Ryuga smirked in response, then, shoving his hands into his pockets, he casually strolled toward Fuyumi and patted her head.
"There, there, little kids make mistakes all the time. There's no need for adults to take their mistakes to heart. And since I'm a very generous and forgiving adult, I'll forgive you."
His tone was as melodious and sweet as it could get, yet his words grated on Fuyumi's nerves. He wasn't "forgiving" her. He was blatantly bullying her.
And she wasn't having it.
Her eyes turned into slits immediately, her gaze locked solely on Ryuga's.
Her anger was very evident in those almond eyes, they practically screamed: Don't test my patience.
Ryuga chuckled and turned his head toward Daichi. "What did you see, Daichi? Was the painting of some historical beauty that you got bewitched by her?"
Daichi raised his hands and shrugged, his voice the very epitome of lament.
"Tch. Tch. Only if it was. I'd prefer a hot historical beauty any day and every day, doesn't matter if she's alive or dead. But alas… it was just scribbling. Made some interesting patterns, but that's it."
Fuyumi shot him a glare immediately. "So you left me alone for some hot historical beauty?"
Daichi corrected her, "Nuh uh, for a scribbling which I assumed to be a hot historical beauty."
Veins bulged on Fuyumi's right hand, her fingers curling into a tiny fist. If it weren't for the fact that she was tired, she would've definitely hit him.
"Ahm!"
With a slight cough, Ryouma garnered everyone's attention.
"Guys, we should continue exploring this place. We still have three hours to spend here, rather than sitting in one place, it'd be better if we kept moving.
"Besides, Souta is recording our stay here. If we just sit around, those philosophy café 'debaters' will use it against us."
The Philosophy Café was a small spot within their university campus. At first, it was just a private little space where couples would hang out.
But gradually, as those couples started having fights there, other couples joined in. Over time, the meaningless arguments over mundane reasons, like following someone else online or not liking their partner's post, turned the place into something entirely different.
Soon after, the café was popularized as a place to have fights. The fighting topics gradually turned into debates about ideology, philosophy, and the supernatural.
Not by the couples, but by the new influx of so-called 'intellectuals' who stepped foot there.
And in one such fight, Ryuga and his group got entangled.
Their take? The supernatural didn't exist.
And, well, they found their match, a group of first-year students who challenged them.
The first years were adamant in their belief. They firmly held that the supernatural was real, that spirits, ghosts, and even parallel worlds existed.
It was so absurdly out of pocket that the others couldn't resist trying to prove them wrong. And being firm deniers of ghosts and spirits didn't help them ignore the first years either.
Hence, the challenge was set: they would survive a night in the haunted mansion of the 36th District. If they made it through without witnessing any supernatural events, the first years would admit defeat.
Ryuga rubbed his forehead and shook his head. "Seriously, since when did you guys start getting ragebaited? As far as I remember, with my presence, you all should've developed an astronomical resistance to ragebait.
"The fact that you got baited by a bunch of first years shows I've been too lenient. But fret not! I won't back down now! Get ready for chaos!"
"Hold your horses, big guy. There's no need for you to be so concerned about our ragebaited tendencies. We're perfectly fine as we are."
Souta was sweating bullets as he said that, his eyes darting toward Ryouma and Daichi for help. But the two simply turned their heads away.
At first, Souta felt betrayed beyond belief. But before he could start swearing at them, he suddenly remembered a crucial point, one he had completely forgotten.
"Oh fuck."
Kami Ryuga was the biggest piece of shit on the planet. He was the type of guy who found pleasure in tormenting people for absolutely no reason. Pranking and harassing others were just part of his daily routine.
But the thing he loved most was… doing exactly what he was told NOT to do.
And poor Souta had just done precisely that.
With his head seized in regret, he bit his lip and slowly turned to look at Ryuga, who, of course, was wearing an infuriatingly punchable grin while rubbing his hands together.
"Hehehhehhehehehehehehe…"
"Stop with your creepy laugh, Ryuga. There's something off about this place."
It was Hina who mentioned the abnormality.
Daichi was the first one to respond. He looked around the place and shrugged. "I don't sense any abnormality. What's the problem? This place looks perfectly like a staged horror movie shoot spot."
Hina shook her head. "No, I'm not talking about the architecture or the vibe. I'm talking about the faint smell. That sickly sweet, metallic rot-like smell. It's faint, but if you focus, you'll sense it."
At once, everyone stopped and focused on catching the scent she mentioned. At first, they couldn't really tell the difference, the smell of dusty wood and the sweet fragrance of the night air dulled everything else.
"Yes, the smell is there. It's really faint, but it's there," Ryouma said, his words immediately putting everyone on edge.
Beside Fuyumi and Daichi, everyone else had a hunch about what it could be. And the look on their faces didn't help calm Fuyumi and Daichi in the slightest.
"C'mon, follow me. Let's find the source of this smell. And Souta, keep the camera rolling. Make sure everything's recorded properly, got it?"
"Lead the way, Ryouma."
With a nod, Ryouma moved forward. He carefully navigated through the dark corridors, sniffing the air and guessing at the direction of the musty scent.
From the back, Souta recorded everything in detail. As Ryouma had instructed, he didn't miss a beat and most importantly, he made sure everyone stayed in frame, including himself.
It took them a while, sixteen minutes in total, to find the source of the smell. By that point, everyone could clearly sense the difference in the air.
The musky, musty, metallic rot-like odor had intensified by leaps and bounds.
In front of them stood a closed room with a distinct door, on which some sort of drawing had been made.
But with time, the red ink had dulled, and the drawing was now barely recognizable.
"I don't think this will end well. It's better if we ignore this place. No one's forcing us to investigate this room, we can prove our point just by spending the designated time," Ryouma warned, his voice low.
From the corner of his eye, Ryuga, standing beside him, noticed the faint shivers running through his body and the beads of sweat sliding down the back of his neck.