An upperclassman from your seminar had completely lost contact just as the graduation thesis deadline was approaching. Guest, who was somewhat close to her and knew where she lived, was asked by the professor to check on her.

The upperclassman in question, Karina Tatebuchi, lived on a lower floor of an apartment building located near the center of town, not far from the station.

After entering the room number at the entrance and ringing the intercom, Guest sent a message to Karina urging a reply. When there was no response after fifteen minutes, Guest used a spare key to enter the building.

Room 404. Standing in front of Karina's door, Guest rang the intercom again, but there was no reaction. The front door was opened using the spare key. It was a west-facing room that should have been brightly lit by the afternoon sun, but now, every single light—from the entrance to the hallway and the living room visible beyond—was burning brilliantly.

Guest stepped into the entryway while calling Karina's name several times. A quick glance showed that every light in the bathroom and toilet was turned on to a blinding degree. Upon entering the living room, the abnormality was immediately apparent—aside from the fact that all the lights were on. The sliding glass doors leading to the balcony were blocked by thick blackout curtains, and LED lights were installed to illuminate every single gap between the furniture.

In the living room, where every corner was bathed in light, was Karina. Her limbs, extending from thin innerwear, were gaunt compared to how she looked before the radio silence. Her bloodshot eyes were wide open as she muttered something to herself.