Letter of Misfortune
"Here you go, the club room key. Heh heh heh. Take good care of it."
Fresian handed me the key to the sealed room—no, now the official club room—with those words. The key felt cool and weighty against my fingertips. Truth be told, I'd already secretly copied the key ages ago and carried it everywhere, but receiving an official one like this still brought a fresh wave of emotion.
"Yes, I'll treasure it."
"Heh heh heh. Paranormal Investigation Club—what a bizarre name, no matter how many times I hear it. I can't wait to see what kind of activities you'll get up to, matching that unique name. Well then, I'll watch your club's exploits with great pleasure from here on out, Mr. Allen."
With Aurora Victoria and Rozalia Soline recruited as the third and fourth members, we'd met the requirements for official club formation. At last, the Paranormal Investigation Club was officially established.
I led the now-official members toward the club room.
"Now it's really starting."
"Ooh, so this is the club room key."
"...."
"Hurry up and open it!"
Elaine Astraea stayed calm and composed; Aurora Victoria seemed tense and quiet; Rone Yustria and Rozalia Soline looked excited, hearts swelling with anticipation for the club's future.
"Sure, no need to rush."
That's what I told the students, but honestly, I was pretty thrilled myself. We'd dealt with ghost stories before, but now it felt like we were truly committing to it seriously.
Click. The key slid into the lock, and the door to the club room swung open.
The first thing we did upon opening the club room was clean it. As a former storage room, it was musty and cluttered with useless supplies that hadn't been properly managed.
Everlight Academy prided itself on top-tier facilities while fostering student independence and equality, so they offered zero support for this kind of thing. It was like, "Clean your own club room."
I handled the heavy stuff, while the girls dusted and mopped. They weren't used to chores given their backgrounds, but they threw themselves into it diligently without complaint.
We spent nearly half a day hauling items to other storage, wiping down dust, and sorting. Even after all that, mountains of stuff remained—some academy supplies dumped by teachers, others left by previous clubs, impossible to distinguish.
These would have to be sorted bit by bit during club activities. Still, with the initial cleanup done, it finally looked like a proper club room. I'd used it multiple times through regressions, but this clean, it felt like a whole new space.
By satisfying the conditions, the relic Memory's ability is officially unlocked.
Unlock Condition: Create a club using this relic and join it.
Unlocked Abilities: Member Management, Memory Update, Resentment Replenishment
New members added—memory automatically updated.
...It really did feel like a different space. Despite using the room countless times, these were messages I'd never seen. "Officially unlocked"—so there was a hidden condition like this?
An unexpected development, but a welcome one. The top priority—updating the save point—was solved so easily. Now I could breathe easy. No more agonizing over distant regression points.
Who would've thought establishing the club was the condition to refresh the save? If I'd known, I'd have done it sooner.
The other unlocked abilities were Member Management and Resentment Replenishment. Using Observation, I checked the details: Member Management let me add or expel registered members from the list—expelled ones wouldn't regress with us, naturally. Resentment Replenishment refilled the resentment needed for regressions, probably with better efficiency now that it was official.
The students welcomed news of the club room's new functions. Elaine Astraea, who'd suffered alongside me since day one, lit up especially at "save point update." Aurora and Rozalia, not fully versed in regressions yet, reacted more subtly. Still, the mood was cheerful overall—a reward for our deep clean.
"Did you all know that the strawberries you eat aren't actually fruit?"
"What do you mean? If strawberries aren't fruit, are they vegetables?"
"No, literally—the part you think of as strawberries is just the swollen receptacle of the strawberry flower. Most people mistake it for the fruit and eat it anyway."
"Wh-what!?"
"Is that true!? Then... we've been eating... what exactly all this time!?"
"...I knew that."
"It's the receptacle, like I said."
With downtime after the big cleanup, the students chatted leisurely, munching strawberries I'd brought as snacks. Aurora sparked it, Rone and Rozalia jumped in enthusiastically. Elaine wasn't fully engaged but was at least participating.
"Wait!!! So what's the real fruit of the strawberry!?"
"Heh, it's the part Rozalia thought were the seeds—that's actually the true fruit. Don't believe me? Check later. You'll see real seeds hidden inside what you thought were seeds."
"My God...!!"
"Kya~aaah!! I can't believe it!!! This can't be reality!!! No way this is the truth!!!"
Rozalia wailed at the shocking "truth." ...Is this normal girl energy? I couldn't judge since I didn't know their usual vibes, but they seemed to be bonding well. Hopefully not ghost story victims? The grim thought crossed my mind, but it was just Rozalia's personality.
I quietly updated my mental assessments while watching. Let's see... Rozalia and Rone on the "silly team," Elaine and Aurora on the "smart team." Might come in handy against ghost stories later.
As their silly chatter peaked, I cut in at the right moment.
"Okay, attention."
All eyes turned to me.
"Since it's our first day, let's wrap up with a quick rundown of club policy and call it."
"Club policy is obviously beating ghost stories, right?"
"Yeah, no real change there from what we've done."
"...Aurora and I don't really know what 'what we've done' is."
"Yeah, yeah. What exactly do we do?"
Aurora and Rozalia raised hands uncertainly, lacking hands-on ghost story experience.
"No worries. Think of it as continuing what happened during the guts test."
"That's something to worry about!"
"Eek!!"
"Too late for regrets. You already know the ghost stories' secrets—no backing out now."
"Sigh. Should've just not listened..."
"I-I'm fine. I can overcome it."
They needed more resolve. I'd have to look out for them later.
"Back to the point: Solving ghost stories is our job, but waiting for chance encounters like before won't clear all the academy's tales."
"True, just five of us including you, Mr. Allen—way too few to patrol the whole academy. So, recruit more members?"
Elaine grasped it instantly.
"No. Too many in the know ramps up ghost story difficulty and leaks secrets. We'd only recruit if we hit a wall, but no plans now."
"But then we're short on scouts for ghost stories. More members risks backlash; fewer means no scouting at all. Damned if we do, damned if we don't."
I tossed Elaine a seemingly off-topic question.
"Why'd we name the club Paranormal Investigation Club?"
"Obviously to solve the academy's ghost stories—and find ways to stop the outer gods..."
"But that's our secret 'real goal,' not shared with outsiders. No need to advertise it in the club name if so, right?"
"Ah."
She got it.
"We'll use the students."
We had to handle solutions ourselves, but scouting? Ghost stories require direct contact for solving—bystanders can't even approach—but anyone can hear rumors and pass them to us.
"Publicly, we'll counsel students' ghost story woes while privately collecting rumors."
A certain American icon said: If you can't find a way to make money while you sleep, you'll work until you die. Swap "money" for "ghost stories"—I'll make them roll in while I rest. Auto-farming, basically. Solutions stay manual, though.
"That'll need tools. Students won't flock just because we have a club."
Prep for easier work to make future work easier—paradoxical, but that's life.
"Enter the club mailbox."
"Mailbox?"
"More like a worry box. We can't man it 24/7, and some students shy from face-to-face. Anonymous drop for ghost story troubles, right outside the door."
"Convenient. But where do we get one?"
"Heh, already installed."
"Whoa, when'd you...?"
I stood, fetched the mailbox I'd set up during cleanup, and returned. The girls marveled at my thoroughness.
Good. Admire me more.
"This is basic. Now we just check it regularly for ghost story worries... Huh?"
I froze mid-demo, opening the box. The girls did too, watching.
It should've been empty—but a single letter sat inside.
"...Just to check, who put this in as a prank? Speak now, and you're forgiven."
"...."
No answer. The lone letter stared silently back at us.