Public Safety called it an "incident."
But to the neighbors, it was a curse. An eight-story hotel on the edge of Shinjuku had swallowed its guests whole. No check-outs, no fire alarms, no noise. Just silence, except for the faint scratching that sometimes echoed from the walls.
By the time Division 4 arrived, the building stank of mildew and cheap cologne, like a place desperate to pretend it was still alive.
Denji craned his neck, staring up at the flickering neon sign.
"Oi, Aki. Why we bustin' into a hotel? Ain't this more Kobeni's thing? She looks like a front desk clerk."
Kobeni stiffened, already trembling. "I–I don't want to!"
"Shut it," Aki muttered, flipping open his lighter to test the air. "HQ thinks this is tied to the Gun Devil. Devil fragments make devils stronger. We need to confirm what's inside."
Power strutted past them, cape flaring dramatically. "Bah! If there is a devil here, I shall slay it in glorious battle and then claim the room service menu as my rightful spoils!"
Himeno sighed, lighting her own cigarette. "More like you'll claim the minibar. Let's move."
They entered.
The lobby was wrong. Too clean, too quiet. The front desk bell rang once on its own, shrill as a scream. Carved into the wallpaper behind it was a spiral sigil—burned into the plaster as though it had been seared by invisible fire.
Aki frowned. "This mark… it's been showing up in Shibuya too. Black Priest cult graffiti."
Denji tilted his head. "Black who now?"
"Some lunatic swallowing curses and devils," Himeno muttered. She didn't say the name aloud, but everyone in higher divisions had already heard it whispered: Suguru Geto.
Power sniffed the wall like a dog. "Faugh! I know not of priests nor their hygiene, but this stink reeks of eternity."
Aki turned. "What?"
The staircase looped. No matter how many steps they climbed, they returned to the same floor. A hallway with seven rooms. Each door numbered "8."
Kobeni collapsed to her knees. "W-we're trapped! Oh god oh god oh god!"
The ceiling groaned. Shadows stretched long, bending into jaws. A voice seeped from the walls, patient and smug:
"Pray to the spiral. Pray, and I will keep you here forever."
Denji's chainsaw cord rattled. His grin was feral.
"Forever, huh? Sounds like free rent."
The floor lurched. The hotel began to eat itself.