‘…Why is this here?’

Rosha had tried Snickers chocolate bars before.

She would have preferred plain chocolate. She didn’t like the sticky nougat part clinging to her teeth.

However, one of Rosha’s former comrades had an almost pathological obsession with sweets, and Snickers bars were among her favorites.

“…I had tried not to dwell on the previous world.”

Gazing down at the rustling wrapper, Rosha muttered softly, keenly aware of Froy’s watchful gaze upon her.

That world she had departed from after choosing between two paths.

The choice itself had been swift, yet far from easy. To let go of those she had lived with like family for 18 years.

“…”

But the thought of potentially reuniting with them stirred a whirlwind of emotions.

Her suspicions held ample grounds.

The abruptly arriving Snickers wrapper.

Someone who had acquired the secret shop’s limited stock first.

And the ambiguously set quest time limit.

‘2 days, 6 hours? Doesn’t it usually follow 12-hour increments?’

The blue windows favored precise numbers.

The death penalty imposed on everyone, a detail she had initially glossed over, now resurfaced like a lingering afterimage.

Doubts, anticipation, tension… a mosaic of conflicting hues, which she deliberately suppressed.

First, she needed to ascertain whether her conjectures held any truth.

After swiftly concluding her business at the secret shop, Rosha tucked her purchases into her cape’s inner pockets and said :

“We should survey the surrounding area.”

“Do you think there is anyone else in this city besides us?”

“Yes.”

“From your previous world?”

Froy got right to the point. Despite her lack of a proper explanation, his perception was remarkably sharp.

When met with an inquisitive gaze prompting how he had deduced as much, he replied:

“That rustling paper. Your murmurs. And your expression differed slightly from usual.”

“…Is that so? It seemed the same to me.”

Rosha studied her own features, briefly wondering if the composure she had cultivated as a magician in the raiding party was becoming too easily compromised.

‘Perhaps Froy is gradually learning to read my expressions as well.’

Just as she could roughly interpret his.

While it could potentially become a vulnerability, the notion was unexpectedly reassuring.

Anyway.

They deliberately took a circuitous route back towards their group’s location, surveying their surroundings along the way. Froy’s spatial perception ability eliminated the need for meticulous house-to-house searches, being convenient.

Unfortunately, despite the city’s considerable size, their efforts were futile.

“The sun is setting, Rosha. Let’s return for now.”

“…Yes, I suppose we must.”

Rosha looked up at the sky with a tinge of reluctance.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the crimson twilight hues had mostly dissipated, the heavens turning indigo.

‘The sky looks the same everywhere, doesn’t it?’

Perhaps due to the trial’s extraordinary circumstances, she found herself uncharacteristically wistful as they prepared to depart.

Crackle-

Suddenly, the lamps of a shop along the street they traversed turned on.

Instinctively glancing towards the illuminated storefront, Rosha soon realized it wasn’t the only one.

The entire street was inexplicably brightening, causing her to start in surprise.

‘…All of a sudden?’

The once-deserted city had transformed into a brilliantly lit spectacle within an instant.

Simultaneously, people who had been utterly absent during the day began materializing from thin air, one by one.

Manifest like hazy phantoms, they nonchalantly resumed their daily routines, prompting Froy to call out to her:

“…Rosha.”

“Just when I thought it was too quiet, it seems we’re about to begin.”

Tension surged through her previously contemplative state.

Having initially given the impression of an unpopulated city, this ‘unknown’ trial laced with unspecified parameters had finally arrived in earnest.

“Let’s hurry.”

Without prompting, they clasped hands tightly, initially intending to use Froy’s ability to swiftly rejoin their group.

Yet as always within the trials, unexpected problems soon arise.

More often than not, it manifested as a blue window.

Ding!

Night has commenced.

All survivors will be summoned to the theater’s waiting room shortly.

…Summoned?

Before she could process this development, a countdown resounded, leaving no opportunity for further contemplation.

5

4

3

2

1

* * *

Before their visit to the secret shop, Rosha’s group had established a set of hand signals.

Among them was one specifically intended as verification, just in case someone approached them imitating their appearance.

“Ah, you’ve arrived!”

As the blinding light dissipated, the theater’s waiting room came into view.

Lysithea, who had been pacing beneath the opulent chandeliers, hurried over to Rosha without delay, duly forming the ‘V’ signal with her index and middle fingers to confirm their identities.

Relieved to see the others responding with the predetermined signals as they approached, it seemed their entire party had been summoned to this location without exception.

It was then that Cassis, striding purposefully towards them, asked while eyeing Rosha’s hand:

“How long do you intend to hold on like that?”

“Ah.”

Only then did Rosha release her grip on Froy’s hand, revealing reddened imprints from how tightly she had been clutching it.

“…I was worried we might get separated during the summoning.”

Cassis’s disapproving gaze resembled that of an exasperated older brother, yet Froy merely offered an amused shrug as he withdrew his hand.

It was at that precise moment.

“Loitering about, are we?”

An unfamiliar, childlike voice rang out.

Swiftly turning, they noticed a diminutive female figure seated on a long bench in the corner of the waiting room – a presence they had initially overlooked entirely.

With a petite stature and a face akin to a middle school student, her distinctive attire seemed vaguely familiar, yet her solitary state was truly perplexing.

Cassis bristled in response:

“And just who are you? What’s with the sudden hostility?”

“Well, isn’t it amusing how you’re all joking around when who knows what might happen next?”

“So you’re claiming to know what’s going to happen?”

“You bet I do.”

The girl retorted curtly.

However her doleful expression hinting at unimaginable ordeals – as if she had lost all her comrades here, prompting a momentary pause.

Perhaps that was indeed the reason for her solitary state.

“But there’s no need for me to explain. An explanation should appear soon enough, so just read that.”

As she had suggested, a blue window soon manifested before them all, its contents revealing:

You are an actor performing in the play ‘The Perishing City’ at this theater.

Specific settings will be decided by a roulette spin, with difficulty and roles automatically assigned based on the combat prowess of actors present in the waiting room.

Calculating combat prowess…

If three successful performances conclude, you may meet the playwright.

The playwright.

Presumably, this referred to the entity they would need to overcome as the trial’s culminating adversary.

Akin to the Ice Queen’s palace in the third trial, this realm appeared structured such that adhering to its rules was the only path to confronting the final monster.

‘For now, we should abide by the rules.’

It was then that a brief blue window flashed, indicating the combat prowess calculations had concluded.

You are the ‘Main Character 1’.

The assigned roles appeared displayed above each person’s head, publicly visible to all.

However, the designated difficulty level wasn’t explicitly stated.

‘The difficulty level…’

While the specific criteria for determining it remained unclear, it likely correlated with their combined combat prowess.

In that case, they could only hope Heres would refrain from sandbagging his capabilities.

Around that time…

“…Why?”

Noticing everyone’s gazes suddenly trained upon her, Rosha asked with bewilderment, sensing an air of concern despite their silence.

“…”

Furtive glances were exchanged.

Then Cassis, arguably the least perceptive of the group, bluntly addressed the elephant in the room:

“You… acting… how will you handle that?”

“Acting? Why would I need to act?”

Surely she could manage, couldn’t she?