Consciousness felt split in two.
One half was trapped in that twisted room—held down by pale hands as boiling water poured over his body.
The other half stumbled through the fractured hallway of the third floor, wearing that filthy rescue uniform, limping through the ruins with no exit.
Pain eroded his will.
The agony of division made thoughts increasingly chaotic, as if teetering on the edge of madness.
"Hah... ah..."
Takakai understood why this was happening.
By speaking the apartment's core taboo, he'd incurred its strongest curse—dragged directly into 304, the origin point of it all. There, the curse reenacted some past execution, torturing him to death.
Yet he hadn't died instantly.
Maybe his willpower held. Maybe because it was a prolonged execution, not instant death. Whatever the reason, he'd awakened just long enough to pin the rescue badge to himself.
That badge—a cursed object that gradually turned its wearer into part of the rescue team anomaly—had temporarily altered his "identity," buying him time.
But it wouldn't last.
He was too deep in the apartment's heart. Even disguised as part of the anomaly, the curse would eventually see through him.
The result?
He'd been torn in two.
Not physically, but in some inexplicable, conceptual way.
Right now, he could feel every second of his other self's torture—scalding water, needles stitching his lips, skin sloughing off.
Meanwhile, this version of him in the hallway was succumbing faster to the badge's corruption. Even without wearing it, voices crowded his mind:
"Evacuate the residents..."
"Go to the first floor..."
Hundreds of them, chanting, grinding his sanity to dust.
He was close to breaking.
But—
He was still lucid.
Even now, he could observe the veteran player Mayama thrashing in her own torment, boiled alive beside him.
Wait, is this how I died in the first loop? No—this is worse. At least then it was quick. This has been... what, fifteen minutes? Why aren't I dead yet?!
He wanted to laugh. All that came out was a weak gasp.
Footsteps echoed around him—invisible, untraceable.
Then—visions flashed:
People from across the world, dragged into this hell.
Their bodies fractured.
Their minds shattered.
Some became debt collectors, others friendly neighbors, most just dissolved into the building itself.
"Using 'actors' to recreate the apartment's memories?"
He was beginning to understand.
He'd seen the truth—the tragedy that birthed this nightmare.
A common tale of domestic abuse, yet somehow it spawned this unfathomable horror.
Reenactment. Interaction.
The apartment recreated the past in twisted ways, using interaction to spread its curse.
Speech was the strongest vector—maybe because the child had been so young?
If he could endure deeper corruption, could he uncover more secrets? Maybe even the core truth?
A nice thought.
But he was at his limit. Just staying conscious took everything he had.
"You went into 304... and came out alive?"
A surprised voice.
Takakai turned.
Guo stood there, holding a skinned head—its lipless mouth gnashing silently.
Just looking at it sent chills down Takakai's spine—but also cleared his mind slightly.
Different anomalies... cancel each other out?
He backed away warily.
"Relax," Guo sneered. "I don't waste effort on dead men. Once that curse takes hold, you're done. Hell, you're already leaking."
He pointed.
Boiling water seeped from Takakai's clothes, pooling on the floor.
"Thought you'd be competition. Instead, you just... walked into 304. Dumbass. Enjoy your last moments."
Guo turned to leave—
But the severed head in his grip kept staring at Takakai.
One word. Just say that name—
But Guo would kill him before he finished a syllable.
Then again... could he even die easily now?
Takakai followed.
Guo spun instantly, face dark. "I said don't waste my time."
The head dropped—vanishing midair.
"You—"
BANG! BANG!
Two shots—one through Takakai's mouth, the other his throat.
Guo knew the risks. No speaking. No invoking taboos.
It hurt.
But... he wasn't dying.
No suffocation, just pain.
I'm a rescuer now. Rescuers don't die easy. I'm Takakai. Still Takakai. Have to remember—
The thoughts slipped away.
Who... am I?
Why am I here?
CRUNCH.
Takakai collapsed—his right leg gone below the knee.
The skinned head chewed lazily by his stump.
Drip. Drip.
More water leaked from his uniform.
The transformation accelerated.
Evacuate... the building...
Kill... Guo...
No... I'm... what was I...?
His "other self" in 304 had finally died after fifteen minutes of torture.
Now, this version—tainted by the rescue badge—was fading too.
Guo watched coldly.
"A rescuer uniform spawning a cursed item? Interesting. Survive fatal wounds... useful."
To him, Takakai was already a corpse. Just wait for the conversion to finish, then loot the body.
Standard procedure.
Then—
Takakai looked up.
[I'm a rescuer. My duty is to save people.]
[I will save this man. I will take him out of Shirakawa Apartments.]
His gaze locked onto Guo.
He stood.
Wounds sealed.
Uniform fully formed.
"What?! No—conversion shouldn't be this fast!"
Guo fired—knees, chest, head.
No effect.
The skinned head lunged, bit Takakai's arm—then froze, dropping lifelessly.
Realization dawned:
Takakai had fully become part of the anomaly—and somehow targeted Guo with its rules.
How?! No one has that kind of willpower!
Guo tossed a grenade, diving behind a wall.
BOOM!
Debris flew.
As dust settled, a hand grabbed his collar.
CRACK!
Takakai's fist shattered Guo's jaw, teeth scattering.
[Don't be afraid.]
[I'm here to save you.]
Another punch.
Guo's face distorted grotesquely, lips twisting like a deranged puppet.