Chapter 50: Evening
The academy grounds were beginning to empty by the time we locked the club room for the night.
The noisy excitement that had filled the campus all afternoon slowly faded into a calmer rhythm. Club members carried the last few boxes back to their storage rooms, teachers walked across the courtyard with folders tucked under their arms, and maintenance staff began checking the exhibition booths that had been assembled throughout the day.
The sky overhead had turned a deep orange, the evening sun hanging just above the rooftops and bathing the old academy buildings in warm light.
Ryan stretched both arms over his head until his shoulders cracked.
"I don’t think I’ve ever done this much manual labor."
Marcus glanced sideways at him.
"You spent twenty minutes trying on detective hats."
"That was important research."
"It wasn’t."
"It absolutely was."
Daniel laughed.
"I still think the brown one suited you better."
Ryan stopped walking.
"You liked the brown one?"
"I said it suited you."
"I knew it."
Marcus sighed.
"I regret saying anything."
The six of us walked toward the main gate together, bags hanging from our shoulders. Students passed by in small groups, discussing their own club preparations.
"The Music Club rented extra speakers."
"I heard the Robotics Club built an escape room."
"My cousin says the Culinary Club is making over five hundred desserts."
Ryan froze.
"...Five hundred?"
Ethan immediately grabbed his shoulder.
"No."
"I wasn’t going anywhere."
"You were."
"I was just... gathering information."
"You were calculating how many desserts you could steal."
"I prefer the word ’sample.’"
Noah shook his head with a faint smile.
"You have a remarkable ability to prove Marcus right."
Ryan looked genuinely confused.
"When?"
"When he calls you predictable."
"I am a complex individual."
Marcus replied without looking at him.
"No."
Daniel snorted.
"I think that’s the fastest answer you’ve ever given."
By the time we reached the academy gate, the group naturally split apart.
Marcus lived toward the western district.
Ryan and Daniel took the same bus for part of the journey.
Ethan headed in the opposite direction.
Noah adjusted the strap of his shoulder bag.
"I’ll see everyone tomorrow."
"Same time?"
Ryan asked.
"Eight-thirty."
"Don’t be late."
Ryan placed a hand over his heart.
"You wound me."
Marcus looked at him.
"You’ve been late three times this week."
"Those were isolated incidents."
"They were consecutive."
Ryan chose not to respond.
Everyone laughed before exchanging quick goodbyes.
Within a minute, I found myself walking home alone.
The city felt different in the evening.
The morning rush had disappeared, replaced by people returning from work, families shopping for groceries, and children chasing each other through the neighborhood parks before their parents called them home.
For a while, I simply walked without thinking.
The conversation with Noah from earlier kept replaying in my head.
He hadn’t accused me of anything.
He hadn’t demanded answers.
If anything...
He’d offered trust.
That somehow made me feel guiltier than suspicion ever could.
"...This is getting complicated."
A passing cyclist glanced at me after hearing me mutter to myself.
I pretended to cough and continued walking.
---
When I reached my apartment building, the hallway lights had already switched on automatically.
I unlocked the door, stepped inside, and immediately dropped my backpack beside the sofa.
Silence.
After spending an entire day surrounded by people, the apartment suddenly felt much larger than usual.
I loosened my tie, opened the windows to let in the cool evening air, and headed toward the kitchen.
Dinner was simple.
Rice.
Eggs.
Whatever vegetables happened to be left in the refrigerator.
Nothing fancy, but after today’s work, I wasn’t in the mood to cook anything complicated.
As the rice cooker quietly hummed beside me, my phone vibrated on the counter.
Ryan Carter
"...Again?"
I answered.
"What happened this time?"
"I’ve got another question."
"I figured."
Ryan cleared his throat dramatically.
"Hypothetically..."
"I already don’t like where this is going."
"If someone dies while holding a sandwich..."
I closed my eyes.
"...Ryan."
"What?"
"Why would they be holding a sandwich?"
"They got hungry before they died."
"That’s not helping."
Daniel’s laughter exploded through the speaker.
"He’s been asking us this for fifteen minutes."
Ryan defended himself immediately.
"It’s an important narrative detail."
Marcus’s voice joined the call.
"No."
"It isn’t."
Ryan ignored him.
"So?"
I leaned against the kitchen counter.
"Unless the sandwich is relevant to the mystery..."
"It shouldn’t be there."
"...What if the sandwich is secretly evidence?"
"No."
"What if—"
"No."
"What if—"
"No."
A long sigh came from Ryan’s end.
"You people have no imagination."
Daniel laughed even harder.
"We’ll see you tomorrow, Adrian."
"Try to get some sleep."
"I will."
The call ended.
I stared at the phone for a few seconds before laughing quietly.
They really had spent part of their evening arguing about a fictional sandwich.
For some reason...
That made me smile.
---
After dinner, I sat at the coffee table with my notebook one last time.
Most of the mystery had already been finished.
There were only a few clue descriptions left to polish.
As I wrote, I found myself comparing the current story to the original game again.
Back then...
Noah had spent these Chapters investigating the Frankenstein Killings almost entirely alone.
Ryan existed mostly as comic relief.
Marcus barely appeared outside a handful of scenes.
Daniel and Ethan were practically background characters.
Now...
All five of us had become a group.
A real one.
The story had changed so much that I could barely recognize parts of it anymore.
That should have frightened me.
Instead...
It felt strangely comforting.
A soft blue glow appeared beside the notebook.
______
[System Online]
______
"...You showed up on your own?"
______
[Response]
Confirmed.
______
"That’s unusual."
______
[Response]
Host emotional state has stabilized.
______
I blinked.
"...You can tell?"
______
[Response]
Confirmed.
______
"...That’s creepy."
The system offered no defense.
I leaned back in my chair.
"So..."
"What exactly counts as emotional stability?"
A brief pause followed.
______
[Response]
Host has formed meaningful interpersonal connections.
Psychological resilience has increased.
______
I read the message twice.
Meaningful interpersonal connections.
"...You mean the others."
______
[Response]
Confirmed.
______
For several seconds, neither of us said anything.
Then I asked the question that had been bothering me all day.
"Can they survive this story?"
The blue window remained perfectly still.
Long enough that I almost thought it wasn’t going to answer.
Finally—
______
[Response]
Unknown.
Future probability is no longer fixed.
______
Unknown.
Not impossible.
Not guaranteed.
Just...
Unknown.
The answer somehow felt heavier than either yes or no.
The blue window slowly faded away, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
Outside, rain began tapping softly against the window.
I hadn’t even noticed the clouds gathering.
The steady sound filled the apartment while distant thunder rolled somewhere beyond the city.
I closed the notebook.
"...Then I’ll just have to keep changing it."
No system window appeared this time.
No sarcastic comment.
No reward.
Just silence.
I switched off the living room light and walked toward the bedroom.
Tomorrow would be our final day of preparation before the exhibition.
After that...
The countdown would have less than twenty-four hours remaining.
Whatever the system called "the stage"...
It was almost ready.
And whether I wanted it or not...
The curtain was about to rise.