The calls were light and melodious, drawing the listener in despite himself.
When they reached Arthur's ears, he did not open his eyes, but his body slowly sat up.
Throughout, Arthur's face remained blank, his movements stiff.
"Arthur, Arthur."
The voice rang out again. Wearing only his pajamas, Arthur stood barefoot and walked toward the ground floor like a puppet on strings.
For safety, the Creados family's bedrooms were all on the third basement level.
Of course, to keep up appearances, the upstairs bedrooms were also furnished with beds, though those beds concealed a few mechanisms.
That was enough to handle a great many problems.
But this problem, which defied common sense?
Although those precautions could not deal with it entirely, the distance created an unexpected delay.
The long climb left Arthur swaying with every step after he had unconsciously ascended two floors, forcing the melodious voice to offer another reminder.
"Careful, don't fall. You can take your time."
The supposedly melodious voice grew somewhat hoarse as it reached the words "take your time."
Moreover, when Arthur, who should have been under its control, finally reached the ground-floor hall of 2 Kirk Street after nearly ten minutes, his pace became extremely slow, as though he might stop at any moment.
Then the voice rang out again-
"Arthur, Arthur!"
This time, the voice had long since lost its melody and lightness. It was not merely husky anymore, but hoarse from screaming itself raw.
A struggle appeared on Arthur's face.
In the Character Panel visible only to Arthur, the talent [Death Intuition] flashed several times.
"Come! Hurry up and open the door!"
The hoarse voice grew increasingly impatient, almost a roar now. Under its urging, Arthur struggled for a moment, then began moving forward again.
He continued toward the front door of 2 Kirk Street.
The door drew closer and closer, while heavy panting sounded outside, like a beast after violent exertion.
Arthur seemed not to hear it. He walked straight up to the door and raised his arm.
"Come on! Come on!"
The voice outside sounded again, now entirely a beast's growl, tinged with triumph. Indecipherable mutterings even mingled with it, but the next moment, as Arthur grasped the door handle, it abruptly stopped.
Because Arthur did not open the door.
Not only did he leave it closed, he also stopped, twisted the bolt, aimed it toward the door, and pulled the hidden trigger.
Bang!
Seven pellets from the specially made Thunder Gun instantly shredded the thin wooden board covering the firing port and tore into the entity outside.
Thud, thud, thud!
"Aaaaah!"
The distinctive sound of flesh tearing was drowned out by screams.
A figure completely shrouded in darkness writhed wildly.
"You woke up?"
"You actually woke up inside the dream?"
"Why?"
"That's impossible!"
The figure in the darkness roared as it slammed frantically into the door of Kirk Street No. 2.
Inside, Arthur opened his eyes.
Of course he had woken up.
He had woken the instant his talent [Death Intuition] flashed, the moment that icy chill appeared.
He had merely kept his eyes closed to play along.
Now, with no need to keep pretending, Arthur opened his eyes-and froze.
The surroundings were wrong.
More precisely, the arrangement was no different from Kirk Street No. 2 as he remembered it, but every furnishing was considerably darker.
Both the deer head and the scarlet painting looked as though a black filter had been laid over them.
Besides that, a thin layer of mist lay at his feet.
The mist brushed across Arthur's feet like a stream, weightless and without any sensation.
"Inside a dream?!"
Arthur paused, then instinctively clenched a fist.
He could clearly feel his own existence.
It was incredibly real, far beyond his understanding of a "lucid dream."
Outside the door, the entity in the shadows had flown into a rage upon discovering it had been tricked.
"Even if you're awake, you're still dead!"
"Three minutes-
That's enough for me to kill you a hundred times!"
Bang, bang, bang!
It never stopped ramming the door as it spoke, even though the Thunder Gun had blasted a huge hole in its body and every impact sent blood spraying.
Arthur watched it through the peephole.
It was too dark to make out clearly. Not only was its entire body shrouded in night, but a faint mist also surrounded it. Even at such close range, Arthur's eyesight could distinguish only an outline.
It was huge as a rhinoceros, with bulging, knotted muscles!
That outline alone was enough for Arthur to sense its strength and power.
He was not selling himself short, but Arthur did not believe the door of 2 Kirk Street could withstand its repeated charges.
In fact, by Arthur's estimate, repeated charges should not have been necessary. With the strength it appeared to possess, a single impact should have knocked the door of 2 Kirk Street clean out, frame and all.
It isn't physical strength, but the protection the "door" itself represents?
An ability the "dream" grants the "door"?
Or is it also restricted inside the "dream"?
Arthur knew little about the supernatural and could only make wild guesses based on a few memories from his predecessor.
In his predecessor's memories, a home's door could keep out supernatural creatures, including but not limited to the "tooth fairy" and "poltergeists."
Of course, he had no idea whether that was true.
As for dreams?
His predecessor knew no more about those, either.
Still, Arthur knew that unless he did something, the monster would soon break in.
The door serving as his "protector" would not hold for long.
Without hesitation, Arthur turned and ran to the suit of armor, yanked out its knight's sword, then ran back and pushed the disguised Thunder Gun aside.
A firing port was immediately exposed.
To allow the Thunder Gun to fire its pellets more effectively, this port had been designed quite large. It could easily accommodate the blade of the knight's sword.
Thus, when the monster charged again, Arthur mustered all his strength and thrust the knight's sword through the firing port.
The two collided!
Thunk!
The blade struck something hard, and the recoil was tremendous. Even with his 1.7 [Physique], Arthur could not hold on to the hilt and staggered backward.
But the effect was obvious, too.
Not only had the knight's sword pierced partway into the monster's body, the combination of the door and the sword had pinned it in place.
This enraged the monster even further.
"You're dead!"
The furious creature roared repeatedly, pounding the door and constantly twisting its body, trying to break free.
After several attempts, the wounds on its body were horrifying to behold. Any normal creature with such injuries would already have collapsed from exhaustion, but the monster merely panted harder and remained full of energy.
Watching this, Arthur knew the advantage he had gained was negligible.
But he did not stop. He made a show of reaching for the hilt again, as though trying to widen its wound.
In reality, Arthur's mind was racing.
Blades and flintlocks are basically useless!
Even the advantage I've gained might be a trap it set for me, just to satisfy its malicious urge to toy with me-just like those three minutes it mentioned.
He was all too familiar with that cat-toying-with-a-mouse tone.
Besides, he was no fool. Who would believe the words of an enemy holding every advantage?
Believing them would be courting death!
Wait!
Who says I can't believe it?!
Something occurred to Arthur, and his eyes suddenly narrowed.
In the attribute panel, the skill [Bluff] began to flash.
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