge, then sprinting for the bedroom.
The knocking was still there.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The thing outside the window—
The one so blatantly out of place in this dungeon.
The one Takakai had never interacted with—until now.
"Stay back. Watch the door."
Hayasaka nodded, gripping the rifle tightly as Takakai jumped onto the bed, yanked the curtains open—
And stared into the eyes of the bloody-faced girl tapping on the glass.
Then—
He opened the window.
No one was there.
Just rain, gray mist, and emptiness.
From inside, the window showed a rain-soaked street.
From outside? Nothing.
Takakai didn't hesitate.
He leaned out, upper body submerged in the fog.
Only cold raindrops hit his face.
No ground.
No buildings.
Just void.
He twisted, trying to look back inside from the outside—
And saw nothing.
Just black blocks—like glitched textures in a broken game.
The edge of the dungeon.
The surface layer was a patchwork of memories—the Butcher's twisted recollections of the school, stitched together with the fragmented experiences of its victims.
Areas no one paid attention to were crude, undefined.
And if this was the surface…
Where was thetruedungeon hidden?
[Takakai-kun~]
A voice—sweet, familiar—rose from below.
The mist shuddered.
Too late to retreat.
Two pale handsslid over Takakai's shoulders.
Kaguya's smiling face emerged from the fog, fingers creeping toward his neck.
[Why did you run away?]
Her voice was soft, but the gash on her throat was unmistakable.
"Hayasaka. Jump. It's the only way out."
Takakai spoke calmly, before she could react.
Then—
Before Kaguya could wrench his head off—
He kissed her.
A quick, firm press of lips—
Then kicked off the bed, dragging her with him into the abyss below.
"TAKAKAI-SAN! SHINOMIYA-SAMA!"
Hayasaka lunged forward, scrambling onto the bed to peer down—
Click.
The bedroom door creaked open behind her.