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"——Continue."

There was no flicker of emotion in Annan's eyes.

If one thought that such a thing could move him, that was far too naïve.

He had already made up his mind to kill Denton, nothing could make Annan reconsider that decision.

It was only a choice between death and pain... Isn't that what life is essentially about?

Denton still had not appeared.

The scene before Annan shifted once more.

This time there were no cries from the portraits; the world changed quietly.

When he opened his eyes again, he found himself in an extremely dim world, akin to a giant penholder — below were densely packed heads while above was the only source of light.

He himself was clutching a very thin rope, climbing upwards.

The rope seemed almost at its breaking point, incredibly taut.

Annan felt as though he was realizing something.

He looked down to see many others clutching the same slender rope beneath him.