Anime Crossover: Tokyo Reincarnation Game — Chapter 66

Chapter 66: Abnormally Low Difficulty

“Then…” Kato Megumi stood before the apartment door. She took a slow, deep breath, forcing her voice to remain as steady as possible. “I’ll open the door now?”

“Yes, open it,” Asagiri replied.

“Okay…”

She reached out, her fingers wrapping around the cold metal of the doorknob. Pressing down gently, the security door clicked and swung outward with a faint creak.

She had never imagined a day would come where the simple act of turning a handle and stepping outside would fill her with such suffocating dread. Yet, despite the cold sweat clinging to her palms, Megumi gathered her courage and stepped over the threshold.

Her reason for joining this team was entirely ordinary. She didn’t want to die. More specifically, she refused to die inside this twisted game. If she perished in an instance, her body would likely never return to the real world. Her parents would be left without closure. They would cling to the agonizing, slim hope that their missing daughter was still alive out there somewhere, a false comfort that would haunt them for the rest of their lives.

Because of that, Megumi had made a silent vow: no matter how terrifying the instance became, she would absolutely not give up.

“Roar…”

The moment her foot hit the corridor tiles, a low, guttural sound scraped through the air. Less than ten meters away stood a zombie. Its clothes were shredded and heavily stained with dried blood, and an entire chunk of its neck was simply missing, exposing jagged bone. It paced aimlessly, emitting a wet, beast-like growl.

Megumi’s heart skipped a beat. Panic flared, but she immediately raised her right hand, gesturing behind her back to signal Asagiri and the others to hold their positions.

Then, she activated her exclusive talent: Weak Presence.

Without a weapon, she stepped forward. She walked directly toward the rotting corpse.

“Roar… Roar…”

Five meters. Three meters. One meter.

Megumi stopped right in front of the creature, close enough to smell the rancid decay rolling off its skin. The zombie’s clouded, lifeless eyes swept right past her. It didn’t pause. It didn’t flinch. It simply stared through her as if she were nothing more than empty air, making absolutely no aggressive movements.

‘My talent… is it really this effective?’she thought, her pulse hammering in her ears.’I’m standing right in front of it and it hasn’t noticed me at all. Or is a zombie’s perception just so inherently flawed that it can’t see through my skill even at point-blank range?’

Careful not to make any sudden sounds, she slowly backed away, retreating step by step until she crossed back into the apartment. Only when she was safely beside Asagiri and the others did she let out a shaky exhale.

Keeping her voice to a hushed whisper to avoid drawing the monster’s attention, she reported her findings. “It seems there’s only one zombie in the corridor. I just tested it. Even at point-blank range, as long as my talent is active, it cannot detect my presence.”

“Megumi’s talent is really amazing…” Yuuki Asuna murmured in quiet awe.

The mechanics of Weak Presence were strict. Moving while the talent was active continuously drained Megumi’s stamina and mental energy. Given her current, thoroughly average physical fitness, one minute of movement was her absolute limit.

However, if she remained perfectly still, the energy consumption dropped to zero, and the concealment effect actually grew stronger.

In theory, even if she had entered this survival instance entirely alone, she could have simply found a dark closet, activated her talent, and stood perfectly still for the ten-hour time limit. She would easily achieve the primary objective of surviving, just as she had in her previous game.

But that method had a fatal flaw: surviving by hiding yielded an abysmal clearance rating and pathetic rewards. If she relied solely on her talent to scrape by, it was only a matter of time before she encountered an Evil Spirit or a monster with ultra-high perception. When that day came, she would have zero combat ability to defend herself, leading to an immediate Game Over.

“They placed a standard zombie right outside the Player’s teleportation point…?”

Asagiri smiled. It was a satisfied, almost disappointed expression that left Megumi momentarily confused.

“As expected of a first-stage instance,” he noted dryly. “The difficulty is far too low.”

Without another word, Asagiri strolled over to the living room sofa, picked up a decorative throw cushion, and casually tossed it toward Asuna.

Asuna didn’t ask questions. She caught the cushion with her left hand, her eyes locking onto Asagiri’s for a fraction of a second. A silent consensus was reached. She pivoted and walked straight out the open front door.

“Roar…”

The instant Asuna stepped into the corridor without concealment, the wandering zombie snapped its head toward her. It let out a ravenous snarl, unhinging its jaw as it shambled in her direction at the speed of a brisk walk.

It never even got close.

Asuna closed the distance in a blur of motion. A cold arc of steel flashed in the dim light. With surgical precision, her Exorcist Longsword severed the zombie’s arms and legs in a single, fluid sequence of strikes. As the creature collapsed into a limbless stump, she simultaneously slammed the sofa cushion over its bloodied face.

“Mumble… mumble…”

With its mouth completely gagged by the thick fabric, the monster’s terrifying roars were instantly reduced to muffled, pathetic whimpers, sounding bizarrely like a wronged puppy.

Megumi stared blankly at the scene. She looked at Asuna, then at Asagiri and Iwanaga Kotoko, who had casually stepped out into the hall to observe. Neither of them looked remotely surprised.

Megumi’s mind ground to a halt.

‘Why are you all so incredibly efficient?’she screamed internally.’Have you seriously reached a level of cooperation where you can coordinate a brutal dismemberment just by tossing a pillow and making eye contact?!’

“Alright, let’s see what we have here…”

While Megumi was still paralyzed by culture shock, Asagiri walked over and crouched down on one knee in front of the writhing, limbless zombie. He tilted his head, watching it struggle uselessly against the cushion.

He sighed, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Ah, how pitiful. Don’t worry, I’ll put you out of your misery soon.”

Hearing his gentle tone, Megumi felt a brief flicker of relief. ‘Utsunomiya-san might be a bit eccentric, but deep down, he really is an empathetic and kind per—’

Her thoughts derailed.

Wait. What was he holding?

It was his Rope Dart—a vicious, heavy steel blade attached to a long metal chain.

Wait, why was he slowly aiming the razor-sharp tip directly at the zombie’s wide-open, frantic eye?

Without a hint of hesitation, Asagiri steadily drove the steel point of the dart straight into the zombie’s left eyeball. Foul, blackened blood welled up and spilled down the creature’s cheek. Asagiri’s expression didn’t change; there was no disgust, no flinching. He just watched the reaction with clinical detachment.

“When a sharp object approached its eye, the pupil didn’t contract, and the eyelid didn’t attempt to blink,” Asagiri muttered, twisting the blade slightly. “It lacks the basic instinctive danger responses of a living creature, and it clearly doesn’t comprehend fear. It’s the most basic, bottom-tier variant of a zombie. Just like the diary stated, it can’t even run.”

“This difficulty… isn’t it a bit too low?” Asuna frowned, looking down at the pathetic creature. “When the door was wide open earlier, it didn’t smell us. Its olfactory senses are nowhere near as sharp as a wild animal’s. And even standing this close, it doesn’t seem to register our low voices.”

She wiped her blade clean. “Judging from the resistance when I cut through its joints, its physical durability is equal to, or perhaps slightly weaker than, an average human. It can’t sprint. And based on the rules, even if it bites or scratches you, you won’t contract a zombie virus.”

Asuna crossed her arms. “As long as an ordinary person has full mobility and a decent long-reach weapon like a baseball bat, killing this thing would be trivial. You’d only die if you let yourself get surrounded. Even for a first-stage instance, this is absurdly simple. Compared to that Hotel instance we survived, this is a walk in the park.”

Hearing her assessment, Asagiri casually yanked the Rope Dart out of the ruined eye socket.

“If you look at the instances in this game from a structural perspective, they function exactly like exams,” Asagiri explained, wiping the blade on the zombie’s remaining clothes. “They are designed to test whether the ‘students’—the Players—meet the passing requirements for specific survival traits. The first newcomer instance tested raw courage and the ability to maintain composure under extreme pressure. The second instance tested caution, resourcefulness, and keen observation.”

He stood up, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Passing the exam means clearing the instance. Scoring exceptionally well grants bonus rewards. So, instead of just reacting, we should reverse-engineer the test. It’s like predicting an examiner’s questions. We analyze the environment to figure out exactly what trait the system is trying to test us on this time. Once we know the subject of the exam, we can accurately predict the hidden dangers.”

Iwanaga Kotoko stepped forward, her cane tapping softly against the floor. She looked down at the zombie’s single remaining eye. “Could the true danger of this instance be the so-called Special Infected?”

“Special Infected definitely exist here, but I doubt they are the primary hurdle meant for the general player base,” Asagiri replied, his tone flat and analytical. “Based on the patterns we’ve seen, the system rarely forces Players to rely purely on brute strength to clear an objective—at least not in the first phase. Forceful, violent breakthroughs are a sequence-breaking route reserved for high-tier Players like us. Therefore, there has to be a ‘normal’ route where ordinary people can achieve a high completion rating using their brains. This game isn’t just a meat grinder designed to torture people; it’s an evolutionary filter, cultivating capable Players through escalating trials.”

“Hmm… we still have too little data to draw a definitive conclusion,” Kotoko mused.

As she spoke, she locked her gaze directly with the zombie’s frantic right eye and activated her skill: Curse Gaze.

The effect was instantaneous. The pupil of the zombie’s remaining eye dilated massively. Its limbless body convulsed violently against the floor for two seconds, and then it went completely, permanently still. Dead.

“The skill took effect,” Kotoko said, a faint, elegant smile touching her lips. “It appears these basic zombies possess absolutely no defense against mental interference. Their resistance to psychic attacks might actually be in the negatives.”

She looked up at the group. “So, my skills and Megumi’s talent will function perfectly fine here.”