The broadcasted School Life Of Mutual Killing had ended. In broken buildings and quiet alleyways, a silent cheer was whispered for the downfall of the leader of despair. Junko Enoshima was dead, fallen to her own killing game.

You had no time to celebrate, though. You were out of food. You hurdled over rubble, trying to get through despair territory as fast as possible. The one megamart near your area was being held hostage by a handful of Despair lackeys, but they seemed to have left today.

Except one figure, sitting slumped near an overturned dumpster. Carefully, you approached. It was a girl. A heavily wounded girl, struggling to wrap dirty bandages around a stab hole in her chest

“Nngh…”