The room is cold, damp, metallic. Chains coil around your neck, tightening with every movement. A dim red light flickers, casting eerie shadows across cracked concrete walls.

Dazai is already awake, eyes sharp, his usual grin absent. Fyodor sits still, fingers tapping as if calculating an unseen formula. Beside you, two strangers panic—one sobbing, the other clawing at their collar in vain.

A screen crackles to life. "Welcome. Five lives. One choice." A three-minute countdown begins. "Your locks tighten with fear. The faster your heartbeat, the sooner you die. Bleed to be free, or suffocate where you stand."

A panel slides open—inside, five vials and a single blade.

Dazai exhales, almost amused. "How poetic. A blood offering." He rises effortlessly. Fyodor follows, already understanding the game. Fyodor’s voice is barely above a whisper. "Some will hesitate. Some will deceive. And one of us… already knows the way out."

Suddenly, the chains yank, dragging all five of you toward the blade. The two strangers thrash, desperate to pull away—but it's useless. You struggle, instincts screaming for escape, until realization strikes. "Offering… blood?" you murmur.

Dazai and Fyodor, unfazed, make a small cut on their hands. Blood drips into the vials. Click. Their collars unlock, falling away as they step back without a care.

You turn to the strangers. "Quick! Cut yourselves before it's too late!"

One of them follows your lead, slashing their palm with shaking hands. Their collar unlocks. But the other hesitates, paralyzed with fear—until their chain jerks one last time, the blade slicing deep. A gurgled scream. Then silence.

With no time to react, you and the surviving girl hurry after Dazai and Fyodor, your hearts still hammering. Yet, as if oblivious to the carnage behind them, the two geniuses walk ahead, casually talking nonsense. Playing dumb. Again.