Izumi had lost track of time.
The pit of corpses had swallowed him whole, and the stench of death clung to his skin like a curse. His body ached from the fall, his severed hands still throbbing despite the potion his sister had given him. He was alive—but barely.
Above him, the sound of chains rattling signaled that the monster was still there, pacing restlessly. It had been watching him.
At first, he ignored it. He ignored everything—the monster, the corpses, the pain. He needed to preserve his strength. But hunger gnawed at his insides, growing stronger with every passing hour.
His stomach clenched. How long had it been?
Izumi tried to push the thought away. He needed to focus. There had to be something here—anything to eat.
Forcing himself to move, he searched the bodies around him. Some had tattered armor, others had broken weapons. He reached into a corpse's pocket, only to find nothing but a small, torn notebook.
No rations. No food. Nothing.
His breathing grew ragged. Damn it.
The hunger grew worse, making his vision blur. His arms felt heavy. His body was shutting down.
Then—a terrible thought crossed his mind.
Meat.
His hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. No. That was insane. He was human. He wouldn't cross that line.
But as the minutes stretched into hours, his body betrayed him. His hunger screamed.
He had to live.
Izumi's eyes darted toward the bodies. His stomach churned. He forced himself to look away, biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood.
But then—his gaze landed on something different.
Amidst the human corpses, there was one that stood out.
It wasn't human. Its limbs were twisted, its skin an unnatural shade of gray. Unlike the others, it had claws instead of fingers, and faint markings covered its body.
Izumi's breath hitched.
This… wasn't a normal body.
It was a failed experiment.
One of the discarded sacrifices meant to fuel the tower's transformation.
His fingers trembled as he reached for it.
This isn't human. It's a monster.
That thought gave him the strength to move.
His hands shook as he grabbed the corpse's arm. The skin was cold and rubbery, the scent of decay making his stomach twist. Everything in him screamed to stop.
But he didn't.
He bit down.
The taste was vile.
It was worse than he imagined—bitter, rotten, disgusting. His body rejected it immediately, bile rising in his throat. He gagged, nearly vomiting, but he forced himself to chew.
He had no choice.
If he didn't eat, he would die here.
Tears stung his eyes as he swallowed. His stomach still burned, still rebelled against what he had done. But—at least it wasn't empty anymore.
He exhaled shakily, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.
I made it this far. I won't die here.
After a while, his eyes landed on something half-buried beneath a corpse.
A book.
The cover was worn, the pages slightly yellowed. Someone had been clutching it tightly, even in death.
Izumi hesitated. Then, with a weak but steady hand, he pulled the book free.
Something about it felt… different.