Usagi's face tensed when she saw the gaunt figure that had appeared before them. Instinctively, she moved to Yuta's side, cautiously observing the stranger who had just stepped into their space, and she raised her shotgun without thinking.
Yuta didn't hesitate. His body reacted before his mind did—he aimed his shotgun and analyzed the man's every movement. There were no signs of immediate aggression, but the tension in the air was heavy.
After a few seconds, Yuta took a step forward, though he didn't fully lower his guard.
"Got any more weapons, friend?" Yuta asked firmly.
The man's gaze dropped slightly toward his waist, then he nodded slowly.
"Don't shoot," the man said in a hoarse, almost whispering voice. "I've got two days left… and I don't even have the courage to keep playing."
Yuta frowned. Those words made him stop. "Two days"… "keep playing." It was the first concrete clue he had heard since waking up in that world. If he wanted answers, he had to keep the man alive.
"Look, I'll lower my weapon if you put yours on the ground," Yuta said in a calm tone as he slowly lowered his shotgun. "I'm not your enemy. I just want answers."
The first step was earning his trust. If Yuta wanted information, he needed to lower the man's defenses—to make him believe his goal wasn't to harm, but to understand.
Usagi watched in silence. Her surprised expression showed that she understood Yuta's strategy: not to confront, but to open a line of communication.
"How have you been these days?" Yuta asked softly.
It seemed like a trivial question, but it was useful. If the man answered, he might reveal fragments of information that could be crucial.
The stranger let out a dry, broken laugh. "These days?" he repeated, with a hint of madness. "Ha, ha, ha! Now I get it… you've just arrived in this world, haven't you?"
Yuta exchanged a glance with Usagi. "This world? How long have you been here?"
"A week, at least," the man replied, still chuckling under his breath. "You know what's funny? I can't keep playing those games anymore… I'm done."
He pulled the gun from his waist—still in its holster—and tossed it to Yuta. Then, he reached into his pockets and threw two magazines onto the ground in front of them.
"If you want to live," the man said in a low, emotionless voice, "you have to play. If your visa hits zero… you're dead."
Yuta took a step toward him. "Wait! What are those games?"
But before he could get closer, Usagi stopped him, gripping his arm. "It's pointless. Look at him. He's lost the will to live, and we can't change that now."
Yuta clenched his jaw. He knew she was right. As much as he wanted more answers, that man was at the edge of despair; his mind had likely collapsed long ago.
The stranger turned around and began to walk away, staggering until he disappeared into the shadows of the street. Yuta watched in silence before lowering his weapon.
His eyes then fell on the pistol and the magazines the man had left behind. It was a 9mm, with a capacity of thirteen rounds per magazine—thirty shots in total. Not ideal, but far from useless… especially in a place like that, where any sound could mean danger.
"Let's get out of here," Yuta said finally, slipping the pistol into his belt. He grabbed the shotgun and led the way to their next stop: food.
They walked in silence for several minutes. The echo of their footsteps was the only sound breaking the stillness of the dead city.
"That man said he'd been here for more than a week, but the place doesn't show it. That's strange," Usagi said, breaking the silence. "What do you think those games are? And the visa?"
Yuta glanced at her briefly before replying, "The visa might be a timer… maybe for one's life span. But I don't know if it represents that exactly, or something more complex."
There was no point in speculating further without more information. For now, survival was the priority. The answers would come later.
When they finally found a convenience store, they entered cautiously. Everything seemed intact—the shelves were full, the lights off, the air heavy with abandonment.
"Let's focus on water and canned goods," Yuta said as he walked down the aisles. "They're the safest."
Usagi nodded and began filling her backpack with sealed canned food. Yuta, meanwhile, handled the water—filling bottles and grabbing instant noodles. They worked in silence, each lost in thought.
As they packed supplies, both of them reflected on the pieces of the puzzle beginning to take shape: games, visas, survival. Nothing made sense yet, but every word, every detail, brought them closer to a truth they couldn't yet see.
"This should be enough for a while," Usagi said at last, closing her backpack. "Let's find a high place, like you mentioned. We need to observe the city from above."
Yuta nodded. He slung his backpack over his shoulders, grabbed the shotgun, and a faint smile crossed his face.
"Games and visas…" Yuta murmured, a spark of interest in his eyes. "This is getting interesting."
Together, they left the store. The silence of Tokyo enveloped them as they moved forward—alert, uncertain of when they might encounter another human being… or something far worse.