*Ding-dong— Ding-dong—*
The fourth period of the morning finally came to an end.
The time was now 11:40 AM. With the next class not starting until 2:00 PM, the players had a full two hours and twenty minutes to utilize.
For players like Takakai and Kumami—who had long since left their school days behind—this sudden return to the rigid structure of classroom life was… an experience. A mix of nostalgia and sheer, unbearable agony. Especially during math class, where the frustration of staring at theorems a hundred times and still failing to solve problems brought back painful memories of intellectual humiliation.
In a way, the *Yoruyama High School* dungeon had gifted Takakai with a uniquely torturous experience.
But compared to that, there were far more pressing matters at hand.
"So, what she (referring to Gotou Hitori) *does* remember is using an Obsessional Item to create a free-floating perspective, followed by another that erased her short-term memories. Everything else has been wiped clean. Correct?"
Takakai's gaze lingered on Hitori—who was visibly trembling under the collective attention—before shifting to Aoyama Nanami beside her. His tone was grave.
At this moment, all twelve players had gathered around a long table in the cafeteria.
This was the first-floor dining area, connected to the Annex Building. The Annex's first floor housed the library, while the second floor contained another section of the cafeteria and a multimedia classroom. The third floor and above were reserved for specialized classrooms.
The trays on the table were loaded with an eclectic mix of dishes—traditional Japanese fare like sashimi and onsen tamago, Chinese-style cafeteria staples, and even some dishes that had no business being in a school cafeteria. Kaguya's plate, for instance, held what looked suspiciously like high-end gourmet cuisine. Takakai's tray boasted two lobster tails the size of his palm and a serving of stir-fried pork with green peppers and sweet potato noodles. Fujiwara Chika, meanwhile, wasn't even using a tray—she had a bowl of tonkotsu ramen in front of her.
The reason for this bizarre spread was simple: the dungeon had warped to reflect the players' collective memories and perceptions. The cafeteria, spanning two floors, had morphed into a surreal fusion of Japanese and Chinese dining, ranging from questionable cafeteria slop to dishes that wouldn't be out of place in a five-star restaurant.
Around them, students moved in and out of the cafeteria, chatting and laughing as they picked their meals. On the surface, everything seemed perfectly normal.
But the players' focus wasn't on the mimic-students right now.
Figuring out what had happened to Gotou Hitori took priority.
"Uuu…"
The girl in question looked like she was on the verge of collapse.
The mental strain of memory erasure was bad enough, but the weight of her teammates' stares made it infinitely worse. Unfortunately for her, she was the *only* one who had made progress during the morning's exploration—only to lose all relevant information afterward.
"That special Obsessional Item forcibly erases the user's memories at a critical moment, making her 'invisible' to whatever was targeting her. The mental backlash is severe, though. If she had to resort to it, the situation must've been dire," Nanami explained, gently patting Hitori's back in an attempt to soothe her.
"Dire is an understatement. One of the mental fragments I placed on her shattered. That means she was hit with enough mental corruption to instantly kill a strong-willed normal person. Since the memory-erasing item activated *after* the fragment broke, whatever she learned must've been both highly lethal and persistent. None of the other teams encountered anything like this. My guess? Solo players are at *far* greater risk in this dungeon than groups."
Kumami, who had somehow produced another unlit cigarette, chewed on it thoughtfully as she scrutinized Hitori.
Her sharp, experienced gaze only made the poor girl shrink further. Takakai half-expected her to collapse into a 2D puddle.
"But if that's the case, why did she last a whole morning alone before running into trouble during the third-period break? Shouldn't she have been in danger from the start? There must be more to it than just being solo," Nanakawa Ren interjected.
The *Red Knot Society* player, who had been quiet until now, seemed to have some thoughts on the matter.
"Good point. The trigger might've been a specific action. She must've noticed something, tested it, and triggered a severe backlash," Takakai mused, studying Hitori intently.
"Bullying? The original Yoruyama High School had a lot of student bullying. Given how… *isolated* she is, maybe she triggered some kind of **[Bullying]** condition?" Kaguya suggested, frowning.
*Bullying, huh?*
Takakai wasn't unfamiliar with the concept. Japan had one of the worst bullying cultures in the world, with students ostracizing and tormenting others for reasons that bordered on absurd. The fact that Hitori had made it to seventeen without being seriously bullied—just mildly excluded—was nothing short of miraculous.
So, was it because Hitori's behavior stood out too much that she'd been targeted?
With her memories wiped, this seemed like a plausible theory.
But it was still too vague. They needed something more concrete.
Takakai closed his eyes, thinking hard.
…Nope. Nothing came to mind.
As someone who had *always* marched to the beat of his own drum, Takakai had never been on the receiving end of bullying. The closest he'd come was when some delinquents tried to shake him down for money—only to get beaten back with a mop he'd dunked in a toilet. The incident had earned him the class's wary respect.
So no, he couldn't quite relate to the experience of being systematically ostracized.
"Maybe… think of it in terms of atmosphere?"
A light tap drew everyone's attention. Chika had set her chopsticks against her ramen bowl, her expression thoughtful.
"Atmosphere?" Kumami blinked, looking as lost as Takakai felt.
"Atmosphere, huh…"
Hayasaka Ai, who had been quietly eating on the sidelines, paled slightly—as if recalling something unpleasant. Even her appetite seemed to vanish.
"What the hell is 'atmosphere'?" Takakai asked bluntly. If he didn't understand something, he saw no point in pretending otherwise.
"Mmm… It's a bit hard to explain…"
Setting her chopsticks down, Chika glanced at Hitori—who was now practically folding into herself—before continuing.
"'Atmosphere' is just… the social climate. In essence, it's no different from anywhere else in the world."
"But in Japan, it tends to get extreme. At its core, it's about 'excluding the different.' And in a closed environment like a school, that exclusion can become very pronounced."
"'Don't cause trouble for others.' 'Don't stand out.' If most people are doing something one way, the rest are expected to follow. Fail to conform, and you risk being ostracized—labeled as someone who 'doesn't fit the atmosphere.' Sometimes, it starts over the smallest things. Weight. Personality. Food preferences. Even clothing choices can become a reason."
"And bullying itself can shift on a dime. Reading the room, going with the flow—if you deviate even slightly, like hitting someone one less time than expected, you might become the next target. This twisted 'atmosphere' has been festering here for a long, long time. Everyone who grew up in Japan has seen it, even if they haven't experienced it firsthand."
"Me included. I was isolated for being… well, me. Too loud, too playful. So yeah. 'Atmosphere' is a monster in Japan."
A complicated expression crossed Chika's face as she spoke.
And she wasn't the only one.
Kaguya. Maki. Miko. Ai. Nanami. Ren. Hayasaka. Even Hayasaka.
Every Japanese player at the table wore a similarly haunted look.
Except Hitori.
Her face had gone completely blank.
No—worse than blank.
At first, every word out of Chika's mouth had made her flinch like she'd been shot. But by the end, she'd gone completely still. Not blank. Not numb.
Peaceful.
Like a corpse.
Honestly, I don't think I'll ever meet another girl with facial expressions this dramatic, Takakai mused.
But still… atmosphere. Even with Chika's explanation, Takakai couldn't quite grasp it. At most, he could scoff at the idea of ostracizing someone over trivialities—let alone turning it into some kind of social norm. Then again, hadn't the delinquents back in his school days picked fights over equally stupid reasons? The only difference was that they'd been a minority.
Wait, Chika got isolated too? That was surprising. She was a social butterfly.
"Honestly, hearing you say you were isolated feels like listening to a fantasy story," Takakai couldn't help but comment.
"It's true! The friends I hung out with would say things like 'you can't read the room' and exclude me from conversations. It wasn't outright bullying, but realizing your 'friends' are keeping you at arm's length hurts," Chika huffed, smacking the table for emphasis.
"So how'd you deal with it?" Takakai asked, genuinely curious.
At the same time, Hitori—who had been in full corpse mode—perked up slightly, as if hoping to glean some wisdom from the social expert.
"Easy. I just made more friends. If one group was fake, I'd find another," Chika declared, puffing her chest out proudly.
Kaguya and Maki, both of whom had very limited social circles, clenched their fists in silent frustration. Miko looked mildly envious. Ai remained indifferent.
As for Hitori?
She died again.
Kumami clicked her tongue. Chika's explanation hadn't resonated with her either.
But she had done her homework on Japanese school culture. The bullying statistics were staggering—over 85% of students reported either being bullied or participating in bullying. Meaning out of a hundred kids, only about fifteen had never been involved.
The reasons varied. Some blamed Japan's rigid social hierarchy. Others pointed to cultural quirks. Whatever the cause, it was undeniably messed up.
From what Kumami had gathered, Japanese bullying rarely escalated to outright violence. Instead, it leaned toward social exclusion, rumor-spreading, vandalizing belongings, or hiding shoes—petty, childish acts.
But today, Hitori had seemingly triggered a lethal response from just a minor action. That didn't add up.
"So this 'atmosphere'… You think something she did broke it?" Kumami pressed.
"Exactly," Chika nodded.
"But being alone is breaking the atmosphere, isn't it? So how does that track?"
"No. Being isolated is part of the atmosphere. In Japan, it's normal," Chika corrected, her expression darkening.
"But if the victim doesn't accept it—if they fight back, try to fit in, or dig deeper—that's when the real trouble starts. Because now, they're causing trouble for others."
Hitori looked like she was about to disintegrate into dust.
What a load of crap.
Takakai had never subscribed to the idea that victims should just take it.
Back when he was a kid, before the Toilet Mop Incident, he'd once reported some bullies to his homeroom teacher—a spineless man who cared only about test scores.
The response?
"If they're only bullying you, you must've done something to deserve it."
So Takakai had slapped the man across the face. When the teacher lunged at him, Takakai had kicked him square in the crotch, then pinned him to the ground with a few more "Does that sound loud enough for you?" slaps.
It had caused him no end of trouble, but the message had been received. Sometimes, the only way out was through.
"So what's the actual way to break this cycle?" Takakai asked flatly.
Chika grinned, adopting the same mocking tone Takakai used when provoking others.
"Easy. Hit back."