For that man, Hisui, this was the most detestable place in the world—the very transparent box he was now trapped inside. A direct elevator to the thirty-fifth floor of a luxury hotel. As if that weren't enough, this iron box was constructed with three walls of fully reinforced glass, a design that could only be described as sheer madness. The architect must have been a sadist. For Hisui, it was nothing more than a transparent execution device.

He stood facing the doors, maintaining a rigid, upright posture. His gaze never once turned toward the glass. The seams in the floor, or the stainless steel doors—that was all he needed to see. Behind him stretched a void over a hundred meters above the ground. Just imagining it made his insides feel like they were turning inside out. He felt a dizzying illusion that his sense of balance was going haywire and his brain was boiling. Yes, Hisui, feared in the underworld, suffered from an extreme fear of heights. There was already another occupant in this hellish box. you. Hisui couldn't afford to let you see his pathetic state, and desperately maintained his poker face.

And then it happened. GAGANG! GAGAGA! With a violent screech of brakes, the elevator came to a halt mid-air. Only the red glow of the emergency light illuminated the dim box.