This Humble One, Reincarnation Stream Player

"Is there someone else?"

His muscles tensed instinctively, but Yuki wasn't particularly surprised. Since the prompt had just mentioned gathering with teammates, there had to be more than just him in this building.

Teammates? Or some kind of dungeon monster?

Yuki pondered for a moment, tucked his right hand into his jacket pocket, and pressed his back against the wall. He crept upward one step at a time on his tiptoes. As he rounded the corner, he vaguely saw a black shadow climbing the stairs ahead.

The upper part of its body was hidden in the shadows of the lights, but he could see pale blue jeans and white sneakers. As if it had heard Yuki's footsteps, the legs paused, and the white sneakers turned around.

"Who's there!?"

It wasn't Japanese; it sounded more like Spanish or a similar language, yet Yuki could understand the girl's voice without any barrier.

That wasn't particularly strange. If space and time could be shifted at will, making the people in the script understandable was simple enough. Yuki remained silent; he couldn't trust any living thing, at least not yet.

"Are you also kidnapped? Thank god, I thought I was the only one here." Hearing Yuki's silence, the voice grew more urgent, with a hint of sobbing. She began running down the stairs, speaking with lingering fear:

"Did you hear that weird voice talking about some bullshit game earlier? Save me, please! If you get me out of here, I'll have my father pay you a reward!"

The girl coming down the stairs rounded the corner, revealing her full figure to Yuki. Seeing the black-haired youth retreating along the path he had come, her sobbing voice turned irritable.

"Hey, why are you backing away?!"

Yuki was indeed retreating, moving several times faster than he had when climbing up. In the blink of an eye, he was back in the hallway, head tilted back, swallowing hard.

"Miss, what did you do when you heard that strange voice?"

"What did I do? I turned around and ran, of course! I just kept running until I got here. Seriously, come over here—why are you standing so far away?"

The girl chased after him, her voice taking on a manic edge that had nothing to do with her sweet tone.

"I see. You didn't follow the prompt." Yuki stood his ground, and by the light of the wall lamp, his red pupils reflected the figure at the stairwell.

Much like her pleasant voice, she had a beautiful figure. Her cartoon-print T-shirt and jeans accentuated the voluptuous chest and hips typical of Westerners. However, as his gaze traveled upward, the scene became bloody and grotesque.

Her fair neck was like a flowerpot, and where her beautiful head should have been, it had completely disintegrated. It looked like a cartoon drawing torn apart by a bratty child; the skull and muscles had spread out like petals, and a mouth split across three of these 'petals' was writhing, saliva dripping uncontrollably onto the floor.

At an angle she couldn't notice, the saliva pooled into a puddle, slowly spreading outward. Mixed with the thick scent of blood, a foul stench rushed toward him.

"Miss, your head has blossomed."

Yuki's lips moved, though he spoke silently.

Chapter 3: High Risk, High Reward!

Is this Transcendental Grade? Is this the Reincarnation Game?

Yuki's heart was pounding. Even though he often spent time in the anatomy lab and had forced himself to watch every horror and slasher film, seeing the images on the screen turn into reality made him want to gag.

For a moment, he felt the deep malice of this game. He quickly pinched the soft flesh at his waist, using the pain to force his brain to calm down.

Judging by what she just said, she should be a Player like me. So, if I had acted on my own initiative earlier, would I have ended up like this?

What kind of beginner's guide is this? No wonder it was fifteen minutes instead of fifteen seconds—so that was the problem.

This game was indeed different from the tropes he had seen before. Rather than a beginner's guide, it was more like an early-stage elimination. Even with the lack of information, Yuki had reached his first conclusion:

The difficulty of this game was likely very high, and it was filled with malice.

"What prompt? Oh, you mean the one telling me to open the door? I'm not listening to that nonsensical stuff." The girl didn't know the youth before her was brainstorming. She continued down the stairs, her clawing, mangled head enough to make a normal person wet themselves on the spot.

Yuki instinctively lifted his foot, but when he set it down, he stayed in place. He had calmed down, noticing that the irritability and madness in the girl's voice were beginning to wane.

Does self-perception determine the relationship between enemy and ally?

He sensed something unusual. If it were an ordinary person, they would either be paralyzed by fear—and judging by the girl's 'blossomed' state, the outcome would likely be unpleasant—or they would turn and run. If they were lucky and fast enough, they might escape, or even circle around to reach the red-lit area upstairs to clear the stage.

Fifteen minutes was enough for a game of hide-and-seek.

Of course, one could also be reckless and rush upstairs without saying a word. Did this game have different ways to solve it?

"Why aren't you saying anything? Am I that scary?" The girl continued down the stairs, now only two or three meters from Yuki.

Yes, very scary. A normal person would have been terrified, but luckily, I am not.

Yuki responded in his heart. After a moment of hesitation, he walked toward her instead, his eyes twitching as he looked at the fragments of her head swaying on the 'petals.'

This thing looked disgusting, but if his guess was correct, he could extract more information from her.

Thinking of this, Yuki forced a gentlemanly smile, trying his best to keep his gaze on her full chest. The cleavage was deep, and there was a mole there—just the thing to focus his attention on.

"Do you see those red lights? They might be shining in from outside."

"Red lights? What red lights?" The girl was very confused. Her eyes, split into eight parts, turned toward the stairs together, swaying back and forth like shifting eyeballs.

She's out of the game, so she can't see them?

Yuki gained some insight quickly. He kept his gaze fixed on that deep cleavage, his expression unchanged. "Hmm? Maybe I was mistaken. Shall we head downstairs?"

"Downstairs? There's no path down there."

Still can't see them?

Yuki's expression shifted slightly as he began to form a plan. He turned around quickly and walked back the way he came.

"Follow me."

"Hey, wait for me." The girl quickly caught up, her voice much steadier, as if she had found something to rely on. "My name is Linda, I'm from Mexico. What's your name?"

"Yuki Sorajima."

"Japanese?"

"I suppose you could say that."

"How is that possible? Mexico and Japan are so far apart. Could this be some kind of international crime syndicate?" Linda shook her head with a touch of naivety, then added weakly, "Ugh, I don't know what's wrong. I feel so dizzy, like my brain has turned to mush."

It's not just mush; your brain is wrapped in the center of those 'Petals' like a stamen.

Sorajima glanced at the bloodshot white mass, suppressed his nausea, and gripped her slender wrist. "I don't know, but stay calm. I will get you out of here. Whatever you do, don't panic."

"Really?"

"You only have me to trust right now." Sorajima channeled his inner CEO; based on the intel he'd gathered, he had to keep her emotions stable.

Seeing those 'Petals' gently contract, much like a girl's bashfulness, he suddenly had a bizarre thought.

Why do I suddenly find this less disgusting? Tsk, don't tell me I'm being corrupted into having weird tastes.

As they spoke, the two returned to where Sorajima had first entered. He intentionally lagged half a step behind, staring straight at the girl's swaying hips and the open doorway.

What would happen if she walked inside?

Filled with curiosity, his footsteps became impossibly light, but soon, he heard a dull thud.

"Ouch." The girl sat down hard on the floor, her head splitting and spreading out like a writhing earthworm, exposing the brain at the center.

At the same time, the voice that had just calmed down turned irritable again.

"This air wall again. It's like a nightmare. There's clearly nothing there, but I just keep getting knocked back."

She couldn't see it, she couldn't enter, and hitting it caused her pain.

Sorajima watched from behind. The scene made the situation clear: this doorway was the sanctuary the game provided for new Players. He had been wondering how an ordinary person could possibly face this head-blooming monster head-on.

This game really did have multiple solutions, but would it kill them to give a hint?

Sorajima felt speechless. It was like exploring a new map; every clue had to be found manually. He didn't take the opportunity to slip into the doorway, instead quietly synthesizing the intel he'd gathered from interacting with the girl.

First, she was a discarded Player who had become a 'Newbie Guide' for the game. Cognitive dissonance caused severe consequences, but when her emotions were stable, she was no different from a normal person.

Second, because she wasn't a Player, she couldn't see the quest path he saw, couldn't enter it, and would be hurt if she touched it.

Third, the normal procedure for the newbie guide should have been to hide, or simply ignore the questions and rush upstairs. But if he utilized the first two points...

Thinking this, he walked over and helped the girl up. Watching the fragments of her head sweeping back and forth in front of him, he felt his pores expand, sensing the 'Petals' brushing against his cheek.

They were as hard as sharp blades; they could undoubtedly slice through a human body.

"Huh? Didn't you hit the air wall?" Linda asked, puzzled, though her tone was gradually leveling out.

"I did. In my hometown, we call that a 'Ghost Wall.' It seems we've ended up in quite the place." Sorajima tried to maintain a gentle tone, choosing to skip the topic. "But there must be a way out. At worst, we'll just take another path. With enough time, we'll escape."

In an inexplicable place with only Sorajima as a fellow human, the girl had no other choice.

"Mm, I'll trust you for now."

That 'for now' was a clever choice of words. Was it a reminder that once his patience ran out, she would fall back into cognitive frenzy?

Sorajima noted another piece of intel. Combined with the countdown in his mind, he felt a surge of irritation. He took a deep breath and led the girl to the other side of the corridor.

"This way."

He acted as if he couldn't hear the countdown, occasionally jogging to test the monster's running speed, then slowing down to observe the brain within the petals.

As time ticked by, he actually discovered some interesting phenomena.

Her running speed was about the same as an adult human female; she showed no signs of Transcendental Grade physique. The brain was vital to her; a cigarette case he threw was shredded before it even made contact, yet she didn't notice, only feeling a slight itch on her scalp.

And what had shredded the cigarette case was a piece of her own skull.

With about two minutes left on the countdown, Sorajima finally stepped onto the wooden stairs leading up. He rounded the corner and saw the red light coming from the left.

He had spent twelve minutes gathering intel; it was time to push the progress. This thing was becoming increasingly frantic and harder to soothe.

The girl behind him hadn't spoken for eighty seconds. The inability to find an exit made her uneasy, and the swaying of her head grew more violent.

She and I are both reaching our Limit.

Sorajima stepped onto the final stair and looked left. It was a windowless corridor identical to the one below, except there was a set of double wooden doors at the end, exactly like the one he had opened earlier. The red light was leaking through the gaps in the doors.

"Go that way. We might be able to leave once we pass through those doors." Sorajima pointed, and he felt the girl move a little closer to him.

"What doors? That corridor doesn't have an end!"

She really couldn't see them.

Sorajima felt a bit relieved and began adjusting his original plan. But a moment later, he tensed every muscle in his body, for he felt a soft, damp sensation on the back of his neck, like a tongue gently licking him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lick you. Wait, what's wrong with my head?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Sorajima saw the girl trembling as she raised her hands to touch her head. Her split cheeks were becoming increasingly distorted.

She couldn't touch her own face, of course, but she did so obsessively, as if trying to gather up scattered sand.

"My head, my head, NO!!"

The voice shifted from confusion to terror, then from terror to irritability, until the final high-pitched scream made one's eardrums ache.

Now!

Yuki did not hesitate, nor did he consider gently revealing the truth; he simply spun around abruptly and pulled his left hand from his coat, a gleaming scalpel gripped in his palm.

Clang!

The blade struck those Petals, erupting in a shower of bright sparks; those stems, which looked no thicker than a finger, were as hard as reinforced bone.

His wrist went numb from the impact, and as Yuki turned his head, he saw that Linda had stopped speaking, instead unfurling all those Petals and sweeping them toward him like a circular saw.

The speed was immense; Yuki instinctively ducked, hearing a muffled hiss-hiss as a dozen deep gouges were carved into the wall, sending fine plaster dust raining down.

Twenty meters to the Gate of Opening—was this sudden rampage accidental or intentional?

Yuki struggled to maintain his composure, bringing to bear all the preparations he had made over the last ten years as he retreated rapidly, using both hands and feet.

Rip, rip.

The carpet was shredded into rags, leaving deep marks beneath his soles; Yuki retreated several meters, watching the girl lean forward, her split head acting like tentacles to slice through everything in its path.

The speed wasn't fast, but the splitting continued.

Those "stems" had already spread to her towering chest, and naturally, the number of Petals splitting off was increasing; Yuki scrambled to his feet, sprinting away while throwing the scalpel backward.

Ding.

The sound of the blade being deflected reached his ears; the Gate of Opening, glowing with red light, was just ahead, and his instincts were screaming, driving his body to react:

Run for your life, open the door, and get inside!

Yuki felt the violence behind him and glanced back slightly to see a massive cluster of swaying "vines" dancing frantically, looking like a rolling ball of yarn; even if its running speed wasn't fast, it was a Transcendental Grade power that he absolutely could not contend with right now.

Ten meters.

Five meters.