The three of them retreated from the room in silence.
The corridor was hushed and still.
The female maid who had been there before was nowhere to be seen.
“She… left?” The Artist glanced around, asking uncertainly.
“It seems her only role was to guide us to that room,” Shirogane Kei murmured in speculation.
The three of them retraced their steps, treading through the ash underfoot, and made their way back down the stairs one step at a time.
The moment they reached the main hall on the first floor, a figure immediately came rushing toward them.
The Programmer had clearly been waiting for some time.
“Well?
What did you find up there?” he asked, wringing his hands eagerly.
Shido Makoto’s gaze didn’t linger on him for even half a second.
He walked straight past without a word.
Being so thoroughly ignored left an ugly expression on the Programmer’s face.
“You—”
He was just about to snap, but the Artist beside him couldn’t bring herself to be so cold, and whispered: “You can go up and see for yourself.
It’s in… in the room where the female maid was standing.”
The Programmer’s expression shifted.
He glanced at Shido Makoto’s retreating back, then looked up toward the second floor.
In the end, his hunger for information overcame his fear.
He gritted his teeth, turned without a word, and charged up the staircase.
Only three remained in the main hall.
Shido Makoto found a sofa set away from the walls and sat down.
Shirogane Kei and the Artist followed, settling into the seats across from him.
The sightlines here were unobstructed — every corner of the hall lay in full view.
“So, our guesses were mostly right.” Shirogane Kei tucked a loose strand of silver hair behind her ear and spoke first.
“The backstory of this mansion should be exactly as the diary described: the young master died in an accident, and that was the last straw that broke Viktor.
In the depths of his grief and hatred, he laid all the blame on the master and mistress, and so he set fire to the second floor — burning them alive, and himself along with them.”
The Artist listened with her heart in her throat and added quietly: “Then… then those two charred ghost shadows that chased us yesterday were indeed the master and mistress?
But why didn’t they appear today?”
Shirogane Kei shook her head and continued her analysis: “Strictly speaking, the charred ghost shadows never actually chased us, nor did they attack us.
If we reason it out, they likely aren’t aggressive at all — they’re more like the remnants of some deep obsession, appearing only in specific areas, such as the burned second floor.”
“Of course, it’s also possible that we simply didn’t violate their killing rules,” Shirogane Kei added after a moment’s thought.
That inference allowed the Artist to breathe a small sigh of relief.
“And Viktor?” She looked toward Shido Makoto.
“What exactly are his killing rules?
Wrench died so suddenly — we have no idea what even happened.”
This was the most critical question they faced right now.
Without understanding the vengeful spirit’s killing patterns, they were like blindfolded dancers in a minefield — one wrong step, and they’d be blown to pieces.
Shido Makoto leaned back against the sofa, thinking aloud as he spoke: “I have some ideas about Viktor’s killing rules.”
“What are they?” the Artist pressed.
Shido Makoto leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice, speaking two key words: “Line of sight.
Solitude.”
“Line of sight?” The Artist looked baffled.
But Shirogane Kei reacted immediately, the words bursting from her lips: “The diary!”
“The diary said Viktor despised being watched by others!”
She looked to Shido Makoto, seeking confirmation.
Shido Makoto gave her a nod — a silent affirmation of her connection.
Shirogane Kei followed the thread and analyzed rapidly: “So… Viktor’s killing rules very likely revolve around the act of ‘looking.’ For instance — you can’t meet his gaze directly?
Or perhaps you can’t look at him in a specific location?”
“Right, and the mirrors!
Maybe it’s that you can’t look at Viktor’s reflection in a mirror!” She offered several more guesses based on the information at hand.
“Very likely,” Shido Makoto said.
“Do you remember how Wrench died?
According to the Programmer, he was locked inside the storage room — a completely sealed, confined space — and he was completely alone.”
He paused, then continued: “Think about what happened to Xiao Hui as well.
She was also alone in her room — the same two elements: solitude and an enclosed space.”
“Of course, Xiao Hui was staying in a guest room, which theoretically counts as a safe room, so this theory isn’t necessarily conclusive.”
The Artist stared at him wide-eyed, struggling to process everything.
She asked in a trembling voice: “You mean… as long as we don’t meet its gaze, and don’t stay alone in a dark enclosed room, we’ll… we’ll be safe?”
“This is only speculation,” Shido Makoto said, shaking his head.
“In life, Viktor harbored an extreme loathing for the gaze of others.
That loathing, transformed upon his death into a vengeful spirit, very likely evolved into his killing rules.”
“He appears before those who are alone, forces them to meet his eyes, and once the eye contact exceeds a certain threshold, an instant-death condition is triggered.”
“Naturally, all of this still needs an opportunity to be verified.”
Just then, a flurry of frantic footsteps clattered down the staircase.
The three of them looked up.
The Programmer came half-tumbling, half-scrambling down from above.
He lurched to a stop in front of them, gasping in great heaving breaths, jabbing a finger up at the second floor as he babbled incoherently: “The diary… fire… it was all him… that butler!”
He had clearly finished reading Viktor’s diary.
Still not fully recovered from the shock, he looked at Shido Makoto with an almost fawning edge to his voice: “We have to act together!
We absolutely cannot split up again!
That Viktor—” This story is hosted at g.com.
Shido Makoto stood up, cutting him off.
“You’ve read it?”
“Huh?
Ah, yes, I’ve read it…” The Programmer nodded on reflex.
“Good.” With that, Shido Makoto turned and walked toward his own room.
“Hey?
What do you mean by that?” The Programmer panicked and hurried after him.
“We need to discuss a plan!
Now that we all know who the vengeful spirit is, that’s critical information!”
Shirogane Kei and the Artist rose as well, quietly falling into step behind Shido Makoto, putting distance between themselves and the Programmer.
The Programmer looked around at his own isolation.
He called out at Shido Makoto’s retreating back: “Don’t get too full of yourself!
Without me, you guys can’t—”
His words died unfinished, because Shido Makoto stopped walking and turned to look at him.
That gaze was utterly calm — the way one might look at a stone on the roadside, seconds away from being crushed beneath a passing wheel.
The Programmer’s voice seized in his throat.
In that one look, he understood everything.
He had been completely and irrevocably cast out from this group.
He watched as the three of them walked into their respective rooms.
One after another, the doors closed in his face, until only he was left alone in the corridor.
“Fine… fine!
Just you wait!” he growled at the shut doors, his voice low and seething with resentment.
He drew several deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down.
So what if he was isolated?
What was the big deal?!
He had also read the diary.
He also knew the vengeful spirit was Viktor!
He told himself now that he already possessed enough critical information to survive on his own, without depending on those three people for a single thing.
In fact, without them dragging him down, his odds of making it out alive were even higher!
With that thought, he felt a measure of equilibrium return, turned, and walked back to his own room, slamming the door shut behind him with a resounding bang.
He had made up his mind: from this moment on, he would live only for himself.
…
____
👻🔥Whant more?: Walnut-chan🔥👻
🔥 New history: Oshi No Ko: Co-starring with Kana Arima
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