Fushimi Roku was troubled by his homework, while Miyazaki Shizuka was worried sick about killing and silencing her victims. Both felt under immense pressure, though compared to Minamoto Tamako's predicament, their troubles seemed trivial.

Minamoto Tamako felt like she was in Hell.

She had died inexplicably three times: The first time she woke up, she was merely passing through the living room and was strangled by a woman sitting on the sofa; the second time, she heard the doorbell and went to greet the visitor, only to be stabbed to death by them; the third time, learning from her previous deaths, she decided to stay in the attic and not go out.

The whole world was draped in a dim, eerie, terrifying hue, with an oppressive smell of decay permeating the air.

A little boy living in the attic tried to communicate with her, but unfortunately, she couldn't speak Chinese. They spent ages gesturing to each other to understand the basics—only then did Minamoto Tamako realize that in this dream, she was playing the role of a stray cat that turns into a girl at midnight.

What kind of bizarre setting was this?

Minamoto Tamako was clueless; the attic environment felt unfamiliar, and everyone spoke Chinese. The little boy before her wore a T-shirt and jeans, with a gloomy expression, not at all resembling Fushimi Roku, a person who she couldn't even recall being in her memory.

Who am I? Where am I? Where do I come from and where am I going?

Her mind was plagued by existential questions, and before she could get a grip on the situation, she was killed by a woman who burst into the attic. Hiding doesn't save her from death.

The fourth time she woke up, Minamoto Tamako realized she'd lost about a year's worth of memories. Only then did she realize the gravity of the situation—not only was it terrible to repeatedly experience dying in the dream, but if her memories started dissipating with each death, wasn't she experiencing a slow death?

What to do?

How can she wake up?

Minamoto Tamako was anxious and remembered that before she lost consciousness, Nishino Fuyu had stated, "The woman standing behind you is the guest"—meaning that the gentle and kind Doctor Miyazaki, full of maternal radiance, could well be the true culprit behind the random murders!

Those victims, hypnotized, never woke up before they died.

Especially Nishino Ruta, who began eating the patrol police's face on the street, only stopping after taking five bullets... What nightmare was he trapped in at the time? Was it like hers, repeatedly experiencing death until his memory completely vanished?

The more Minamoto Tamako thought, the more frightened she became, feeling utterly lost.

Even if she were the reincarnation of the master detective Sherlock Holmes, she couldn't showcase her talents in a dream, because dreams didn't follow logic... How could she possibly deduce that she is now a talking cat?

Calm down! Tamako, there must be a way!

Minamoto Tamako bit her thumbnail, crossed her arms, and paced the attic. The gloomy boy reminded her that dense footsteps would bring his mother up. Sadly, Minamoto Tamako didn't understand Chinese; she absently meowed, indicating her current state as a cat unable to comprehend human speech.

The gloomy boy sighed, seemingly helpless, appearing dragged into trouble. To prevent his mother from coming upstairs, he grabbed Minamoto Tamako's hand and led her to stand before the mirror.

"Uh? I'm not in the mood to look at myself in the mirror..."

As she spoke, Minamoto Tamako glanced at the mirror and realized there was no reflection. The attic was there, but looking older, lacking signs of life, with a layer of dust on the ground.

What's going on?

Before Minamoto Tamako could react, the gloomy boy grabbed her hand and led her towards the mirror.

"Hey! Wait——"

Minamoto Tamako exclaimed in shock, her eyes wide open. The boy walked into the mirror as if penetrating a transparent film, entering another world.

Stumbling, she followed him into the mirror.

Dust rushed towards her, causing Minamoto Tamako to cough uncontrollably. She waved her hands, trying to dispel the dust, her eyes watering from the mold.

"Cough cough—cough cough cough! Where is this place?"

Minamoto Tamako wondered if this dream could host an even more terrifying place? Just like the settings in a fantasy novel, there was a surface world and an inner world, traversed through the mirror. The surface world was peaceful, while the inner world was absolutely terrifying...

She swallowed nervously, cold sweat dripping down. The silence around her was frightening; no sounds could be heard.

The gloomy boy bent down and lifted the floorboards, revealing a wooden ladder beneath, and he descended first; Minamoto Tamako couldn't stay behind and quickly followed.

One after the other, they slid down the ladder, where dim lighting prevailed, with only a hint of yellow firelight peeking from the corner of the corridor.

Minamoto Tamako looked around and found that the corridor was exactly the same as before, especially the semi-open living room. She had passed by it earlier and died next to the liquor shelf.

Hiss, could she die again?

Minamoto Tamako didn't want to die again, so she quickly waved at the gloomy boy, signaling him to hide in the bathroom with her, hoping they could escape through the bathroom window.

But the gloomy boy ignored her once more and walked straight into the semi-open living room. Minamoto Tamako vaguely heard laughter and cautiously followed. She stood at the corner and peeked inside, seeing a cake on the coffee table with three people gathered around it singing a birthday song.

Several candles were placed on the cake, and the warm yellow light flickered slightly, rendering the scene warm and dreamy, like an unreal colorful bubble.

Minamoto Tamako had seen the woman sitting on the sofa before; she was the crazy woman who inexplicably killed her earlier. Now, her face looked particularly gentle under the warm light. Next to her sat a man with his arm around her shoulders, clearly her husband, and the tenderness in his eyes showed that their relationship was very good.

As for the boy in the middle, he was lost in happiness with a blissfully ignorant look, his hands clasped together, eyes closed, making a wish.

Minamoto Tamako looked back at the gloomy boy beside her. Despite their vastly different temperaments, they looked exactly the same.

Turns out this is the real surface world of happiness and peace.

Minamoto Tamako had just breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the gloomy boy step forward and roughly pull up the cheerful boy. They engaged in a not-so-friendly conversation, but unfortunately, Minamoto Tamako couldn't understand what they were saying. She could only notice that the couple sitting on the sofa seemed like puppets. They weren't surprised by the appearance of another boy, maintaining gentle smiles as they watched the two boys argue.

Such strangeness.

Minamoto Tamako felt a bit uneasy and planned to slip away. But unexpectedly, just as the two boys finished quarreling, they seemed to reach some sort of consensus and both turned to look at Minamoto Tamako.

Minamoto Tamako was startled. Being stared at by them made her uneasy. Besides the gloomy boy, the other cheerful boy didn't seem like someone easy to deal with either. His scrutinizing gaze had an air of maturity that seemed beyond his age.

"Wh-what's up?"

She stammered out a sentence in Chinese, considering it quite graceful to speak Chinese in Japan. Girls from noble families would know a few Chinese characters, and she naturally knew some common phrases, responsible for writing a few calligraphy characters to congratulate relatives during festivals or special occasions, showcasing her calligraphy and scholarly demeanor.

The later popular samurai calligraphy that came from Japan looked quite sleek, yet professional calligraphers sneered at it, finding the style ugly and devoid of charm.

Minamoto Tamako thought that the next interaction would be another difficult conversation, requiring piecing together words and gestures to communicate. Unexpectedly, the cheerful boy spoke fluent Japanese: "How did you get in here?"

"Eh? I, I... I don't know how I got in here either." Minamoto Tamako scratched her head, turned, and pointed to the corridor: "He led me through the mirror, and then I came in..."

The cheerful boy sighed, seemingly despising her stupidity. The expression was too familiar, involuntarily reminding her of Fushimi Roku—that person also liked to sigh disdainfully, shifting his gaze nonchalantly when he despised others, scornfully curling his lips.

Could this guy be Fushimi-kun's brother?

Minamoto Tamako thought it very possible. After all, given the precedent of Taira Sakurako, perhaps Fushimi-kun had one or two younger brothers who died young, thus plaguing his mind, making him dream about it... The only issue was, why did his brother seem Chinese?

So strange, completely incomprehensible.

The cheerful boy didn't press further but took the initiative to explain their current situation: Minamoto Tamako was in Fushimi Roku's mental world, and it was a crucial place, roughly equivalent to his Heart Acupoint. In layman's terms, it's the 'heart knot'.

The so-called Heart Acupoint is probably a person's deep inner weakness. The cheerful boy didn't elaborate, only casually mentioned it—this is when Minamoto Tamako learned that even the seemingly invincible Fushimi-kun had things he feared.

The gloomy boy added a few sentences on the side, but unfortunately, Minamoto Tamako couldn't understand. The cheerful boy then helped translate, mainly to make Minamoto Tamako aware of the current serious danger:

Once a psychologist understands a patient's 'Heart Acupoint', they can exploit it, magnify it infinitely, and completely destroy the person's mind. It sounds like a fatal flaw in martial arts novels.

Everyone has a Heart Acupoint. For instance, the indulgent are obsessed with lust, the snobbish with money, and the idle who seem carefree actually dabble in indulgence, money, and pleasure.

The more seemingly uninhibited on the surface, the stronger the Heart Acupoint buried deep inside.

Of course, Fushimi Roku was aware of his weakness. He hadn't yet encountered psychologists back then, but he didn't want to be affected by his heart knot anymore and planned to start a brand new life, so he used an exceptionally unique skill he accidentally acquired.

—"Memory Overwrite"

That's right. He rewrote his own memories, turning his childhood into a happy family and erased the process of rewriting his memories.

However, his Heart Acupoint didn't disappear. Instead, it was hidden deeper, rooted more firmly, like invisible tentacles in the dark, gradually devouring his mind without him realizing it.

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