The evening breeze carried a faint chill as it swept across the shoreline.
Waves lapped against the sand, rising and falling in their eternal rhythm, their white crests dissolving into foam.
Side by side, Takakai and Yotsuya Miko walked along the seaside path. Their elongated shadows swayed gently with each step under the setting sun.
Their hands were clasped together, linking their silhouettes into one.
The slightly bashful girl didn't dare get too close, maintaining a tentative distance—yet their intertwined fingers kept them connected.
The afternoon date had been uneventful in the best possible way.
They had simply strolled through the festival square, scoping out the stalls and attractions set up for tomorrow's fireworks display. Then, they wandered through nearby shopping streets, picking up snacks and drinks before ending up here, ambling aimlessly along the coastal road.
It was… ordinary.
Nothing like the teasing back-and-forth of his dates with Maki.
Nothing like the chaotic, dog-like energy of Chika, who dragged him around with equal parts exhaustion and exhilaration.
And as for his first date with Kaguya… well, Takakai wasn't sure how to describe that experience. Given that it had been their first non-party interaction, her… performances had been somewhat understandable.
But this?
This date with Miko was…
Peaceful.
They chatted idly.
Walked without hurry.
Shared quiet laughter.
It felt as if he had stepped away from the dungeons, from the Sacrifice Game, from that blood-soaked world of madness.
For a fleeting moment, Takakai even imagined that he had already cleared every dungeon—that the game was over, and he had entered some tranquil retirement phase.
Watching Miko's soft smile…
Seeing her frown in thought as she deliberated over cute phone charms…
Listening to her talk about mundane school happenings during their walk…
It was only then that Takakai truly realized:
Without the Sacrifice Game…
Without being dragged into those horrific dungeons…
Without awakening her perception abilities…
Yotsuya Miko would have been an utterly ordinary girl.
She wouldn't have lived the exceptional life of someone like Shijo Maki or Shinomiya Kaguya—girls born into privilege, blessed with extraordinary talent.
She wouldn't have embraced Fujiwara Chika's philosophy of unrestrained fun, diving headfirst into niche hobbies most people would never notice.
She wasn't a battle-ready, ultra-competent maid like Hayasaka Ai, nor did she possess Gotou Hitori's extreme personality quirks and prodigious skills.
Even her looks, while striking, lacked the meticulous upkeep of the wealthy girls he knew. Her charm was understated—black hair, golden eyes, but nothing that truly set her apart in a world where such traits were commonplace.
So, if she hadn't been born with her supernatural perception…
If she hadn't gained that unique ability…
Yotsuya Miko would have just been another face in the crowd.
And this date—this ordinary date—let Takakai experience that normalcy.
Not dull. Not boring.
But comfortable.
A peaceful, mundane life far removed from danger, struggle, and battle.
"Thank you for today, Senpai. I had a lot of fun."
At the street corner near her home, Miko stopped and smiled up at him.
"Yeah, I enjoyed it too."
Takakai returned the smile, raising a hand in farewell as he prepared to leave.
Throughout the entire date, aside from holding hands during their walk, there had been no physical intimacy—no hugs, no kisses.
Yet, inexplicably, it felt fulfilling.
As if this was enough.
Maybe that was just part of Miko's charm—the essence of this "ordinary girl."
"Ah, um… Senpai…"
But just as he turned to go, Miko called out again, her voice hesitant.
"Hm?"
Takakai paused, glancing back.
"It's just… I… well… D-Don't stay up too late tonight, okay?"
She seemed to want to ask something, but in the end, she just lowered her head, murmured a shy goodbye, and hurried off.
What Miko had wanted to ask was whether Takakai had been having any strange dreams lately.
But putting that into words was… difficult.
Especially since she hadn't sensed any danger from those dreams—just an odd, pervasive comfort.
So she kept it to herself.
"Now this feels like how a first date should go."
Watching Miko disappear into the distance, Takakai sighed before turning his gaze toward his house—still under repair, the freshly poured concrete not yet fully set.
With a shake of his head, he headed back to his hotel.
The crescent moon hung high in the darkening sky.
Crickets chirped as his shadow stretched and shrank under the streetlights before vanishing entirely.
His first date with Miko was over.
But his thoughts lingered on her.
This ordinary date had left him with an inexplicable warmth.
He analyzed Miko's traits—her personality, her appearance, her habits.
And eventually, he reached a conclusion:
Yotsuya Miko wasn't tsundere. She wasn't mischievous. She wasn't a genius, nor was she particularly lewd.
Her defining trait was something else entirely.
The "wife material" aura.
The kind of girl who would thrive in a simple, domestic life—who would see her kids off to school, leave warm meals for her tired husband, and greet him each morning with a soft "Good day."
It was… nice.
If Miko hadn't been so reserved, Takakai might have done something impulsive during their walk to express his fondness.
For example, if it had been Chika with him, he would've absolutely carried her on his back and raced passing cars down the road—and Chika, without fail, would have struck a cowboy pose and yelled something like "Run, Takakai-mon!"
…Wait, why am I thinking about Chika right after a date with Miko?
And why am I imagining something this ridiculous?
Takakai wondered if Chika's chaotic influence had corrupted him. After all, he was a mature, serious man with thin skin—he definitely didn't randomly imagine childish antics like this.
As he mused, his eyes landed on a fallen tree branch.
About 1.3 meters long (or 1.08 "Pans", as some might measure it), the branch was almost perfectly straight—except for a small fork near one end, making it resemble a sword with a crossguard.
Immediately, Takakai pictured himself wielding it while Chika brandished a broom, the two of them "Hyaa! Hah!"-ing their way through a mock battle.
…We've actually done that more than once.
Only Chika would not only indulge him in such nonsense but actively encourage it—to the point where Maki, upon witnessing one of their "duels," had been convinced they were under some obsession object's influence.
Okay, I'm definitely infected by Chika's memetic insanity. This is bad.
Stopping in his tracks, Takakai sighed.
After confirming no one was around, he picked up the branch.
Gave it a few experimental swings.
Struck a "Slay all" pose, channeling a certain power-hungry protagonist.
Then, upon hearing approaching footsteps, he hurriedly dropped it and walked off like nothing had happened.
Meanwhile, Miko had already returned home.
After a quick shower, she flopped onto her bed, hugging a pillow and rolling around a few times before sitting up, her cheeks burning.
Going on a date with Senpai felt like… like we were already married or something!
Just casually strolling like an old couple… It's too much!
And when they held hands by the shore, she had immediately remembered her dreams—making it impossible to get closer without giving herself away.
If not for her poker face, Senpai might have realized she wasn't just shy…
But trying not to combust on the spot.
It was terrible.
And those dreams…
Lately, they had been consistent.
Always starting with danger.
Always Senpai arriving to protect her.
And always ending with… content so explicit it would get instantly banned if posted online.
Worse yet, the endings had been getting longer.
Like Lord of the Rings: Extended Edition levels of extended.
No—worse.
At least moviegoers could pause and take a breather.
She was living it.
Full sensory immersion.
Starring herself.
And somehow, dream-Miko was becoming bolder—sometimes even resisting Senpai's advances.
Which made waking up even more unbearable.
"I really should have asked Senpai…"
Sighing, Miko stretched and muttered to herself.
This can't be normal. Is Senpai having weird dreams too?
But… if I'm not in danger, maybe it's fine to ignore it for now?
Her gaze drifted downward, to where her pajamas strained slightly.
…It's getting bigger again.
Not as much as Yuu-chan's, but her body was changing.
In the past, she would've just found it annoying.
But now…
What does Senpai think about it?
And what about Fujiwara-san? She calls him "kai-kun"—that's not something you do unless you're really close.
And Shijo-san… She's so refined, so accomplished, so obviously from a good family.
Compared to them… What does someone like me even have to offer?
The more she thought, the more inadequate she felt.
But then she spotted the phone charm Senpai had bought her today, and some of her anxiety faded.
It's late. I should sleep.
Turning off the light, Miko curled up under the covers and closed her eyes.
Once, she would've been tormented by visions of the supernatural—too terrified to rest even in her dreams.
But now?
Now, those things didn't scare her as much.
Not when Senpai was there.
"Haa…"
A small, unconscious smile graced her lips as she drifted off.
Elsewhere, in the abandoned building that served as [The Market's] base, Aoyama Nanami rubbed her tired eyes and stared at the list in front of her.
After days of discussion, the roster for the upcoming dungeon expedition was finally set.
"Two from [Crimson Covenant], two from [Slackers], two from [The Market], plus Takakai-san's team of six… Twelve people total. That's not a small number."
Will this work?
This was a Crimson moon dungeon—a place where past investigators had encountered horrors beyond comprehension.
With a resigned sigh, Nanami stood to make herself coffee.
Then her gaze snagged on the name at the top of the list—the linchpin of this operation.
Her feet refused to move.
Takakai.
Can you really keep defying the impossible?
This time, I'll see it for myself.
Even if we fail… I'm ready for that, too.
Her eyes slid to [The Market's] representatives.
[Aoyama Nanami]
[Gotou Hitori]
The bold, crimson letters seemed to sear into her vision like fresh blood.
[To Be Continued...]