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Hayato suddenly sat up and found himself in an unfamiliar space.

Three mottled walls and one empty bookshelf.

There were no doors or windows.

An antique dark-red table and chairs stood in the middle, with a glazed lamp set upon them.

The lamplight was dim and yellow.

Hayato sat on the floor without rushing to get up. Frowning, he vigorously rubbed his needle-pricked, throbbing temples.

His memories surged back, scene after scene gradually becoming clear. Hayato quickly sorted them out:

—The once-per-semester beast hunt.

—Being surrounded by a large number of strange beasts.

—Escaping for his life, jumping into a deep pool, and losing consciousness.

—Regaining consciousness in an unfamiliar place.

What was this place?

Why was he here?

A multitude of questions sprang into Hayato's mind in an instant. He braced himself with both hands and stood up.

The rough stone floor was not cold to the touch. Instead, it had the gentle warmth of jade.

Out of habit, Hayato took a defensive stance, holding his left arm across his chest while drawing the dagger strapped to his thigh with his right hand.

He froze.

The dagger was still here?

Holding the dagger, Hayato spent half an hour feeling his way around the room.

The room was sealed. Not only were there no doors or windows, there were not even any vents. Yet after moving around for so long, he did not feel stuffy in the slightest.

The dagger was an entry-level alloy short weapon produced by the Gongyang Clan, worth over ten thousand star credits. Yet even using all his strength, he could not scrape off so much as a speck of white dust from the walls or chip even