"Break open the sealed windows and climb out."
Hayasaka blinked at Takakai's words but nodded, not seeing any issue with the plan. After all, the last time Takakai had led her through the distorted space outside the windows, she had been in a deep, infant-like slumber.
But Takakai knew better.
This was not a good idea.
Their previous escape through the window had seemed safe—but only because Takakai had managed to find a door, allowing him to use the Blood Key, his ultimate escape tool. Without a quick exit, getting trapped in that warped white void for too long would be... unpredictable.
But now?
It didn't matter.
This playthrough was already a failure. There was no chance of clearing it, and even if there were, Takakai wouldn't take it. His usual cautious approach no longer applied.
Survival was no longer a priority.
So why not take risks?
If the outcome was already doomed, he might as well go all out.
"Rest for ten minutes. Eat something."
Takakai tossed Hayasaka a pack of compressed biscuits and a bottle of water. The golden-haired maid caught them and quickly finished them off before sitting cross-legged on the floor, mirroring Takakai's posture.
Silence.
Only the knocking persisted.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Rhythmic. Unrelenting. Like a machine programmed to continue until the end of time.
Hayasaka didn't turn her head.
She knew that if she so much as glanced sideways, she would see the small window on the door—and through it, Shinomiya-sama's face.
So she couldn't.
She couldn't face the person who was no longer the mistress she knew.
Stop. Stop thinking about it.
Takakai-san said he could bring her back. He said he has a [final plan]. I have to believe him. That's all I can do now.
I have to… trust him…
Hayasaka curled in on herself slightly, a wave of helplessness washing over her.
All her years of training, all her skills, all her knowledge—useless in this twisted, nightmare school.
When real danger came, she had been knocked out and carried like luggage.
She had been the first one shoved into a safe room.
No matter how hard she tried, she was still just a stubborn child, unable to stand beside the adults.
And now…
She couldn't even protect Shinomiya-sama.
She remembered Takakai's soft sigh when they had reunited.
Shinomiya-sama had already become one of them—hours ago. While Hayasaka had been hiding in the cafeteria, while she had been following Takakai in a desperate escape, her mistress had already been lost.
In this Sacrifice Game, it seemed she was utterly powerless.
For a moment, Hayasaka was on the verge of tears.
But in the end, she just sat there, silent.
Only her shoulders trembled slightly.
Takakai, resting and recovering his stamina, noticed her reaction. He could guess what she was thinking.
If he remembered correctly, the original Hayasaka Ai—despite her perfect, ever-changing maid persona—was, at her core, just a crybaby. A side of her that only Shinomiya and her mother had ever seen. By the time she became the all-capable maid, that weakness had been buried deep.
So this was a rare sight, huh?
...Wait, no.
The original manga did have a moment where Shinomiya sent Hayasaka to seduce the president, and when she failed, she cried in frustration.
But seriously—what kind of logic was "Hey, go seduce the guy I like"?!
Was this just a Japanese thing?
Despite the dire situation, Takakai's mind remained steady, even allowing him to rant internally.
Alright, break's over. Time to move.
Nearly 20 hours had passed since entering this place. Factoring in the real-world time dilation, Takakai estimated he had one or two hours before the Suppression Bullets in his pistol replenished—giving him 10 more shots to seal anomalies.
And the Butcher he had sealed earlier?
It should be breaking free soon.
With the entire dungeon now completely scrambled, he wondered how that thing would reappear.
"Alright, let's get moving."
Takakai stood and strode toward the windows, still boarded up with wooden planks.
Hayasaka, snapping out of her thoughts, hurried after him.
Takakai didn't hesitate.
He grabbed a protruding nail on one of the planks and—
Click.
It came out easily.
Huh?
Given that this dungeon operated on children's perceptions and beliefs, Takakai had expected more resistance. But the nails came out effortlessly.
Click. Click. Click.
One after another, he pried them free.
Is it because nailing the windows shut doesn't actually stop anomalies? It just blocks sight? So in the kids' minds, it's something that can be easily broken?
Takakai worked faster, soon removing an entire plank.
Dust scattered as he set the wood aside.
Through the dim light from outside, he could see several headless figures in researcher uniforms, standing motionless.
These things outside the windows had always appeared headless. They seemed to have no awareness—except when someone looked through the window, or possibly when physically touched.
Why are they headless?
Takakai recalled the headless students he had seen in the Alice illusion at the residential area.
Those had been high schoolers.
Shirasawa Elementary. Fujika Academy. Yoruyama High.
The three schools were deeply connected.
Was the headless mechanism here related to Yoruyama High?
And Shinomiya—she had been decapitated, then reattached her head, becoming one of those "believing they're alive" anomalies.
These researchers, though, had no heads to reclaim, leaving them in this stiff, inactive state.
Then there were the body-swapping anomalies he'd encountered.
Were these all variations of the same phenomenon?
As he pondered, Takakai climbed out the window.
Hayasaka followed, confused as to why Takakai hadn't knocked her out this time, but she obeyed without question.
"Don't touch those things. Find a door and get out."
Takakai didn't look back, speaking casually as he felt Hayasaka's gaze.
Just like before, this was a vast white space, filled with twisted, distorted objects.
But last time, Takakai had been alone and conscious, and the place hadn't felt too abnormal.
Now, with Hayasaka also awake, he immediately noticed something critical.
[...Hah...]
A labored breathing sound came from the severed heads scattered around.
The headless researchers turned, their bodies now facing Takakai.
Because Hayasaka was looking at him.
Because he had been observed.
Because he had been noticed.
The moment that happened—
They locked onto him.
A piercing sensation of being watched came from every direction.
Even if Hayasaka looked away now, their gaze wouldn't release him.
"So this place really doesn't like outsiders, huh?"
Takakai, already sensing the approaching anomalies, grabbed Hayasaka, slinging her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
"Hold on. Try not to puke."
Then—
BOOM.
He sprinted forward, accelerating like a human bullet.
The sudden G-forces hit Hayasaka like a malfunctioning drop tower ride—no, ten times worse.
Ten minutes later.
A rotting door was kicked open.
Takakai burst into the room, spun, yanked out the Blood Key, and slammed the door shut.
Then he dropped Hayasaka, who stumbled, barely catching herself on the wall.
"You good?"
Takakai's question was perfunctory as he scanned the room.
It looked familiar—similar to the small bedroom he had woken up in at the start of the dungeon.
But this one was more decayed, and clearly modified by later occupants.
The windows were completely sealed, curtains nailed over wooden planks to ensure no outside view.
The single bed had been flipped upright, forming a barricade, with bedding piled behind it.
Next to it lay an old hunting rifle.
A large bookshelf had been moved to the side and laid flat on the floor.
By the door—the only entrance—were overturned cans, some still attached to strings.
Likely an alarm system.
Strangely, the computer from the surface world's room was missing, along with any wiring.
Another survivor's hideout?
The place seemed long abandoned. Takakai circled the room, finding no immediate threats.
Since he had used the Blood Key with the intent to "enter a safe hiding spot", this place should be secure.
(Though it had taken three attempts—the first two doors had something trying to burst out the moment he opened them. If not for his reflexes, he'd have reset by now.)
Clatter.
He tossed the 20-sided die, checking the number before relaxing.
"You can rest," he told Hayasaka, who was still fighting dizziness.
Then he approached the rifle behind the barricade.
"Huh. An Obsession Artifact."
He racked the bolt, ejecting a gleaming brass round—which vanished in his hand.
This gun could "repel" the active anomalies in this dungeon—specifically, the headless researchers.
A hit would temporarily convince them they were "dead", forcing them to stop moving for a while.
The side effects were unclear, but Takakai suspected it might run out of ammo after a certain number of shots—and firing it empty could have consequences.
Might as well let Hayasaka use it. Give her some firepower.
As he considered this, he noticed a small notebook beside the rifle.
He picked it up.
Survivor's notes.
Not much, but enough to piece together a few things.