V11 Story I – Part 06

“Odagiri-sama,” called a voice from behind. “I will begin preparing the aperitif.”

Startled, I stepped back. The cook silently approached, reaching for the serving cart. He delicately placed a glass of sparkling golden champagne on the table.

The elegant drink was a far cry from the tea Mayuzumi and the others were sipping. What in the world was this? I looked up at the cook, who continued arranging plates of sweets.

His crooked lips parted. “Odagiri-sama, here is the aperitif and sweets. Please enjoy.”

“Wait a minute. My turn…”

“Please, indulge yourself. I will check the glass later. Excuse me.”

With a deep bow, the cook left. Before I could say anything, he vanished like a passing breeze.

I stared at the glass, unsure of what to make of it. The golden liquid reminded me of Mikage’s eyeball. The plate of assorted pastries was likely intended for Tatenashi. Should I take them to him?

Mayuzumi, staring at my face, spoke lazily. “No need to bother. Just drink and eat. He’s likely tossed your stuff aside and barricaded himself in his room. He’s not coming out. Leaving provisions and arguing is a hassle. Now, drink up.”

I wasn’t particularly in the mood for a drink, but I didn’t want to offend the eerie cook. Reluctantly, I picked up the glass and took a sip. Despite its glamorous appearance, the liquor was awfully bitter. Mayuzumi nodded approvingly.

Mikage reseated herself, crossed her legs, and clicked her tongue in annoyance. “What’s your plan, Mayuzumi? Tatenashi took off with his brooch.”

“His body will be cremated, and his belongings sorted. If you ask, they might let you handle his things. If he dies, your wish will naturally come true. The real question is, what’s next?”

Mayuzumi pondered for a moment. What else could be the issue? Before I could ask, a realization struck me. I sprang to my feet. Why was I just sitting around doing nothing?

Tatenashi would consume human flesh and likely take his own life. I couldn’t just ignore it. I tried to run, but my feet got tangled up, and I fell face down on the floor. For some reason, I couldn’t move my legs properly.

“Leave him be,” Mayuzumi said, looking down at me. “He won’t go through with it. The rest is up to him.”

Suicide was a fundamental rule of the dinner party. I recalled Yuuyami Towa’s disdainful gaze. My gut stirred. I struggled to stand back up.

“And Odagiri-kun, you’ve grown rather dull. It’s disheartening. You’ve seen the place, met the guests, but you feel absolutely nothing.”

Suddenly, a sweet voice echoed in my ears. My vision blurred, and my consciousness began to slip away rapidly.

This isn’t good, I realized. As my senses faded, the child within me stirred, responding to my mounting anxiety with startling honesty.

At that moment, the channel clicked.

The scene before me shattered. It felt as if my eyeballs had cracked from within. The child ate something, the light blazed like fire, silverware clattered loudly, and something stirred like a pig.

Bright red spilled onto the floor.

And so, the dinner party began.


Fresh blood splattered across the pristine white tablecloth, staining it red. It looked disturbing, yet beautiful. Above, a tasteless chandelier shone brightly. Silverware gleamed before the assembled guests.

Around the table, numerous individuals sat patiently, awaiting their portions. Their attention was fixed on the centerpiece—a large platter bearing the main course.

Something squirmed on the plate. I stared at it. Bound limbs writhed softly. On the large platter lay a naked girl, her belly split open. Her small mouth had been gagged. Her body turned over. Pressed against the plate, her pale belly and gruesome wound disappeared from view. Blood pooled around her.

Every time the girl thrashed about, a sickening crunch filled the air. She bared her pale throat and howled. Her eyes squirmed as she glared at the guests.

If looks could kill, we would all be dead. Such was the intensity of her rage.

But she could never escape. The scene before us was too grotesque and stimulating, filling me with disgust and inexplicable excitement. I wanted to slap myself so bad, to escape from this horrifying banquet immediately.

But I couldn’t run away from the memory the child was devouring. Whose memory was this anyway? Whoever it was sat on their chair comfortably and with evident delight.

Desperately, I tried to divert my mind, but rational thought took hold, analyzing the ghastly banquet. Feasts from the past differed significantly from the ones today.

The previous dinners were genuine bacchanals. A grotesque display of gluttony. Knives clinked, and a lanky waiter moved, placing a piece of meat on the plate before me.

Blood spread on the plate. The waiter bowed, urging me to partake. I lifted my gaze and saw the guests staring at me, wearing broad smiles. Slowly, I reached for the knife and fork.

And then, I woke up.


I gazed up at the dark ceiling. The red afterimage in my eyes wriggled.

My body was drenched in sweat. I couldn’t breathe, like I was submerged underwater. Rolling to the side, I threw up, my stomach and palms pulsating with intense agony. Pain and heat seared every fiber of my being.

Like the girl sprawled on the plate, I thrashed my limbs, desperate to flee. I didn’t know where I was. The faces of the seated guests looked like they were coming close.

Then, I noticed a looming figure beside me. The cook was standing next to the bed, holding a butcher knife.

It dawned on me in an instant. This was a continuation of the dream. The nightmare had followed me.

I ate what I should not have, and now I was going to be eaten.

I tried to move my mouth, to tell him that I hadn’t eaten anything at all. Not even a drop of blood. But my words choked in my throat, reduced to feeble gasps. The cook regarded me with a sharp gaze.

“I have some bad news for you,” said a honeyed voice. “Cutting his belly is a mistake. He’s not the first one. He switched places with someone else.”

Startled, the cook spun swiftly, his attention drawn to someone sitting in the shadows. Her form melded with the darkness, a red parasol blossoming on her back.

“There’s no need to stick to the original order, is there? Besides, you have more important things to worry about at the moment. Just stash the knife and get out of here quick. I didn’t see you. We’ll leave it at that. Now go.”

She chuckled softly, twirling her parasol. The cook backed away cautiously, then dashed away. The door opened and closed.

“Go, go, the night is short,” she said melodiously. “There’s hardly time for anything.”

She sneered with delight and cruelty, her melodious voice turning into a lullaby.

And once more, I fell into murky slumber.


My left hand felt as though it was rotting.

Shaking my head, I sat up, feeling a throbbing pain in my left hand, as if ants were gnawing at it. I glanced around, puzzled. I was in an unfamiliar room. The pure white interior resembled that of an abandoned hospital room, with walls, floor, and furniture all unified in white. How did I get here? I tried to remember, but got nothing. Getting off the bed, I began to walk, opening the door and leaving the unfamiliar room. After a few steps, I stopped in the corridor.

The image of the man clutching the card flashed in my mind.

Was Tatenashi dead? Did he consume human flesh and then commit suicide?

Simultaneously, another memory resurfaced—a horrifying scene flashed back.

Colors in the dream danced before me as I pondered the abnormal scene in bewilderment.

“Guh… Bleh…”

Feeling nauseous, I vomited onto the floor. But a part of my brain remained calm.

The memory from last night was likely the memory of someone present that the baby consumed. It fed on human memories associated with that place in response to the unease I felt about the dining hall.

Something felt off. That wild feast was, in a way, brimming with life.

The current dinner party setup and what I saw didn’t seem to match. Although both involved the offering of human flesh, there was a significant difference between the girl and her father’s hosting. Something fundamental was off.

Eat and then die. It was too bizarre and absurd of an arrangement.

How had such a thing come to be accepted between the hosts and the guests?

With questions swirling in my mind, I resumed walking, only to stop at a sound coming from behind.

The door to the corner room stood ajar, and an old woman was leaning against the wall next to it, chewing her nails and holding her knees. Something seemed to have happened. I approached the room, and at that moment, someone emerged from inside.

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