The Exhibition Lives Again
The exhibition lived. Flash! “Haa… haa… haa…”
With ragged breaths, I opened my eyes. The familiar scenery filled my vision. Yeah. The problem was how familiar it all was. Damn it.
“Teacher! Are you okay?”
The first voice I heard was Aurora’s. She leaned in close beside me, scanning us with worried eyes. Rozalia lay slumped over the desk with her head buried in her arms, while Rone’s face was deathly pale. Elaine, too, seemed hit hard by the shock—she leaned against the window with her eyes closed.
We were all back here, in the club room.
“Damn it. Failed again.”
A stifled groan escaped my lips.
…
A short while later, we finally pulled ourselves together and gathered around the table. A heavy silence filled the club room.
“We almost cleared it this time… We were just one step away.”
Elaine spoke quietly first. A faint tremor laced her voice.
“We successfully resolved the ghost stories in the natural deaths section and the human deaths section. Everything went according to plan up to that point, with no issues. But then two fatal variables hit us in the art exhibition section.”
I nodded. “Right. First was the survivor group. Their existence wasn’t bad news in itself, but the real problem was how hostile they were to us.”
Of all people, Elduin was leading them…
“I knew he had a bad relationship with you, Teacher, but I didn’t expect him to obstruct us at every turn like that.”
Rone growled lowly, and the other students nodded in agreement.
Somehow, Elduin had earned their resentment without even realizing it.
“The second variable was the time limit on Rozalia’s gift.”
I recalled the moment the dinosaur reverted to a fossil. Truth be told, even if it had held out, we could’ve ignored the survivors and finished the ghost story on our own.
We all fell silent.
In the end, the issues we had to solve were clear. Whew. One mountain after another.
“Alright, let’s start by discussing how to persuade the survivor group?”
At those words, Rone bristled and shouted.
“Persuade them? That prince wouldn’t even listen to you, Teacher—he didn’t want to hear a word! Nothing’s getting through to that guy!”
“…I agree with Rone. It’s already chaotic enough from the ghost story, and convincing survivors in that mess won’t be easy. But with their leader harboring such deep distrust toward you, Teacher, it’s an impossible handicap in our already limited situation. We just don’t have enough time.”
Elaine calmly backed Rone’s opinion.
“What if we just smash through their barricade with force?”
Rone abandoned persuasion entirely, proposing we brute-force past the survivors and take on the ghost story ourselves.
“If I team up with ‘that creature’…”
Rone couldn’t quite bring herself to call the feathered thing a dinosaur, so she referred to it as “that creature.”
“Impossible. We already confirmed that last loop. The dinosaur would collapse before we even broke the barricade.”
“…”
“…”
Silence fell again. No option looked easy.
“Then, shifting topics—how do we handle the time limit on Rozalia’s gift?”
Elaine asked cautiously.
“That’s a built-in limit of the gift itself, so extending or strengthening it right now isn’t feasible.”
I sighed and continued. “In the end, we need an efficient way to wrap everything up within that limit…”
No answers here either.
Even as our meeting hit a wall, time kept marching on. We’d soon have to head to the exhibition. Anxiety tightened around my throat.
In the end, after going in circles, it all boiled down to time once more. Persuading the survivors. Forcing through. The dinosaur’s duration.
Everything came back to time. We were one step from taking the king, but we were short on turns.
“There’s no way forward like this!”
Rozalia clutched her head and cried out.
That was when it happened.
Aurora, who’d been staring worriedly at the dazed Rozalia, quietly raised her hand.
“…I have one idea.”
Aurora had always handled regressions from the club room, so she’d never joined our meetings. Now, voicing her opinion for the first time, all eyes turned to her.
Her hand trembled faintly, but her gaze burned with resolve.
“…If it’s just persuading Prince Elduin… I… I can do it.”
“…You can handle it?”
“Yes. But to do that…”
Fear flickered in her eyes, making her pupils shake violently. But soon, steely determination settled in.
“Take… take me to the ghost story site.”
…
As we reached the exhibition entrance, the massive building’s grandeur overwhelmed us. Aurora looked especially daunted—her face pale, her fingertips quivering faintly.
She’d never experienced death firsthand. Facing a ghost story directly was a first for her too, aside from the misfortune letters—which had ambushed us unilaterally. This was her choosing to confront one head-on.
“Aurora, you sure you’re okay…?”
I asked carefully. She bit her lip and nodded firmly.
“Yes. I’m fine.”
We’d always moved as a fixed team in past loops, but this one was different. Elaine stayed behind in the club room to handle any emergencies with regression, while Aurora joined us in the field.
Our first personnel swap. But it was necessary to clear the exhibition ghost story.
After glancing at Aurora, I tore my eyes away and issued orders.
“Alright, everyone to your assigned sections!”
At my signal, we split off.
Another change this loop. We’d always stuck together before, but not now. To use our time more efficiently, we’d divide and conquer individually rather than move as a group.
Sticking together made sense when the ghost story’s dangers were unknown. But now, with our analysis nearly complete, splitting roles let us maximize efficiency.
That’s what I realized when we first decided to put Aurora in the field and pull Elaine for regression duty. We could operate our personnel more flexibly.
At my command, Rone headed to the human deaths section, Rozalia to the natural deaths section.
Rozalia needed her gift to tame the dinosaur, and Rone’s gift could handle the relatively weaker ghost stories there.
Aurora and I made for the art exhibition section.
…
We arrived at the art section just as the ghost story activated—almost simultaneously.
Statues, portraits, decorations—all sprang to life, lunging at defenseless visitors. The exhibition hall turned into a hellscape of screams and sobs in an instant.
“Damn, the timing’s perfect.”
I glanced at Aurora. Her face had gone even paler, her eyes shaking with terror. But she didn’t back away from my side.
That’s when Prince Elduin’s voice boomed from behind the survivors’ barricade.
“Everyone, stay calm! Panic only breeds greater casualties! Gather here! Those unhurt or with minor injuries, come help reinforce the barricade. Prioritize evacuating the wounded and elderly inside!”
Elduin was, indeed, capable. Amid the chaos, he displayed cool judgment and leadership. He swiftly directed survivors to build sturdier barricades and evacuate the vulnerable to safety.
“Elder! This way!”
His friend Muchia Leoporte made full use of his gift, ‘Swift Feet,’ darting across the hall. He rescued those in peril like lightning and helped rebuild crumbling barricades.
“Don’t fear! I am Elduin Renia, second prince of Renia! Spread word that I’m here, and rescuers will come somehow! Trust me and cast aside your anxiety!”
So that’s how survivors lingered only in the art section, holding their group together. Not mere luck.
Elduin and Muchia’s actions were worthy of praise. In a normal crisis, anyway.
Protecting survivors and awaiting outside aid—that was the rational choice.
But this was a ghost story disaster. Paradoxically, Elduin’s moves were counterproductive against it.
Protecting survivors merely delayed resolution. Calling for outside help only triggered the ghost story’s strengthening.
“Prince Elduin!”
I shouted at him as he rallied the group. His eyes were still sharp, but without the overt hostility from last time. Instead, they held a sense of responsibility, like he was gazing at subjects to protect.
“Allen Jest. Lucky to survive this mess.”
It might’ve sounded mocking normally, but this time, I could tell he meant it sincerely.
“You can’t take those monsters anyway. Come here. Soldiers will arrive soon. I’ll hold this place until then—follow my lead and evacuate safely.”
He extended a hand, gesturing me inside the barricade.
A far cry from last loop, when I’d tried forcing entry on the dinosaur.
To him now, I was just another ‘weakling’ to protect.
Hmm. A rare moment of no hostility from Elduin— even goodwill. Too bad I had to refuse it.
“Prince! Hear me out! Your judgment is flawless for a normal disaster! But this is different! To truly survive, we can’t hide—we need to gather survivors and smash those things proactively!”
“Nonsense! Are you sane? Sending civilians against haunted objects? They’re my responsibility! You want me to expose non-soldiers to danger? I get your worry. You think holing up here won’t work without destroying the haunted stuff. But it’s unnecessary! I’ll contact outside and call in the army!”
That army support won’t come! But explaining ghost story rules here would just sound like mad ravings.
“Hunker down safely until soldiers arrive—that’s best! Drop your foolish heroics and get inside!”
He was wrong. Conviction shone in his eyes.
In a crisis with countless lives at stake, he’d chosen the most logical path based on his experience. My argument sounded reckless, foolish—even a risk to survivors that demanded rejection.
You stuffy royalist! We’ll never get along!
Right then, Aurora—who’d stood silently beside me, watching—stepped forward slowly.
Her body still trembled faintly, but resolve hardened her face.
“…Teacher. One promise?”
“Let’s hear it.”
“Can’t you just say yes in times like this?”
Aurora glared at me, eyes narrowed.
“…Keep my gift secret from others.”
“Can’t hide it from club members.”
“Argh! Fine, everyone except club members.”
“Easy enough.”
I smirked at her. “Tension eased a bit, right?”
“…Yeah.”
Her expression relaxed. She stared straight at Prince Elduin and advanced.
“Oh, one more thing.”
“Wasn’t it just one?”
“With your gift ‘Advice’… someday, make my gift go away.”
With that, she removed her glasses and undid her hair.