By now, Rin figured he had been walking for a couple of hours. Still, he hadn't encountered a single monster.
It was strange.
Even with his fragmented memory, he clearly recalled how every floor they'd conquered before had been swarming—easily a hundred monsters per level. But here? Nothing.
"Maybe it's a safe floor?"
The thought seemed possible, but something felt off. He couldn't remember any mention of safe zones near the twentieth floor.
No monsters meant no danger. But it also meant something was wrong.
A sharp ache throbbed behind his eyes as he tried to figure it out. Did he fall father than he thought? Past floor twenty?
Then—almost as if confirming his suspicion—a low, terrifying growl came from the darkness.
Rin froze. His breath caught. Shock possessed him, and he fell back.
He couldn't see the creature in the pitch black, but it didn't matter. The sound alone was enough to send him into a panic.
He turned and ran—bolting in the opposite direction.
But it was already too late.
The thing was faster. Inhumanly fast. Before he could get far, claws tore into his back. His shirt shredded. Flesh ripped.
"AUGH!"
White-hot pain seared through him as blood soaked into the fabric. His legs kept moving—driven by nothing but terror and adrenaline.
Then, just as suddenly, his vision turned white. A burst of fire exploded behind him. Heat washed over his body—the flames covered his shirt, burning everything in it's path. Fire engulfed his entire being.
The ground hit him hard. The flames burned even stronger. A new agony lit up his back as scorched skin peeled under the blast.
This time—adrenaline wouldn't save him.
Pain was all he could feel. His body refused to move. Tears streamed from his eyes.
"No! I—I don't want to die!"
Footsteps echoed—slow, deliberate, growing louder.
Rin could see it now—his killer—wreathed in flame, but untouched by it. A massive, three-tailed fox. Something that did not belong to the twentieth floor.
He'd been wrong. So very wrong.
The floor he was on... was well past fifty—
But that didn't matter now. He was going to die. The fox crept closer, its face twisted in a wicked grin. It was enjoying this.
"N-No! Stay back!"
Rin pushed himself across the ground, desperate to get away, but the fox followed—leisurely, savoring every step.
Then it pounced.
Razor-sharp fangs sank into Rin's wrist. Blood sprayed. Bone snapped. Flames surged over him again.
It ripped back—and took his hand with it.
"AAAGHHHHHH!!!"
"MY HAND! YOU TOOK MY FUCKING HAND!"
Only a gushing stump remained, blood pouring onto the stone floor in thick, heavy drops. New burns seared into his skin.
The fox smiled as it chewed. Every crunch made Rin flinch. Bits of flesh splattered his face.
Then it struck again—this time, his other hand.
"AUHHHHHH!"
His thoughts broke apart before they could form. His mind was blank—his arms, two stumps pouring blood.
He thought it would end there. Hoped it would.
It didn't.
The fox continued, slowly tearing its way up his arms. Bite by bite. Burn by burn. Scorching flames and searing teeth.
The labyrinth echoed with bloodcurdling screams.
More blood spilled. His vision dimmed. Coldness crept in.
The fox lunged again—this time for his neck. Its fangs grazed his throat, scraping his skin.
But just before it could clamp down—
A sickening slice tore through the air, followed by a thunderous boom against the labyrinth wall.
Rocks exploded outward. The fox's eyes widened.
Then—its head fell from its shoulders and the flames died out.
Rin might have questioned what just happened—if the pain wasn't so overwhelming it crushed every coherent thought.
The fox's massive body collapsed on top of him, pinning him beneath its weight. It was so enormous that even half of its corpse completely buried him. In a twisted stroke of luck, that may have saved his life—because mere seconds after the beast fell, something else landed atop it.
A sickening rip sliced through the air, like tearing wet fabric. Flesh peeled. Bones cracked. A grotesque, sloshing noise followed. The thing—whatever had killed the fox—was feasting.
Rin stayed still. He had no choice.
Blood poured over him. But this time, it wasn't his. It seeped into his wounds, into the open sockets where his arms used to be. It ran into his eyes. Into his mouth.
The taste was foul—almost making him gag. But the sensation was so much worse, like liquid flame invading his blood.
But Rin didn't scream. He couldn't afford to. He bit his tongue hard enough to bleed. Even a whisper could end him.
Minutes passed.
Eventually, the body above him stopped shaking. The tearing sounds ceased.
Had it left?
He didn't know. He didn't move.
The pain had dulled after ingesting the blood—probably because his nerves were damaged from being overloaded. But at least now he could think.
He resisted the urge to vomit at the thought of no longer having arms and started to think.
Whatever killed that fox... it was on a completely different level. If Rin had any hope of surviving, he couldn't be seen by that thing—or anything else like it.
For now, warmth wasn't a problem. The dead creature served as a grotesque blanket. Its blood was hot enough to keep him from freezing.
But the real issue was that he was losing too much blood. If he didn't find a way to stop it soon… he wouldn't live long.