You’re Telling Me This Is a Slice-of-Life?

Whimpers, the scraping of nails against hard walls, and the sound of floorboards cracking under unbearable weight—these chaotic noises were carried by the night wind, drilling into Yuuki’s ears.

He leaned forward and looked down. Just one glance sent a sharp pain through his chest.

While he had been recovering his strength, the real corpse tide had fully formed. The view below was a dense, writhing mass stretching endlessly in the blood moon’s crimson glow, resembling a dark red surging tide.

The horde was scaling the outer walls, piling upon each other like a growing mound. They had nearly reached the third floor.

“Everyone, gather around. We need to talk—this isn’t working.” Li Dan clapped his hands, calling the group together. One look at them, and his face darkened with disappointment.

Most people were frozen in fear, their expressions vacant, cheeks twitching uncontrollably as if their ability to think had been stripped away. Only the black-haired boy kept his head down, seemingly deep in thought—but his trembling hands, clenched at the hem of his clothes, betrayed him.

“Talk about what? Let’s just fight our way out. You and I together—these things won’t stand a chance!” Thomas growled.

“And what about us? I already did what you wanted!” The office lady’s voice wavered with tears, her delicate appearance evoking sympathy.

“I never promised you’d live. And come on, just because you licked it a few times, you think it’s gold-plated now?” Thomas sneered, barely sparing her a glance before shifting his gaze to the other two. “You—your deposit wasn’t enough. And you—acting all coy? Strip right now, and I still wouldn’t be interested.”

“I’ll pay you a hundred million dollars!”

“What the hell is money to a dead man? If we go by what you’ve already paid, I might as well just cut your head off now—quick and painless. Better than getting torn apart alive, right? Pretty fair deal, don’t you think?”

The Rich Guy fell silent, his plump face trembling even more violently, caught between desperation and humiliation. The housewife, meanwhile, was too scared to speak, coughing as she clung to Li Dan with wide, pleading eyes.

This was the man who had shown them care when they entered the game. She had trusted him completely—even when he told her to stay by Thomas’s side, she had obeyed.

Li Dan had no intention of intervening in their petty infighting. Instead, he cast a quiet glance at the other three.

The blonde girl’s eyes remained bright but vacant—she clearly hadn’t grasped the situation. The black-haired girl was trying to mask her panic with forced composure. And Yuuki… he was frowning slightly, as if debating whether to speak, though the tension in his face suggested he was holding something back.

“In this game, experience doesn’t mean much. If you’ve got something to say, just say it,” Li Dan encouraged, as if taking a gamble on a lost cause.

“Uh, I just wanted to remind everyone… time is running out. The ghouls aren’t our biggest problem.” Yuuki hesitated, then raised his wrist.

The watch face was cracked, but the hands were still moving.

“Go on.”

“It’s 7:30 AM now. The first monsters appeared around 4 AM. That means we don’t have much time left.”

Silence fell over the rooftop. The only sound left was their ragged breathing.

Right. According to Hint 4, “gifts” arrived at intervals. The timing wasn’t exact, but the next one had to be coming soon.

“Li Dan, you wanna die with these idiots?” Thomas snapped, his urgency growing.

“I… this…”

“Mr. Thomas, if I may be blunt—breaking through won’t help. As long as the blood moon hangs in the sky, none of us are making it out alive.”

“Who the hell asked for your opinion?!”

The band guy shot Yuuki a withering glare, his presence as menacing as a beast about to pounce. Practically shoving his face into Yuuki’s, he snarled, “And what, dragging you lot along is gonna change that?!”

Li Dan didn’t intervene.  Hayasaka Ai’s fingers twitched slightly, and though Yuuki’s face was pale with fear, he stubbornly held his ground.

“It might. While exploring the castle, I found a clue—something that might help us survive.”

Thomas didn’t look convinced. If anything, his expression was full of contempt. “Oh great, making up stories now? Seen plenty of dumbasses like you before.”

“Yeah, it’s a story. But it’s better than nothing.”

“Then let’s hear it.”

“Not yet. What if you ditch me after I tell you?”

Thomas didn’t respond. He only stared at Yuuki with a dangerously unreadable expression, watching his face twitch with fear, his words almost tripping over themselves.

Was he really scared? Or was he bluffing?

“In this game, everyone has a chance to pull off a miracle. And don’t forget—Yuuki is the only one here who’s killed a monster.” Li Dan firmly gripped Thomas’s shoulder and gave it two gentle pats.

“No matter if it’s true or not, we have to try to find out. Besides, just like he said, even if the two of us break through, we’d only survive a few more hours — it would be meaningless.”

Thomas scoffed but backed off. Yuuki, however, didn’t look relieved. He had expected this reaction.

His gaze flicked to Li Dan’s hand on Thomas’s shoulder. Then, as Li Dan turned away, Yuuki resumed his nervous, uncertain act—though now with a flicker of gambler’s resolve in his eyes.

“Yuuki, we’re trusting you. Now talk.”

“Alright, then let’s get moving.” Yuuki gritted his teeth and pointed behind him. “First, we need to get to that rooftop over there.”

“And then?”

“Then we find a way to jump from that building to the outer wall. I need to verify something.”

“You’re insane! Why the hell would we leave the highest ground for somewhere lower? The ghouls will just climb up even faster!”

The housewife, who had been silent until now, shrieked mid-cough. In a situation like this, instinct dictated seeking the highest ground.

But this game went against instinct. Against logic.

Yuuki knew exactly what they were all thinking. Even Hayasaka Ai and Sakurajima Mai looked unconvinced. But he didn’t bother explaining.

“If we stay here, we’re dead. Don’t forget how we survive beginner guide.”

That flower-brained guide from the start—no matter if you charged head-on or ran away, you had a chance to live. The only guaranteed way to die? Standing still.

This wasn’t the same situation, of course. But on a deeper level, maybe it was.

“He’s right. The worst choice in this game is doing nothing. As long as we move, we have a chance.” Li Dan nodded, his veteran instincts kicking in. No more hesitation.

“Yuuki, we’re all in your hands now!”

It sounded like a lot of pressure. But was it? They were dead either way if they stayed put.

Yuuki didn’t feel pressured at all. He simply tightened his expression and nodded firmly. “I’m not about to gamble with my own life.”

The team sprang into action. Even those reluctant to leave the “safe” rooftop had no choice but to follow when the others moved.

A five to six-meter gap stretched between the buildings. A glance down revealed nothing but a churning sea of “jam.” Before anyone could panic, Li Dan produced something from thin air—like a magician pulling a trick.

“This is an mutated item—Grappling Gun. Max range: 200 meters. Just by holding onto the rope, you can automatically slide up or down.”

As expected of a veteran player — he’s got plenty of cards.

Yuuki had suspected Li Dan had an escape item, but he hadn’t expected something this convenient. Still, it saved a lot of trouble.

Li Dan fired the grappling hook. The spike lodged into the opposite rooftop, and he grabbed the rope. A jelly-like substance oozed from his fingers, sticking him to it.

Without exerting any effort, he slid smoothly across—like riding an escalator.

Seeing how safe it was, the others quickly followed. Only Thomas ignored it, leaping the gap in a single bound.

‘At least peak-level physical strength.’

Yuuki ran with his head down, secretly observing the others. He noticed that most people, after landing, would give their hands a light shake — the sensation of hanging from a bar wasn’t exactly pleasant. Only that frail housewife seemed completely unfazed, landing smoothly before following the group without missing a beat.

The floor level had dropped by several meters, and the tide of corpses surged toward them, drawn by the scent. The sound of nails scraping against the walls grew sharper — like a death knell urging them to run faster.

“Are you sure this is okay? At this pace, the horde will climb up within a minute.” Hayasaka Ai lowered her voice, sounding utterly unconvinced.

A moment ago, they were at least temporarily safe. Now they’d plunged into crisis — except for the two veteran players, the others wouldn’t even have a chance to fight back.

Yuuki didn’t answer. He simply glanced ahead. The wall dipped a few meters lower, and the stone steps on the inner side meant the ghouls wouldn’t even need to climb. But thanks to the elevation difference, he finally caught a glimpse of what lay beyond the wall.

A sea of writhing corpses stretched out, filling the hundred-meter space.

And beyond that—

A thick, blood-red mist.