The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, absurdly contrasting with what the three were about to witness.
The hotel lobby was bathed in a reddish gloom, as if the lights themselves had been soaked in blood. An unnatural silence reigned, broken only by the sound of Vergil's footsteps echoing against the polished marble… until then.
The smell came first — iron, rot, and bile, mixed into a nauseating cocktail. Kaguya covered her mouth with both hands, stumbling backward before even—
Sapphire, eyes wide with curiosity, commented casually, "This… is really the work of an amateur, right?" She was completely indifferent to the deaths around her.
Vergil narrowed his eyes, analyzing the surroundings.
The reception had turned into a slaughterhouse.
