Escape from the Murder Hotel
My vision flushed bright red, and wicked thoughts began bubbling up endlessly in my mind. Dozens of ways to kill a person. The ecstasy of murder. And an irresistible urge to mercilessly torment and slaughter the small, fragile sacrificial lambs before my eyes.
Aaah. Look at that slender, snow-white skin. Twisting her neck, ripping out the artery, showering in the gushing blood like a waterfall—how ecstatic that would be.
"Grraaah…!!"
No. My thoughts were being overwritten in an instant. I'd anticipated it to some extent, but the speed was even faster than expected. Clutching the last shreds of my reason, I desperately recited my final lines to Rozalia, transmitting my future course of action to her—like inputting a prompt into an AI.
"I want… to kill you all… so badly…. Heh heh heh, but I didn't come here… to kill some worthless girl… I could do that anywhere. Kee hee hee, so you all… kill that murderer… and I'll deal with him… afterward."
Thankfully, it seemed to take effect. The violent impulse to grab and tear the students apart right then and there gradually subsided. And with that, my mind plunged completely into darkness.
. . .
What happened next, I only heard secondhand from Elaine and Rone. No helping it—I'd lost my reason by then.
Apparently, fully ghost-storified, I immediately clashed with the hotel's murderer. It was a fight no ordinary human could possibly intervene in. Even Rone couldn't dream of jumping in. Who could dare insert themselves into a brawl between two killers—one who sprinted and stuck to the ceiling in a single bound, the other hurling an adult man who looked to weigh at least 100kg with one hand?
Fortunately, both I—possessed by the ghost story—and the hotel's murderer were so fixated on each other that we'd completely forgotten about the students. While we fought, the students escaped through the secret passage the murderer had emerged from. Naturally, there were no murder traps or iron bars blocking the exit inside.
When the students emerged from the hotel and looked back, it had begun burning fiercely, slowly collapsing. A courage test they'd never forget, alongside the murderer. The Murder Hotel and its killer both sank into the flames.
. . .
Ghost Story: Murder Hotel has been resolved.
Resolved the ghost story, purified the grotesquery, and absorbed the resentment.
"Ow ow ow… Tomorrow morning's gonna be hell just getting out of bed."
When I came to, the first things hitting my senses were the ghost story resolution message floating before my eyes and the muscle pain ripping through my entire body. It felt like someone had yanked out all my muscles, thrown them in a washing machine, and shoved them back in place. How brutally had I used this body?
But the fact that I was alive and well enough to see the resolution message meant my gamble had paid off. My plan: get infected by the ghost story myself and mutually slaughter it out with the hotel's murderer. Even if he killed me, as long as the others escaped in the meantime, creating a chance to rewind—that would've been success enough. If the ghost-story-infected me turned the tables and killed the Murder Hotel's murderer? Total victory.
And the result was total victory.
"Ha. First time, huh? Clearing a ghost story without regressing."
One-coin clear. At this rate, the muscle pain almost seemed worth it. Was it the euphoria of resolving the ghost story? My whole body felt toasty warm.
Screeech
"…Screeech?"
The ominous sound scraping at my ears snapped me fully awake, and I finally looked around. Crackle crackle. I was surrounded by a sea of fire. No wonder my body felt so hot. It wasn't just post-clear euphoria—it was literally scorching heat.
What the hell happened while I was out? …Wait. Then that creepy screeech just now?
I really didn't want to, but I forced my gaze upward. There, a hotel pillar was toppling straight toward me. Ah, that explained why the resolution had triggered while I was still alive. The stage of slaughter collapsing and burning with the murderer. The perfect horror movie finale. The moment the mansion burned and crumbled, with no way for me to survive—it must've counted as resolved!!
"Gaaahhh!! Am I dying after all!!"
. . .
Thankfully, I didn't die and was safely rescued. Long after the courage test should have ended, Lydia-sensei grew suspicious of me and the students not emerging. She realized something bizarre was happening at the hotel and promptly called for rescue.
If only they'd come sooner, before the murderer chase, but isn't it a cliché that rescue teams only show up after the incident's over?
The Murder Hotel incident was publicly written off as a gas explosion due to building deterioration. Ah, how convenient. Gas explosions as an excuse. Time to send heartfelt thanks to every gas safety inspector in the country.
Aurora and Rozalia, seeing me carried out unconscious on a stretcher, insisted I was a serial killer who needed locking up immediately—but it was dismissed as gas poisoning hallucinations. They frantically explained the courage test events to Lydia-sensei, but by the time the ghost story resolved, all evidence of the Murder Hotel or serial killer had long evaporated.
Adding insult, Elaine and Rone—who escaped with them—suddenly flipped their stories, claiming nothing happened inside; they were just doing the test when they smelled gas, got dizzy, and then fire broke out. That killed any credibility the two had left. In the end, their claims just got them carted to the hospital for psychiatric evaluation.
. . .
Three days passed since the gas explosion that rocked the academy. In that time, I'd regained consciousness, ignored the doctor's pleas to stay longer, and returned straight to the academy. Hospitals weren't exactly relaxing anyway. Who knew when a hospital-related ghost story might pop up?
Upon my return, I instantly became a celebrity.
"Heh heh heh. I heard the story. Quite impressive, Mr. Allen. Staying in the hotel until the end, sacrificing yourself to safely evacuate the gas-poisoned, unconscious students. A true hero, aren't you?"
"Ah, yeah. Just doing what any teacher would, Mr. Fresian."
"Ugh!! Humble to boot! I've stood at the podium for years, lived a life I thought respectable, but in front of you, Mr. Allen, I always feel ashamed of myself! But remember this, Mr. Allen: cherishing students is vital, but so is cherishing yourself. You got lucky with timely rescue this time—otherwise, it could've been disastrous!"
"Yes, I'll keep that in mind."
Before I knew it, I'd become the hot-blooded teacher who risked his life to save students. All I did was fight the murderer to buy time for them to escape… Hm? Thinking about it, not much difference.
As those thoughts crossed my mind, Lydia-sensei approached, bowing repeatedly in near-death remorse.
"I'm so sorry! It was all because I suggested the courage test!! No, if I hadn't proposed the retreat in the first place!! How can I ever repay this…!"
"No, no. You didn't know and suggest that place on purpose, Lydia-sensei."
"But still, how could I…! This fault, I must atone for with my body…."
"No, really, I'm fine."
Thus, my academy return began with hero treatment and ended with enduring Lydia-sensei's nonstop apologies every time she saw me.
. . .
Not everyone hailed me a hero, though.
"Mr. Allen. A word?"
"If it's quick."
Aurora and Rozalia blocked my path, thick as thieves.
"Got quite chummy in the time I wasn't looking?"
"Don't change the subject."
"Indeed!"
I'd fooled everyone else, but fooling these two—the actual participants—was too tall an order, it seemed.
"No idea what you're talking about."
"We remember the courage test perfectly. Navigating the Murder Hotel, the fight with the serial killer—everything! You can't pretend otherwise."
"Indeed!"
"Ah, you mean the hallucinations? The hospital already concluded those were from gas poisoning, no?"
"No. I thought maybe at first, but what Rozalia and I saw that night was no hallucination! We've even cross-verified our memories. Real hallucinations wouldn't match up perfectly."
"Indeed!"
"Group hallucinations can produce similar visions and auditory ones in different people. Rare, but possible."
"Eh? Is that so…?"
"Ah! Don't fall for it, Rozalia! Obviously a dodge—total lie! We checked the clothes you were wearing at the hospital. Not tears from debris, but slashes from a sharp blade."
Oh. They'd investigated that far. Amused, I eyed Aurora. But no smoking gun. Torn clothes weren't courtroom evidence. The Murder Hotel traps had vanished with resolution, and I had Elaine and Rone as witnesses willing to perjure for me.
"And I didn't notice during the test, but reflecting later, I realized: you and those two students knew the hotel's true nature before it started. And calling yourself the serial killer before we escaped? A lie. You weren't there for that—you had another purpose."
"Eh, really!? I didn't know!!"
"Hmmm~."
But I had no real desire to hide the truth from them.
"Fine. I'll tell you what really happened during that courage test."
"Really!?"
"…."
Rozalia lit up innocently; Aurora stayed wary despite my agreement. Polar opposites, these two.
"But hearing the truth comes with responsibility. You can't just pretend you never heard it. Still want to know?"
"Yes! I'm prepared!"
"…I'll hear it."
They steeled themselves and demanded the truth. No hesitation from me, then.
"…You two. Ever interested in club activities?"
That day, we'd gathered the numbers needed to found a club.