When the plot-skips players into the game world

"Heh... hah..."

Isabel gasped for air, taking huge breaths as she propped herself up against the wall and strained to move forward.

She had long since lost count of the number of times she had died and could no longer discern which dream layer she was in now.

It hurt so much...

Each death brought her intense punishment.

At first it was just some fever and weakness—painful and uncomfortable, yet she could indeed proceed with the investigation.

After the first time she was pushed down the stairs to her death, she awoke to find herself bound and sitting in the hall.

Apart from herself, there were six other people present. Some cursed loudly, while others were silent.

And a young man with deep-set features and chestnut-brown hair seemingly found a violin out of nowhere and was enjoying the storm outside the window, playing discordant noises at will.

Yes, noises—at least by Isabel's standards. She'd been better at the violin after just three months of practice than this.

Because it wasn't any tune at all, it was improvised performance, yet the player lacked the music theory for improvisation. It turned into a cacophony torturing the ears.

This finally made her lose patience and speak out to stop it.

"Lulu... Your Highness, right?"

The man turned back with a cool and proud demeanor, bowing politely to the people at the table.

His knuckles were well-defined, and the bow in his hands resembled a sword.

Even as the others cursed him louder, he simply ignored them.

"You may go down first, I still need to wait a bit longer. But don't worry, I'll go down before time's up."

He didn't introduce himself, but Lulu easily guessed his identity—her intuition assured her that this was Sherlock, not Merlin in disguise.

"What should I do... to help you?"

"Daiya" across the table asked seriously, "I've investigated room 201 on the layer above..." Discover hidden stories at empire

As she spoke, she also tried hard to ignore the curses and arguments around her, telling Sherlock everything she had seen.

Sherlock appeared mildly surprised by Isabel's resilience and initiative, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly into a rare smile of approval.

"When you go down, make sure to note who has died on each layer. Then remember those people. After you find the Fox, tell him what you have seen, and also convey my strategy to him."

Sherlock spoke calmly, "I choose to wait here. To see how many people will end up on my layer, and then I'll know how many layers I need to descend consecutively. I am confident in recognizing Merlin; he can't deceive me.

"Of course, I could also fail. For example, if someone above me miscounts the layers and ends up not descending in the end. Then I'll be eliminated along with him.

"—In short, the people waiting on the bottom layer will see either more than two people missing or everyone arriving. But it's impossible to see only one person missing.

"If that happens, there are two possibilities—because I've chosen a very cautious strategy, Merlin may impersonate me to counter the situation I've set up. If it's like that, then the missing person must be below my layer.

"You convey these words to the Fox; he'll understand."

The detective finished speaking and then raised his gun towards Daiya, pulling the trigger without hesitation.

—And with this death, Isabel began to feel the agony.

The heat intensified, and she began to vomit continuously. Her heart throbbed violently, but could not pump much blood because it was contracting without fully relaxing. Her body temperature kept rising, and her consciousness started to blur.

"Three dead," she kept repeating, "A woman, a monkey, an old man."

She was so weak that she didn't have the strength to pull the trigger.

Looking at the corpse of the vile man on the floor, she found the gun he was carrying.

Isabel knelt on the ground, buried the barrel deep into her throat. With her tiny index and middle fingers stacked together, she pressed down on the trigger using the weight of her body—

Taking herself to the next layer.

And from here, she discovered with horror... her skin was beginning to crack.

Her skin turned pale, with tiny cracks forming. Sinister purple light seeped out from them, blended with hints of gradient pink.

The girl's bell-like laughter became clearer, as if ringing right next to her ear.

Because her memory began to blur, Isabel started mumbling to herself, repeating everything she had seen.

"Merlin's story... fairy tale books, a little bear... dead end..."

She stumbled around searching for bodies, reciting in a hoarse, dry voice: "Negative first layer, detective... either two missing, or everyone accounted for..."

"Negative second layer, three dead... a woman, a monkey, an old man."

"—Sister, shall we play together?"

The girl's voice rose up beside her ear, interrupting Isabel's recitations.

"Stop it!"

Isabel rarely lost her temper.

But just shouting made her head hurt even more. The piercing pain forced her to stop and gasp for air, clutching her head.

—Now, no one could help her.

On the contrary, she carried the hope of victory on her shoulders.

Looking at those corpses, Isabel had figured out the rules of descent.

Without her information, Aiwass might fall to the wrong layer due to incorrect intel... Sherlock might also die...

She was supposed to feel powerless.

After all, it had always been that way... she was always protected by others. She had never been independently in charge of something important, nor had she ever carried the lives of others on her shoulders.

"... Ha... hah..."

Her breaths were quiet, and the cracked lines on her skin flickered as if they were breathing.

... Come to think of it, did this concern life itself?

Isabel's consciousness began to blur.

This seemed like a rite of passage... It wouldn't matter if she lost, right...?

Just stop here. It's too painful. If she continued, she might even die of pain.

—Although she knew, even if she failed, no one would blame her.

But Isabel was not willing to give up. Green flames flickered in Daiya's eyes like a hallucination, as if they gave her a bit of strength, and her consciousness became somewhat clearer.

The closer she was to the limit, the more spirited Isabel became.

The more painful it was, the stronger she became.

She still didn't want to admit defeat—

"Merlin's story... a teddy bear... ha... 201..."

Isabel, leaning on the wall, moved slowly, muttering softly to herself as if in a dream.

And then, she saw a strange vision before her eyes.

A blond girl tossed a leather ball towards Isabel.

"Want to play ball, sister?"

With an earnest hope, a voice echoed spiritually, "Won't you play ball with me?"

Isabel instinctively wanted to raise her hand to block the ball. However, the ball struck her already exhausted body, causing her to fall to the ground.

The leather ball and the little girl swiftly dissipated into phantoms, but the sensation of being hit by the ball felt so real.

In the depths of her heart, the little girl's voice rang out again, "Sister... will you leave me?"

The voice became panic-stricken.

So lonely and fearful she was... it caused Isabel's heart to soften involuntarily.

She couldn't help but start crying, as if it was for herself, and yet also for this girl.

But after crying for a while, she picked herself up again, silently drying her tears. She continued forward, into even darker places.

She passed one corpse after another. Some people had been alive before, now dead; others died once, then died a second time.

The thoughts in her mind grew blurrier and blurrier; she had long forgotten whether she was in the process of a rite of passage or still within a dream. The increasingly sharp pain tormented her, making her current experience feel all the more real. She even momentarily forgot she was called Isabel.

"Remember these people."

A cold and arrogant voice arose: "You shall convey these words to Fox, and he will understand."

"He will understand..."

Isabel repeated softly, her copper coin-like pinkish-purple pupils reflecting the light.

Her skin cracked extensively, and with each step, pinkish blood slowly flowed down.

Some living people encountered her on the way—seeing this feverish little girl, anyone would want to take her away.

But upon approaching Isabel, their bodies became blurry and transparent.

Anxious and distressed, they rushed towards Isabel, but before they could embrace her, they became transparent. And after Isabel passed through them and left, they stood up as if nothing had happened, as if they had never seen her.

Not just the living—the world around her occasionally turned blurry and transparent as well.

She remembered every layer of corpses, yet she didn't recall how many floors she had descended. Her memory was still functioning, but she could no longer think.

—Finally, she saw that long table lit with candlelight again. She saw the familiar Detective and the fierce man seated at the head of the table.

It was like a painting, etched into the depths of her heart.

Isabel's tears came in an instant.

Just a single glance was enough for her instincts to tell her—this man was Aiwass.

"... Aiwass..."

Isabel stumbled over, running into his arms.

—Even though he looked exactly the same, this was by no means the man with a fierce countenance. That's what her eyes told her.

She no longer remembered that she was to address him as Fox; instead, instinct told her not to utter his name.

"In room 201, there's Merlin's storybook and a teddy bear. After picking them up, I walked into a dead end...

"I met the Detective at level negative one. He asked me to tell you..."

Isabel's voice became more fluent: "The deceased were..."

She recited the names of those she remembered in one breath. Everyone listened quietly to the intelligence she brought.

—Her mission was complete.