Creak—
The door to the meeting room—long neglected, or perhaps never properly maintained since the building's construction—swung open.
Takakai, dressed in casual attire, and Shijou Maki, looking effortlessly stylish, stepped inside.
What greeted them was a room packed with solemn faces, the atmosphere so tense it felt like an international summit.
This formal?
And so many unfamiliar faces… Are there players here not from the [Market]? Did my item recall actually screw over a buyer? Koeda said it was fine before—was that a lie?
Takakai, who had expected a low-stakes discussion, now felt a prickle of unease.
"Welcome, Takakai-san, Shijou-san."
Koeda Ki stood first, nodding politely. His tone was neutral, betraying nothing—unless you counted the worms squirming under his skin as emotional tells.
"Alright, let's get to it. I'm not great with openings, so we'll skip the small talk."
Takakai pulled out a chair and sat, his gaze briefly flicking to Aoyama Nanami and Gotou Hitori in the corner.
Ah, she looked away the second our eyes met. Still as socially anxious as ever.
Two others stood out:
A heavyset man in his late twenties or early thirties.
A young woman with pink-blue hair, vaguely reminiscent of a scene kid.
Both had been studying him intently since he entered—their expressions a mix of awe, curiosity, and nervousness.
Feels like a pie chart of emotions.
Regardless, Takakai was now certain:
The grudge item issue wasn't the main agenda.
These people were here for something else.
Whatever. My stance won't change.
"Recalling the grudge items I sold was my mistake. But during the Shirasawa Elementary mission, every bit of support counted. If this caused problems for the [Market], I apologize. If compensation is needed, name it now."
He didn't offer to return the items—once his recall ability was revealed, trust was already broken.
Better to ask directly what they wanted in exchange.
"This is indeed a serious matter, Takakai-san. Your ability undermines the [Market]'s foundation. We still don't understand how those items vanished. That said… we recognize the stakes of a Crimson Moon dungeon. Desperate times call for desperate measures."
Koeda's tone remained even, though the worms beneath his skin writhed more violently.
"For future cooperation, we have questions. Some may intrude on your privacy or reveal details about your power. If any feel too risky, you may skip them. Is this acceptable?"
He placed a small scale on the table—its needle immediately tilting toward Takakai.
A lie-detector grudge item?
"Go ahead."
Takakai kept his eyes on the scale.
"First: Can you only recall items you've personally touched? Or can you use this ability through intermediaries, or without direct contact?"
Koeda's expression turned grave. Behind him, several [Market] members leaned forward, eyes locked on the scale.
Probably worried I'll yoink this scale too.
Takakai saw no reason to hide this.
"It's my power alone. No intermediaries. And yes, I need contact."
Physical, blood, or watch storage—no need to specify.
The scale tilted slightly, and the [Market] members visibly relaxed—though a few now eyed him more warily.
"...Thank you. Then, let's move on."
Koeda, the only one who hadn't checked the scale, nodded.
That's it?
Takakai had expected more probing.
"Hey, Koeda! You didn't ask how it works—grudge item or blessing? Range? Duration?"
A [Market] player hissed—though with enhanced player hearing, it was basically a shouted complaint.
Koeda just stared silently.
The man flinched, immediately shutting up.
"The recalled items are yours to keep. In return, we ask for one favor. Would you hear us out?"
Koeda bowed slightly.
"Let me guess—a Crimson Moon dungeon?"
Takakai's eyes narrowed.
"Crimson Moon?! He just got out of one!"
Maki's composure cracked, her voice sharp.
"The [Market] is merely one party here. He'll explain."
Koeda produced a laptop, turning it to reveal a video call—with Touyama Akira, pale and bedridden, on screen.
"Good to see you again, Takakai-san… Though I wish it were in person."
Touyama's smile was weak, exhaustion clinging to him.
Unlike Kumami, who'd recovered swiftly after escaping her doll prison, Touyama was still incapacitated—a testament to the gap in their strength.
But Takakai already knew what this was about.
Ever since the [Faceless One] revealed his black watch's [Misfortune], he'd suspected:
If I've only cleared half of [School Horror Tales], it's only a matter of time before the rest comes for me.
Now, here was the "reason."
"You want me to enter [School Horror Tales], find your missing teammates, and bring them back. How many did [Red Knot Society] lose?"
He kept his voice level, placing a reassuring hand on Maki's arm.
"Five. Including our captain. Aside from Touyama, only two remain."
The pink-blue-haired woman spoke this time.
"I'm Nanase Ren. This is Hayashi Kenta. We're all that's left of [Red Knot]. After [School Horror Tales], we… suffered further losses. You're our only hope, Takakai-san."
Touyama's voice was heavy with guilt.
A Crimson Moon team reduced to two members…
The thought was chilling.
But gossip could wait.
"So the [Market] and [Red Knot] are teaming up to send me into [School Horror Tales]? That's the deal?"
Takakai tapped the table, his tone flat.
"More precisely: A joint task force—[Market], [Red Knot], and [Slackers' Union]—will assist you. Regardless of success, you'll receive three midnight-grade grudge items from us, and one Crimson Moon-grade from [Red Knot]. You're the key to this operation."
Koeda's voice grew respectful, his gaze flicking to Gotou Hitori—who sat fidgeting anxiously.
A Crimson Moon joint operation…
Normally, the [Market] wouldn't qualify. But this time, Koeda seemed determined to push for it.
If I can't reunite with my lost comrades… at least let this kid have her chance.
"[Slackers' Union]?"
Takakai's attention snagged on the name.
He scanned the room—no one stood out as Chinese.
Then—
Creak—
The door opened again.
"Sorry we're late. But hey, tardiness is our trademark."
Kumami, cigarette dangling from her lips, strolled in—followed by a stone-faced man in a military coat.
She crushed her cigarette against the wall, then smirked at Takakai and Maki.
Noticing Maki wasn't the girl from before, her expression shifted to "Ah, I see how it is" amusement.
"You're actually involved?"
Takakai didn't hide his surprise.
"You made too big of a splash. Did the impossible. Gave people hope."
Kumami lit another cigarette, her smile wry.
"And hope? For players? That's the most addictive poison there is."
She exhaled smoke, her voice soft but piercing.
"Like it or not, you're already a savior in their eyes—even if most don't know your name."