Something is wrong

As soon as Ken's back leaned on the chair, he felt his eyes closing.

He didn't resist, he was dead tired and he knew it.

He dreamt of the fight. The fight between the strongest sorcerer of history and the strongest sorcerer of today.

The legendary fight that would decide the fate of the world.

And it ended horribly, with Gojo being sliced in half.

Ken screamed with all of his might as did many others next to him.

To them, this scene was straight out of their worst nightmare, a symbol of despair and struggle.

Ken could only curse himself for being weak.

"Sir, you need to wake up."

"Hmm?" His eyes opened and slowly gained clarity as the fog within it disappeared.

'Ah right, Gojo isn't dead yet. There's still hope.'

"Sir, are you okay?"

"Sorry, I was deep in thought. How long have I been asleep?"

"Around 10 minutes sir. You can't sleep in the lobby, go to the rented cubicle for that."

"Ah got it, thanks for reminding me."

He got up, yawned a bit and walked up to a row of cubicles.

"Wait sir, you haven't paid the fee for a cubicle yet. You can't go to one unless you pay first."

"Wait, I paid you though."

"Nuh uh, you didn't."

"No, I did, I remember clearly, you were at the reception table-"

"No, I wasn't. I came out of the storage room and saw you on a chair. I didn't see you before."

She forced a smile, revealing a set of pearly white teeth.

"What kind of bullshi- oh, I'm sorry. I shall pay you right now, how much is it?"

After a short transaction of money, flabbergasted Ken got inside one of the cubicles and sat on the chair.

Something was awry wrong. He clearly remembered paying the receptionist girl before.

Hell, even his money was reduced. This is a definite proof that he had paid her.

Unfortunately, because he already paid her once, he was already on short of money.

He spent his remaining yen to rent a cubicle for 6 hours.

So now, he officially had 5 hours and 58 minutes until he became homeless and broke.

He would like to sleep and recharge during this period but he just couldn't. His instincts screamed red signals.

Knock knock

Someone knocked on the door to his cubicle.

"Sir, sorry to bother you but it's me." The receptionist girl called out.

"I brought some snacks and water."

Water, Ken just realized he was thirsty so bad.

He unlocked the door and saw the receptionist girl, except she was wearing a mask, just like how she was at the reception table a dozen minutes ago.

She handed him a glass of water along with some nuts and left.

Ken, although thirsty, took the time to lock the door to his cubicle.

Something ain't right.

He picked up the glass of water and booted up the pc. It was an internet cafe after all.

He planned to read some cultured manga to calm his nerves when he recalled his dream earlier.

To people reading the manga, Gojo's death was unsatisfying and sudden.

On the other side, characters in the manga felt only despair and anguish when he died.

Ken was technically in the manga right now. He can't afford to lose Gojo at all.

It is no longer [FRAUDJO DIED, HARHARHAR] or [HE WILL COME BACK] since it concerns his life now.

He can't gamble on Gojo's return. He would have to make a situation where they don't have to gamble.

He was not Hakari after all.

He took a sip of the water as he skimmed through some risque 'manga' covers.

'Huh?'

He spat out the water instantly.

'Huh?'

It could be that Japan's water just tastes different but it felt too unnatural.

'Was something put in this drink?'

His foreboding feeling got worse.

And it reached an all time high when the door to his cubicle was hit.

Something was furiously knocking on the door, causing his heart to beat faster under anxiety and stress.

The knocking got fiercer and fiercer until it reached a level where someone could believe a killer was hunting down whoever was outside the door.

"HELP ME, HELP-"

A sudden cry was heard but was snuffed out as sudden as it appeared.

The knocking ceased.

And a strange moaning sound could be heard.

Ken's eyes widened. This sound could only possibly belong to a curse.

A wooden door was keeping a curse away from him.

He remained silent because he was frozen out of fear.

Because he didn't respond to the earlier sound, the curse deemed he was asleep.

The door knob of the cubicle door slowly started to spin.