The siren cut through the mansion. Ash's vision doubled, then tripled. He pressed his palm against the floor. His arms gave out twice before he managed to stand.
The intercom crackled.
"B-RANK DUNGEON BREAK. ALL PERSONNEL TO STATIONS. THIS IS NOT A DRILL."
B-rank. Here.
Ash's fingers tightened around the edge of his desk. The Sinclair estate had sensors everywhere. Gates didn't just appear. There were always signs. Fluctuations. Warnings days in advance.
He stumbled toward the door. Glass bit into his shoe soles—his awards, shattered across the floor.
Screaming. Somewhere below.
Ash yanked the door open. Smoke filled the hallway, bitter in his throat. Red emergency lights pulsed. The east wing stretched ahead of him, empty and dark. This old section of the estate sat separated from the main mansion by the courtyard—a hundred meters of open ground.
They'd put him here on purpose.
"SECURE THE MAIN FAMILY! PERIMETER DEFENSE, NOW!"
The shouts came from across the grounds. Muffled. Distant.
Ash grabbed the wall and moved forward. The building shook. He hit the floor, palms slapping marble.
A maid appeared at the corridor's end, running. Her face passed through a red light, eyes wide, then she was gone. Toward the main building. Toward safety.
Ash pushed himself up.
Through the nearest window, he could see the main mansion. Every light blazed. Blue barriers—mana shields—covered the entrances. Black-uniformed guards formed lines. In the center of it all, a glimpse of grey hair.
Angela.
His chest loosened. Just slightly.
But here, the hallways sat silent except for the siren and something else. Something wet.
Ash moved forward. Each step echoed.
The sound came again. Tearing. Like fabric ripping, but heavier. Wetter.
Then the smell reached him. Fresh meat left in summer heat. Copper. Bile rose in his throat.
It stepped around the corner.
Two legs. Arms that dragged. Grey fur stuck together in clumps with—Ash's eyes tracked downward.
Miss Yuki lay crumpled against the wall. Her uniform torn open. Her gloved hand still reaching toward nothing.
The creature's head lifted. Not quite wolf. Not quite human. Its jaw worked, chewing.
Yellow eyes found him.
Ash ran.
His feet hit marble, carpet, marble. Behind him—claws on stone. Scraping. Fast.
A corner. Ash swung wide, his hip cracking into a table. Porcelain shattered.
Something raked down his back.
Ash's scream tore out of him. His spine felt exposed, air hitting nerve endings that should never touch air. Heat spread across his shirt. The fabric clung to his skin.
Keep going. Don't stop. Don't—
The hall opened up. Three shapes hunched in the darkness ahead. Their heads turned in unison.
Ash threw himself left. Narrower corridor. His shoulder scraped wallpaper. Each breath stabbed.
What can I do?
His mind spun, trying to think like he used to. Find the pattern. Find the solution.
Is Angela safe?
She was in the main mansion. With guards. With barriers.
Through a broken window, the courtyard. Uncle Asashi stood in a circle of gold light, his fist buried in a wereman's chest. The creature dropped. Asashi didn't even look tired.
A-rank. Casual.
So far away.
Ash's knees buckled. He went down hard, palms out. His back screamed. He crawled.
Nowhere to go. The east wing had one exit. Behind him. Where the creatures were.
The wall beside him exploded inward.
Ash flew. His body hit the opposite wall with a crack that echoed inside his skull. He crumpled.
No air. His chest wouldn't expand. Something inside him shifted with each attempt. Grinding. Sharp.
His right arm hung wrong. His left fingers wouldn't move when he told them to.
Footsteps.
Ash's vision cleared enough to count them. Three weremen. Moving slow now. They knew.
This was the east wing. The separated section. The place they put the failure.
No one was coming.
"ASH! ASH, WHERE ARE YOU?!"
Angela's voice carried across the courtyard. Desperate. Scared.
Something in Ash's chest moved. Not his broken ribs. Something else.
He tried to answer. Blood filled his mouth instead, thick and warm. It spilled over his lips, down his chin, pooling on the marble beneath his face.
The weremen came closer. Their breath fogged in the emergency lights.
Ash looked up. Blood ran into his eyes. His legs wouldn't respond. His arms lay useless.
I wanted to die.
But not here.
Not while she's—
The first one lunged.
Ash's eyes closed.
Everything stopped.
Not slow. Not paused. Stopped. The wereman hung mid-air. Dust floated, unmoving. The blood from Ash's mouth suspended in a perfect droplet.
Words appeared. Not projected. Not written. Just there. Blue light against frozen air.
[YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED AS A PLAYER]
[DO YOU ACCEPT THE ROLE AS A PLAYER?]
[YES] OR [NO]
Ash stared. His thoughts moved through mud.
Player?
His eyes found his arm. The wrong angle. His ribs. The wereman's claws, close enough to feel the cold coming off them.
Angela's voice hung in the frozen air. "Please don't leave me."
If this means I can—
His mouth moved. Blood bubbled between his lips. The word came out broken and wet.
"Yes."
[SELECTING CLASS...]
The words pulsed. Once. Twice.
Light burst from them.
[CONGRATULATIONS]
[YOU HAVE UNLOCKED: SSS-RANK DEMON SUMMONING]
Time snapped forward.