Chapter 2: Director, Can I Change Scenes?
Kaito had a dream.
He dreamed he had become the harem emperor of a 2D fanfiction, effortlessly conquering hundreds of beautiful girls, cycling through them one a day for a year without repetition, indulging in an utterly hedonistic and blissful lifestyle.
No one could stand against him, no one could disrupt his rhythm. Because he possessed a supreme system that granted him limitless power and wealth just by daily check-ins—a system that could even transform into various girls to accompany him. Whether it was silver-haired lolis, black-stockinged mature women, or busty babes, everything was available, encompassing all desires.
All he had to do every day was indulge to his heart's content—indulge until he soared, indulged until he passed out, then continued indulging in dreams within dreams, waking up only to indulge again.
Ah...
Such a life was truly, truly...
And then he woke up.
That excessively depraved dream—so depraved Kaito feared it might summon Slaanesh the very next day if it were real—dissipated like an illusory mirage, leaving not a trace behind.
In its place was a chilling atmosphere, a sensation of being wrapped in cold air as if inside an air-raid shelter.
What was going on?
Before opening his eyes, Kaito had already caught a whiff of something—a musty odor, like something moldering.
No, it was closer to the scent of slightly rotting wood in a damp environment, mixed with a faint dustiness, the kind of smell only found in long-abandoned, uninhabited houses.
So... where am I?
Kaito opened his eyes.
An unfamiliar ceiling.
The white walls were covered in mottled cracks, with exposed wires nailed directly to them, connecting to a hanging light fixture. The bulb looked like an old-fashioned incandescent one, its surface coated in dust, obscuring the interior structure—impossible to tell if it still worked or was broken.
On one side of the room, two windows were boarded up with wooden slats and covered with white cloth, the edges nailed down, allowing only faint light to seep through. It was impossible to see outside, but judging by the brightness, it was likely still daytime.
The gaze continued to shift, moving past the wall where most of the paint had peeled away to expose the brick structure beneath, and settled on a small round table in one corner of the tiny living room. The table was low, flanked by two small wooden stools—one of which had a broken leg and lay toppled over. On the table sat a pot of withered plants, their species now indistinguishable.
Beside the table, the wall appeared to have once held a door, but it had since been removed, leaving only the frame behind. Through the empty doorway, a small kitchen was visible, its sink piled high with dusty dishes and utensils.
At the far end of the wall near the head of the bed stood an old wooden door, cracked diagonally down the middle. If anyone stood outside, they could easily peer inside through the fissure. A small nightstand sat at both the head and foot of the bed. Kaito noticed a sheet of A4 printer paper on the nightstand beside the pillow, densely covered in handwritten text. Unlike the other objects in the room, the paper bore little dust, as if it had been placed there recently.
This place looked like a small, long-abandoned rental apartment.
Why had he suddenly appeared here?
A kidnapping?
No, that didn't make sense. The last thing he remembered before blacking out held no signs of an attack.
And now, there was clearly another person beside him.
Kaito could hear the other's breathing, could smell the faint fragrance of women's shampoo.
A woman was lying next to him, sharing the same bed in this dilapidated, run-down room.
Her breathing had changed the moment he turned his head to survey the room—she was likely pretending to sleep now.
A honey trap?
Wait, is kidnapping someone from their home and then setting up a honey trap even a thing? That doesn't seem right.
Either way, he needed to get up and assess the situation. If this really was a honey trap, then he'd have no choice but to engage in a dark duel right here. He'd heard this was the best way for young men in Japan to deal with such schemes, and Kaito figured the experience was worth learning.
Bzzz—
But before Kaito could act, a sharp, grating noise—like nails scraping against a chalkboard—suddenly echoed in his mind.
In that instant, his body locked up, completely paralyzed. He could only listen as the piercing sound reverberated in his skull.
Bzzz—
The agonizing noise lasted a full ten seconds before finally fading.
Then came a voice—impossible to distinguish in gender or origin—so distorted that just hearing it sent chills down his spine.
[Welcome to the Sacrifice Game.]
The first sentence sounded oddly familiar, as if he'd just heard it moments ago.
[Player Kaito, this is your first game. Game Level: Twilight.]
[Your objective: Escape from Shirakawa Apartments.]
[Time limit for this game: Seven days.]
[Now delivering game hints. Please make good use of them.]
[Hint 1: The path to survival lies within the messages left behind.]
[Hint 2: A door reopened will lead to hope.]
[Hint 3: Precious things hidden in dust bring happiness.]
[Hint 4: The secret lies in the one place you must never go.]
[Hints complete. May you pass this game and draw closer to the throne that witnesses the end.]
From start to finish, the voice had spoken for less than a minute.
After delivering those baffling, incomprehensible words, the eerie voice vanished without a trace. The stiffness that had locked Kaito's body also disappeared, and he regained control of his limbs.
"What the… hell…"
The abrupt return of his mobility sent Kaito tumbling off the bed. Mid-fall, he grabbed the A4 sheet on the nightstand, stuffed it into his shirt, then crashed onto the floor. He scrambled up, disheveled.
He was now certain—he'd been dragged into some kind of supernatural incident. And not just any incident, but the kind that could get him killed, something terrifyingly dark.
Wait, hold on, Director, this isn't right.
Didn't I transmigrate into a slice-of-life anime crossover world?
This development is completely off, isn't it? How did it suddenly turn into a death game scenario?
Can I get a refund? Can I quit acting? This plot has already exceeded my tolerance level, damn it! Why the sudden shift in tone? Can't we just stick to a straightforward harem story pandering to otaku?
Though internally ranting a storm, Kaito had already swiftly risen to his feet. Maintaining distance while not getting too close to the wooden door with a hole or the kitchen entrance, his gaze locked onto the bed in the corner of the small living room where he had been lying moments ago.
Then, he saw her—a girl with long, jet-black hair cascading down, her expression cold, eyes carrying a hint of frost and scrutiny as she sat up from the bed.
Red pupils.
A somewhat petite figure.
A black long-sleeved dress with white cuffs and a red ribbon tie.
This appearance, coupled with that trash-scorning gaze, instantly activated Kaito's DNA.
Isn't this... isn't this that photographer—no, wait, this state isn't that "Ice Kaguya," is it? The Kaguya Shinomiya from her "Ice Princess" days, before the student council president changed her.
What on earth has my isekai story turned into?!
At this moment, Kaito felt his mind spinning in confusion, unable to grasp what kind of protagonist he was supposed to be playing anymore.