Fridge Bro.
At first glance, the nickname made him seem like an ordinary guy. Well, to be fair, appearance-wise, he was pretty ordinary—just a frozen, stiff corpse, right?
But right now, in this distorted world, this guy had suddenly appeared, intercepting the two of them with the same wall-shattering charge as the Tyrant. This was not a small problem that could be brushed off lightly.
Crack—crack—
Shattered ice scattered across the floor.
The pale, rigid figure slowly raised its hand, as if trying to grab Takakai.
In the same instant, without even a second of hesitation, Takakai immediately turned and bolted, vanishing from the spot in a flash.
Carrying someone on his back while sprinting through this chaotic, labyrinthine terrain wasn't easy. But to avoid health problems from sitting too long while writing, Takakai had spent a lot of time working out before his transmigration, so his physique was much better than the average person's. Even now, he could keep going.
No footsteps echoed behind him.
That frozen corpse… didn't seem to be chasing him?
Takakai didn't dare stop to check.
In the dim hallway, the lights flickered weakly before going out, like blinking eyes.
No other sounds reached him.
It was as if the entire world had been reduced to just his own footsteps.
"Hah… hah…"
Deep breath.
Exhale.
His feet landed on the debris-strewn hallway, littered with trash bags and broken concrete, before pushing off again.
Takakai adjusted his breathing and running rhythm, sprinting forward as fast as he could.
Where the hell is that clock?
Logically, if I get close enough, I should be able to sense the gaze of the Head Clock.
But I don't feel anything right now, which means there isn't one nearby. Or maybe I'm just not close enough. This damned place is huge—the clocks might be spaced far apart. I need to get closer to one of those areas first.
After weaving through another winding corridor, after dashing through an indescribably distorted passage—
Takakai's footsteps suddenly came to a halt.
"Shijou?"
The girl on his back had gone silent at some point.
Her body was turning cold.
By the time Takakai noticed, a thin layer of frost had already formed over Maki's body.
Crouching down, he pulled her into his arms.
Looking into her weak, unfocused eyes, he saw tiny ice crystals spreading across her skin, just like that corpse from the fridge—slowly freezing over.
"So… cold…"
Her voice was hoarse, all her usual vigor gone.
"...So the corpses that escape their rooms can inflict their manner of death on others? Or is it because she woke up in that room, because she's its 'owner,' that she's suffering the same fate? But then what about the two corpses in 205? The woman died from suffocation, and the man seemed to have been killed by supernatural means. No… actually, I can't even be sure whether the one that came out of 205 was the male corpse or the female one."
Muttering to himself, Takakai gently laid the stiffening girl down and gripped her frozen, rigid hand.
"Go…"
Her lips barely moved, her voice almost inaudible.
"Yeah. Sorry. I'm leaving first."
He didn't look at the tears frozen in her eyes. Didn't look at the proud girl's final expression of fear and pain.
Takakai exhaled softly, stood up, and stepped around the now-completely frozen girl, continuing his sprint down the hallway.
He knew his own ending wouldn't be good.
After struggling this far in this cursed apartment, after pushing himself to the limit—
This story of a transmigrator's adventure in a shitty, rules-based horror game was probably about to reach its finale.
How pathetic.
A transmigrator who dreamed of being a harem protagonist, yet ended up watching a beautiful girl die right in front of him.
But even so, just giving up without a fight?
That's still unacceptable.
Even if it's futile…
Takakai changed direction.
He looped back, running toward the blood-red door of Room 304 he'd seen earlier.
Even if it was meaningless, before he died, he had to see what lay in the deepest part of this hellhole—that Room 304, the one place he was never supposed to go.
Crack—
A sound like something breaking.
Takakai instinctively turned his head—
And saw the frozen male corpse.
And beside it, the girl, now also turned into a frozen corpse.
The two figures stepped through an open doorway together…
And vanished.
The corpse from the room manifested, replicated its death onto the 'owner' of that room—Maki—and then took her away.
Is it bringing her back to 208?
So the rule about staying in [your own room] at night for safety… that's what it meant?
When the room's owner stays inside, the corpse acts as protection. But once they leave, the corpse chases them down, dragging them back while displaying dangerous supernatural abilities that kill them in the process?
There was no way to verify these thoughts now.
Takakai was just letting his mind wander in his final moments.
What will I see next?
If I open that door… what's behind it?
His feet kept moving, carrying him forward.
He felt ready to face anything.
Until—
A small figure stepped into his path.
[Big brother, why didn't you come home at night?]
A child in clean, pretty clothes looked up at him, tilting its head innocently.
A… child?
Takakai's steps slowed to a stop.
[People who don't come home at night are naughty children.]
Giggling voices whispered in his ears.
Children…?
Children in clean, pretty clothes.
Laughing happily.
Eating sweet cake.
Holding lovely toys.
Standing in front of him, laughing—
Laughing.
[Naughty children who don't come home are bad. Very, very bad.]
More childish laughter rose around him.
In the disorienting, flickering light of the hallway, Takakai turned his head—
And saw children running past him.
Are they… children?
He couldn't see their faces clearly.
They just kept laughing.
Laughing so, so happily.
Laughing as they ran past, one after another.
[Naughty children don't come home.]
The voices echoed in his skull.
[Naughty children don't come home~]
Giggles bubbled up.
[Big brother is a naughty child. A bad child.]
Clapping. Jumping joyfully.
They surrounded him, one after another, looking up at him—
Letting Takakai finally see them.
These adorable, adorable children.
[Naughty children must be punished.]
A stumble.
A fall, amidst the sound of laughter.
The children's faces grinned at him—
No, were they even grinning?
Had they ever had expressions at all?
His left hand erupted in pain again.
But… it didn't actually hurt that much.
It didn't even feel unbearable.
No—
No, that's wrong—
Takakai strained to keep his eyes open, to see—
Darkness.
Pitch-black, suffocating darkness.
He reached out—
And touched only walls.
Front, back, left, right, below, above…
All walls.
Pressing against him from every direction, leaving no room to move.
Why am I here?
Was I… going somewhere?
What did I see?
He couldn't remember clearly. Just the sound of children laughing.
Laughing, saying—
[Naughty children must be punished.]
Splash—
Scalding water poured onto Takakai's shoulders.
"GAAAH—!"
The pain ripped a scream from his throat.
Boiling liquid seeped through his clothes, blistering his skin.
[Ahahahaha—!]
The children clapped and laughed.
Splash—
More scalding water rained down on his head, drenching him.
"AGHH—! STOP—!"
Agony.
Thrashing.
But there was no escape.
In this sealed, dark space, there was nowhere to hide.
Splash—
More boiling water.
[Ahahahahaha—!]
More laughter.
Splash—
The children sang.
Splash—
They danced.
Splash—
They spun, round and round, giggling as they circled the punished naughty child.
Splash—
The water began to overflow.
Hair floated out.
Skin peeled away.
Fat and meat sloughed off, swirling in the current.
Gurgle—
The tiny box filled with boiling water no longer echoed with screams.
The tiny person inside, submerged in the scalding liquid, bobbed limply to the surface.
[Ehehe… ahahahaha—!]
The laughing children skipped away.
Are there any more naughty children who didn't come home tonight?
Ahaha—
Ahahahahaha—~
Their cheerful voices faded into the distance.
And the punished naughty child…
Just floated there silently.
Crack—crack—
A faint sound, barely audible.
Crack—crack—
On the ruined, boiled flesh of an arm…
A black wristwatch trembled.
Crack—crack—
Its lone hand twitched.
From the "0" mark.
From the mark that had never moved before…
It slowly, finally, began to turn.
In the dark red liquid.
In the bloody, suffocating soup.
It moved forward—
At last.
CRACK.
A crisp snap.
The black watch's hand…
Moved from 0…
To 1.