**Aragi entered the room.**
The room where they were already waiting for him.
Not "greeting" him. Not "welcoming" him. *Waiting.* And that said a lot about the mood.
— Where have you been?
— Taking a stroll… through different corners of the mansion.
To be honest, it didn't sound very convincing. But who had the right to accuse anyone of implausibility now?
— Since we're all here, — someone's voice cut through like a countdown to the inevitable, — I suppose it's time to discuss what happened… after the murder.
*"The murder of Gerudo."*
As expected, they'd circled back to this topic.
A topic I couldn't escape, even if I wanted to. Even if I died.
I needed to come up with something. *Anything.* Even the faintest possibility — to lift this curse of suspicion off Enua.
— Then let's begin. Aragi, you remember the writing on the wall… the one left after Gerudo's death?
*"Ah… right. I'd completely forgotten."*
Forgotten about those red scribbles, written in his blood.
A grotesque script, penned in the most convincing ink in the world.
*"But if they're talking about it now… then this isn't directly about Enua. Though it's too early to relax."*
— Yes, — I nodded, — I was too shocked back then. Death… you know… knocks the memory right out of you. I rushed to you all to report what happened. The writing — it just… slipped my mind.
— Then we decided to set it aside. After all, catching the killer was more important, — Yahweh replied. — Good thing Cheryl and Morgana reminded us when they went to clean the kitchen.
— The problem is, we can't decipher it. No one knows what language it's in.
— Even the servants are clueless. We thought they might know… but no. Nothing.
— So… the writing remains untranslated. And Enua, as you know, avoids us like we're already a verdict. Which, honestly, isn't far from the truth.
— Still… this could be the key. To the real killer. The writing — it's a clue. Even if it's in an unknown language, it's still a clue.
— So… you're saying we should drop the Enua theory?
— Not at all. He remains a suspect until proven otherwise. And let's be honest, he doesn't have much time.
Everything will be decided before the second murder.
— Second…? — My body twitched. — What do you mean?
— Consider it a grace period. We're waiting for the second twilight. If we assume there'll be a new murder every night… time is short.
*"So they'll spare him until the next murder. If he can't prove his innocence by then… he's done for."*
— I hope you understand, — Kamiki's voice sounded distant, though he stood right beside me. — We know you're on his side. Trying to cover for him. So… you have this time too. Use it.
— Fine, — Hov sighed, — back to the writing. There were four lines, right?
— Four lines. Each — a few words. In sequence. One after another.
— But we've no idea how to translate them. No one knows this language.
— …The library, — I blurted out.
— There's a library here?
— I only recently found out. Second floor, right side, at the very end. The answer might be there.
— And you're only telling us *now*?! Why keep it secret?
— Because it's locked. Gerudo had the key. No copies exist.
— Damn. So — it's sealed shut.
— Then… we break in? Or force it open. Two or three of us — the door won't hold.
— The issue isn't that. It's not just a door. Five meters tall. Solid, as if magic itself reinforces it.
— Five meters?! In a *library*?! What kind of nonsense is this?
— It houses grimoires, — Morgana interjected sharply.
Like a knife through silk. Sudden. Uninvited.
— Thousands of grimoires. Some… contain power beyond comprehension. Limitless.
— So it's that serious… Then only one option remains: find Gerudo's keys.
— But even Cheryl and I don't know where he kept them. He said the keys were given to him by the mansion's first master. The one Ryujin trusted above all.
— Even entrusted the library to him. All his life's accumulated knowledge.
— Then we search. Everywhere. The entire mansion. We split up.
**The search began.**
Everyone scattered to scour the mansion.
Everyone — except fear. It lingered. It always lingers.
Gerudo's room.
The logical first stop. If I were a key, I'd hide in my own room too.
Morgana and I searched there.
Morgana, oddly, agreed to help. Not that it surprised me anymore.
— Half an hour of searching, — Morgana huffed. — Nothing. Maybe he hid them elsewhere?
— Maybe… — I muttered. — We've turned this place inside out. No luck.
— Let's tell the others. They're probably hoping we've found it by now.
The message was brief:
**No key.**
**Room's clean.**
They regrouped in the parlor. Again.
— You're sure you checked everywhere?
— Positive. The room's tiny. No hiding spots — zero. We even double-checked.
— Understood… Other rooms came up empty too. So… where?
— And we're against the clock. Night's approaching. Splitting up now is suicide.
*"Enua's name went unspoken… but it lurked in Kamiki's words. Between syllables. In every 'we.'"*
*"While they hesitate… I've one last move."*
— Let me… — I stepped forward. — I'll prove Enua's alibi. Right now!
*"Finally! — some part of me crowed. — I thought you'd given up, Aragi."*
— You… actually have proof?
The room froze. Even the air stiffened.
— Yes. It's about the writing.
— The writing?
— Think. Why would the killer write in the victim's blood — in a language no one understands? Not us, not the servants.
— So you dismiss his guilt… just because the language is unknown? Seriously?
*"Of course. You'd strike first. Predictable."*
— You can't know what languages he knows. Remember who he is. Creator of civilizations. He might know a tongue beyond mortal grasp.
— He's right. Enua could've invented a language. Used it. Fits his style — to obfuscate.
— But… what's the point? He knew suspicion would fall on him. Too obvious.
— Any of us could invent a language. That doesn't absolve Enua. If anything, it makes him the perfect suspect.
— That's not the issue. He has no alibi. We proved that. He alone left his room. Forgotten already?
— Face it, Aragi. Defending a friend is noble. But you've no evidence.
— It's for the best. For all. Remove him now — fewer will suffer.
*"Expected. No one listens. Kamiki least of all. He'd gut every word I say."*
— Why not blame the witch?! She said it herself — the game's goal: defeat her by any means!
— Exactly what the killer exploits. "Any means" excludes teamwork.
— It's every man for himself. Survival of the fittest. Eliminate the competition.
— See where this leads?
Kamiki stepped closer. Leaned in. His smile — unchanged. A smile shadows would flee.
— The goal isn't to kill the witch. It's to survive till the seventh twilight. And claim… a wish.
— One. Single. Wish.
And only one may claim it. Understood now?
— Vile bastard.
Agh-hah-ghah-hah-agh-hah!
Laughter. Arms flung wide. Eyes madly upturned.
— By the sixth night's end, one remains. *One!* Like it or not! Your pretty "teamwork" delusions mean nothing!
— So — we purge the killer first. Before he strikes again!
— And if he kills again… what then, Aragi? Cover for him? Or… are you his accomplice?
*"There. You've shown your hand, Kamiki. After Enua — I'm next. Not a threat — a blueprint."*
Then — interruption.
— Apologies for intruding, — Morgana. Cheryl beside her. — We found the library key.