The wooden stall where the girl had been sitting now held nothing but dust and the mechanical sway of a paper lantern.
Haru took two steps forward, toward the empty bench. Her disappearance hadn't come with any effect—no particles of light, no rendering delay. She had simply ceased to exist there.
—Rendering bug, he murmured to himself.
He touched his own chest, feeling the light fabric of the jinbei the game had given him. Its texture was identical to unbleached cotton.
Heavy footsteps echoed on the stone pavement behind him. Before he could hide, three figures appeared on the district's main street, advancing in his direction. Their names floated above them in phosphorescent blue, each followed by a long string of numbers.
『TaliãoBr』. 『Sirocco#1104』. 『Valkyr』.
—What the hell kind of server is this? The blonde woman's voice carried a strong Scandinavian accent. Valkyr craned her neck, examining the stalls around her as if searching for a visible flaw in the scenery. —I don't feel any lag. Zero.
—It's direct neural immersion, Talião replied harshly, folding his broad arms across his chest. —The system runs straight through our brains. There's no external route to jam.
—Save the technical explanation for the tournament, Rocha, Sirocco cut in, sweeping his gaze across the village around them. —Did anyone find the exit button? Mine's locked.
Haru approached slowly, keeping his hands visible. He recognized two of those names.
—Mine's locked too, he said, drawing the trio's attention. —I'm Tsukikage. You guys are the finalists from the global circuit, right?
Talião looked Haru up and down with contempt. But he clearly recognized the young player.
—Fifth place in the Japanese regional. What is Koga doing? Cleaning out the bench?
—They called in the best, Valkyr said, crossing her arms and revealing a predatory smile. —And they called you in to balance the stats, kid.
Before Haru could answer, a crack of wood drew the group's attention. Coming from a side alley wrapped in the shadows of red lanterns, a man walked calmly toward them. He wore dark, worn clothing that stood out against everyone else's clean appearance. Above him, his name glowed. 『Shirasu#0001』
Sirocco gave a nasal laugh.
—Well, look at that. Looks like they stuffed this beta full of beginners. That guy must be number one among the zeros. Here early, rookie?
The man named Shirasu stopped a few yards from the group. His eyes were dull, lacking any trace of the excitement shining in Valkyr's or Talião's arrogance. He didn't look at the names above their heads, as if they weren't important. Instead, he looked at each person's neck, as though checking their pulse.
—You talk too much, he said in a low, monotone voice.
—What did you say, rookie? Talião took a step forward, his body blocking the lantern's light.
—The tutorial already started. Shirasu nodded toward the end of the street, ignoring the provocation. —And you missed the first warning.
A dull sound, like the hide of a taiko drum being struck underground, vibrated through the stone ground. The sensation traveled up through the soles of Haru's feet, making his teeth vibrate too.
The purple sky darkened by several shades. The sliding doors of the surrounding stalls began to tremble, all at once. Misshapen wooden faces, roughly carved kitsune and oni masks, began to tear free from the walls. Thick black smoke streamed from their empty eyes.
Haru's interface flashed red at the edge of his field of vision.
『Alert: The Matsuri has begun』 『Objective: Survive the First Act』
—Finally, a target. Valkyr smiled, lowering her hand to her hip in search of a weapon she didn't have yet.
—Don't fight, Shirasu said, turning his back on the group and running toward a stone staircase leading up to the upper districts.
—Who the hell does he think he is? Talião spat on the ground. —Let's clear this map.
Haru hesitated. He looked at the masks taking shape—slender, gray, peeling away from the walls like solid shadows. Then he looked at Shirasu, who was already climbing the steps without looking back.
There was something about the way that player moved that didn't seem like the behavior of someone chasing fame or a rare bug to show off later. It looked more like a soldier stepping into a minefield.
—I'm going with him, Haru announced, sprinting in the same direction.
—Coward, Valkyr's voice echoed in the distance, followed by a sharp sound—the first blow she had landed.
Haru climbed the steps two at a time. His lungs began to burn. The dryness in his mouth felt real.
Shirasu kept a steady pace ahead of him, showing no sign of fatigue, as if he already knew the exact incline of the staircase.
—Hey! Haru called, his voice faltering with the effort. —Shirasu! What are those things?
The other man didn't slow down. He only turned his face enough for Haru to see his cold profile against the light of the higher lanterns.
—They're the festival's guests, he replied. —And they're hungry.
Haru dug his sneakers into the grooves of the dark wood, climbing the pillar as if it were the railing of a training arena. His hands were sweating, slipping against the rough texture of the decorative trunk.
Down below, Talião took a step back, raising his fists into a fighting stance. A faint red halo enveloped his body.
—This is ridiculous, he growled as the gray mass advanced across the plaza's stone tiles. —If this is a system failure, Koga will answer for it.
—Sirocco, shut up and help me! Talião shouted from the other side of the plaza, kicking the locked door of a teahouse. —This door won't budge. We're trapped here.
Someone else was moving down below. A smaller, agile silhouette Haru hadn't seen arrive—not with the group before, hadn't introduced herself, and yet moved through the shadows with strange familiarity, as if she'd been there from the beginning.
—Tsukikage! The voice came from below, feminine and firm despite the urgency. The name floating above the silhouette was 『Hotaru』. —The rope at the top holds the drum's axle in place. If you cut the support, the taiko's weight will crush the base of the left pillar. Go!
Haru reached the top. It was nearly five meters up. Below, the plaza looked like a miniature map about to be erased. The mask-filled gray mass was already licking at the base of the wooden structure.
The rice-straw rope was as thick as a man's torso. Haru had no knife. He had no weapon equipped.
—How am I supposed to cut this without a blade? he yelled, desperately hoping someone had a solution.
Shirasu remained standing below, exactly between the gray mass and the pillar. He looked up at Haru. His calm was almost irritating.
—Use physical force, he said, loud enough to be heard over the noise. —The game follows real physics. Force the knot opposite the weight. Use gravity.
Haru grabbed the rough rope with both hands. The texture immediately tore into his palms, and his health indicator dropped. 『HP: 96/100』
He braced his feet in the pillar's joints and threw his body weight backward, pulling the rope with all the strength in his legs. Veins bulged across his forehead. The effort was raw and mechanical, with no special ability helping him.
Down below, the mass of masks reached Shirasu's feet. A gray hand with long, dark claws grabbed the hem of his jinbei.
Shirasu didn't use any spectacular move. He simply yanked his leg free, tearing the fabric, and took a short step to the side, escaping by mere millimeters. To Talião and Sirocco, it looked like nothing more than a beginner's luck.
—Pull it already, Tsukikage! Talião shouted, finally running toward the pillar when he realized the gray mass was about to swallow the entire plaza.
With a sharp crack, the rope's fibers gave way under the combined weight of the drum and Haru's strength. The rope snapped, lashing through the air.