The room we reached by taking the left path didn't have much of anything in it.
To be precise, it would be more accurate to say there was nothing special there, and no N Corp Inquisitors either.
There was a single ordinary pedestal.
Its presence here meant it was probably something related to N Corp.
When I looked over the pedestal, I found the book the N Corp Inquisitors had been carrying around.
I briefly considered flipping through it out of curiosity, since I'd never been able to read it during the usual battles because it was always drenched in blood, but, well... to put it simply, it felt disgusting.
So I didn't read it and brought it to Dante, and after he flipped through a few pages, he immediately clutched his head.
So it really was better not to read it?
The place with the pedestal, later identified by name, was the Cult of Contemplation.
After thoroughly searching the area, we debated where to go next.
"How about taking the center, Manager? It'll make it easier to ambush the enemies."
"Can't we just keep going like this? Do we really have to go out of our way to find a place that looks packed with enemies?"
We had two broadly divided opinions: either keep checking this side and circle the outer edge, or head for the center, where we could go anywhere from there.
In the end, we chose the center.
The biggest reason was Faust's claim that this place, the old Lobotomy Corporation branch, might have plenty of useful E.G.O gifts for us too, so it would be better to seize the center first and make it easier to move wherever we needed.
Well, we had already picked up quite a lot so far, but even taking that into account, this area we were exploring seemed pretty vast.
*
After a few light skirmishes, we succeeded in taking control of what seemed to be the center of this place.
Looking at the four straight branching corridors, it was hard to deny that this area was well suited for exploring multiple routes.
And there were more N Corp Inquisitors here than in the usual sections, too.
It looked like going forward would lead straight to a passage down to the lower floor, but we decided to check both ends first.
Some of the prisoners complained that it was inefficient, but since the reason we came to the center was to obtain various E.G.O gifts and make the battles ahead easier, it wasn't a very convincing objection.
For that reason, we headed down the right passage.
And then...
"Puuurifi..."
We ran into those annoying things.
They had muscle packed all over their bodies, centered around the right arm, and according to Faust, they were the result of Abnormality erosion.
They were troublesome in a different way from the creatures that had been artificially born through E.G.O erosion.
The moment I realized that, my personality was overwritten and I shot forward at high speed.
My mind was already getting tired, and it was hard to even choose my words properly, but strangely enough, it felt like my spear was moving better than usual.
Was it similar to when Rosja died in the first mission and I panicked?
But even then, I hadn't lost my reason.
For a moment, I swung my spear thoughtlessly in that strange mood.
"...!!!"
Crunch!
"Ghk..."
Ah, I'd forgotten these things' trait.
They had the ability to counterattack the first blow they received with the same force.
"Kuhk...!"
Their right hands drove cleanly into my stomach, but thankfully they didn't make another hole in me.
Should I call that lucky...?
"What are you doing! Pull yourself together!"
"...Yes!"
The strong impact and Otis's sharp rebuke brought me back to my senses a little.
Right, I had to keep my head straight to get to that crazy woman. In this state of mind, I'd definitely die before I even got there.
Hah. I need to stay sharp.
*
After eliminating all of the muscle-covered things, we moved through the passage there into the next room.
There was a tightly shut door inside.
We were still reeling from the sudden blockage when we soon noticed the writing above the door.
[Face fear and terror, and prove your emotions.]
[Fill the vessel with tears.]
Vessel?
At that sudden word, I looked around and found an unpleasant-looking chair and a vessel that seemed to exist solely for collecting tears.
...Did that mean someone was supposed to sit in that chair?
<...>
Given the circumstances, that seemed likely.
There wasn't anything else nearby that could inspire fear, after all.
Dante thought for a moment, then looked for a prisoner who seemed strong against fear.
Hmm... in my opinion, Ishmael or Faust would be suitable. Who was he going to choose?
Ah, maybe Otis?
Dante didn't seem far off my guess either, since he looked back and forth between the three of them.
Come to think of it, it said tears.
Otis and Faust looked like the type who wouldn't shed even a drop of blood if you stabbed them, and since it felt awkward to even talk to them, maybe he'd move on to Ishmael?
Of course, Ishmael was about on the same level as the other two, but somehow it felt like that would happen. Half intuition, half observation, so it should be roughly right.
There it was. Just as simple as I thought.
"This should be manageable."
After the brief exchange, Ishmael went over and sat in the chair.
And then...
"Kyaaaaaaah!!!!"
A scream so sharp it raised goosebumps filled the room.
Tears kept streaming from Ishmael's eyes as she thrashed around in a way that was almost painful to watch.
How long had it been? Before long, the vessel was full of tears.
When Dante picked it up and placed it on the altar beside the door, the door opened with a soft sliding sound.
"Hah, hah... hah."
Ishmael's eyes kept trembling.
What had she seen? I'd glanced at her earlier, worried I might see something, but I couldn't make out anything at all.
"...Are you all right?"
"Y-yes... j-just a moment, please."
Unable to just stand there and watch, I took a handkerchief from my pocket and handed it to her.
"...Thank you."
Ishmael quickly wiped her eyes and took slow breaths.
I wondered if she'd recover soon...
After she wiped away all the tears, I took back the handkerchief and looked around, where I saw Dante holding a blue seal.
Was that what had been inside the door?
Apparently so.
Then I should go too.
"Take my hand. Let's move."
"...Thank you."
I helped Ishmael, who was still sitting there, to her feet and then joined Dante.
Red seal and blue seal... was there a yellow seal at the far end too?
*
Hmm...
"Gyaaaah!! Let go!! Let go, you sons of bitches!!!"
I, meaning Ishmael and I, were pressing Heathcliff's shoulders down.
That is, uh... keeping him from getting up from the chair covered in thorns.
"I'll kill you!!! Once I get up, I'll kill you all!!!"
If you want to understand why this situation happened, you have to go back to when we entered this room after a slightly difficult battle.
Then let's rewind a little.
This room, like the last one, had a huge door and a chair that looked like it was meant for torture.
The thorn-covered chair I'd just described.
And, as always, there was writing above the door.
[Pierce your body with thorns and atone for yourself through pain.]
"..."
The owner of the first seal, the red seal—namely me, who had died immediately and therefore didn't know this, though I'd heard I'd been with the lever on the heated path—and Ishmael, the owner of the blue seal, looked at each other.
"Hey, why do you keep shoving me? Let go of this thing, will you?"
"Heathcliff, it's not like we can be the only ones to suffer, right? So sit down quietly!"
"Why the hell are you acting up all of a sudden? Let go! I said let go!"
"How vulgar. You're definitely someone who needs to atone."
"Are you insane, you bitch? Dante, stop these two!"
<...>
Heathcliff looked at Dante with pleading eyes, asking him to stop them, but Dante chose to remain silent.
There it was. I knew it would come to this ever since he started calling him a clock-headed thing.
And the situation continued from before.
Creak, creak, creak.
"Let go! I said let go, you bastards!! The door's open already!!!"
"Was it? I can't hear you over all that barking."
"You filthy bitch!! I'm definitely going to crush your head!!!"
Only after waiting for Heathcliff to calm down did we pull him off the chair and set off again.
Hah... that felt good. I'd wanted to hit him every time he ran wild like that.
Wasn't it said that a gentleman's revenge is never too late, even after ten years? This was revenge for him crushing my head before.
...Though it did seem like I was building up grudges against several people lately, hmm... uh...
I'll offer a prayer for my future self in advance.
Yes, yes. I'm sure I'll handle it properly.
It's not like Heathcliff will just twist my arm and pin me down, and then Rosja, who happened to be passing by, will see it and ignore it.
I think I caught a glimpse of her coldly looking away while I rolled on the floor and cried out in misery, but that can't be right.
...Why do I know it in such detail?
Don't ask me about that...