Chapter 2
Jiro felt her breath catch as she stepped across the threshold of the door, entering into what felt like a completely different world. The cold air vanished instantly, replaced by a thick, almost suffocating warmth, the atmosphere heavy with the scent of something oddly familiar but laced with a faint, intoxicating sweetness.
“Denki?” she whispered shakily into the phone, hoping for some sense of reassurance. “Denki, I... I think I’ve gone into another ring.”
She glanced around, her heartbeat racing as she took in her surroundings. The room was massive—too massive, too grand for anything she had ever known. It was like stepping into a palace of excess. The walls shimmered with dark, opulent colors, gold filigree traced across every surface, the ceiling stretching up impossibly high into shadows she couldn’t reach. But it was the table that caught her eye—no, the tables. There were many of them, stretching endlessly like an endless banquet hall, each laden with more food than Jiro had ever seen in her life. Dishes stacked high with every possible delicacy—exotic fruits, finely prepared meats, cakes so extravagant they looked like works of art. The air was thick with the heady, sugary fragrance of the feast, each bite promising comfort, indulgence, nostalgia.
"Jiro?" Denki’s voice came through faintly, almost drowned by the sounds around her. "What’s going on? What do you see? Where are you?"
“I... I’m in some kind of banquet hall,” she said, her voice tight as she tried to process the overwhelming scene. “It’s like... it's like everything is designed to pull me in. But... I don’t know if it’s real. It feels like it’s forcing me to eat. The smells are so... so familiar.”
She stared at the platters of food, but it wasn’t just the food itself—it was her. The memories that were starting to rush back, unbidden. Sitting at a table at home with her family. Her mom’s cooking—her dad’s laughter. Her past. They were all mixed up with the smells of perfume, tobacco, alcohol, and rich, indulgent food.
"Denki... I’m feeling like I need to eat. Like I can’t stop thinking about it. I don’t—"
“Jiro, don’t!” Denki interrupted, his voice rising in alarm. “Don’t give in to it! It’s trying to tempt you. Whatever’s in there is meant to break you down. Do you remember what was in the other place?”
Jiro’s mind was clouded. The air was so thick with the scent of every temptation, pulling at her senses, overwhelming her. She reached out, her fingers brushing against a delicate pastry on the table, and for a moment, she hesitated. Her hands shook.
“What if it’s not... I mean, this feels so real, Denki. These smells—these memories. It’s like it’s calling to me.”
Denki’s voice was frantic, but he held firm. “Jiro, you have to resist. You can’t fall into this. Remember what we talked about? The Seven Rings? This is the second one—Gluttony. The whole point is to break you down, to make you lose yourself in indulgence. You can’t let it happen.”
But the food was so tempting. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until now, and suddenly, the need to eat became all-consuming. Each bite seemed to call her name, an almost physical pull in her gut. She could almost taste the sweetness of the cake, feel the smooth richness of the chocolate melting on her tongue. It was just one bite—just one, and then she could stop. But that was the trick, wasn’t it? One bite, then another. And another.
Her hand trembled as it hovered over the food. She could almost hear the voice of temptation whispering in her ear, the promise of relief from the confusion and fear, the promise of comfort in a world that was so foreign, so hostile. She just needed one moment of peace.
“Denki...” she whispered, as if the sound of his name was a tether to reality. “What should I do? I... I don’t know how to stop it.”
“You have to stay focused, Jiro,” Denki urged, his voice desperate now. “You’re stronger than this. Don’t let it control you. Focus on something else. Anything else. What do you see around you? What can you focus on?”
Her mind swam in the overwhelming haze of memories and desire. She looked around, and that’s when she saw her.
There, at the head of the long table, sat a figure. She was unmistakable—a woman with long, dark hair, dressed in an extravagant gown, her face impossibly beautiful. Her eyes were dark and gleaming with hunger, and she watched Jiro with a knowing smile, as if she knew exactly what Jiro was thinking, what she was feeling.
“Gluttony…” Jiro whispered, finally understanding. The woman’s lips curved upward, and she rose slowly, gracefully from her seat. The air seemed to thicken, and the tension between them crackled like static.
"You are in my domain now," the woman said, her voice smooth as silk, as sweet as the food around them. "Tell me, little one—how long do you think you can resist before you give in to the pleasure of indulgence?"
The woman’s voice was soft, almost comforting, but Jiro felt an instinctual warning rise within her. This was no kindness. It was manipulation. It was a trap.
“Denki,” Jiro gasped, panic rising in her throat. “She’s... she’s here. She’s watching me.”
“Jiro!” Denki’s voice snapped through her fog, his tone sharp with urgency. “Get away from her. Do not engage! She’ll keep you here forever if you let her. You need to get out of there. Find the way forward.”
But how? How could she escape this? The woman in front of her grinned, her lips curving into a dangerous smile as she began to walk toward Jiro, the air around them thick with desire.
Jiro took a step back, fighting against the pull of the woman’s gaze. She could feel the hunger in the air—the promise of satisfaction just within reach. She wasn’t hungry—no, she wasn’t—but the way the food seemed to whisper her name, the way everything was so perfect, so right, was overwhelming.
“I’m not like the others,” the woman purred, stopping mere inches from Jiro. “You don’t have to fight it, you know. You could enjoy this. There’s no harm in giving in, little one. You deserve it. Everyone does.”
“No,” Jiro gasped, taking another step back. “I... I can’t...”
She could hear Denki, still on the line, shouting her name, but it was drowned out by the woman’s words, by the overwhelming urge to stop fighting, to give in. It would be so easy. But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t.
Suddenly, she took a deep breath, remembering Denki’s words—focus. She forced herself to look past the food, past the woman, and instead focused on her phone. Denki was still there, for her.
With a shaky breath, she whispered, “I’m going to get out of here, Denki. I swear. I won’t give in.”
Her legs were shaky, but she pushed forward, breaking through the oppressive atmosphere, focusing solely on the sound of Denki’s voice, even as the ruler’s laughter echoed in the distance.
"Good. Keep going. You’re almost there, Jiro. Stay strong."
As Jiro moved forward, she saw another door at the far end of the room, a dark silhouette against the grandeur of the banquet hall. She had to make it there. She had to keep going, no matter what.
And as she approached the door, the echoes of Gluttony’s laugh faded, but the hunger remained, gnawing at the edges of her thoughts.
The second ring was only the beginning. But Jiro had learned something important—she wasn’t going to let herself fall. Not again.
"I’m almost there...” she whispered, but the words felt hollow as the shadows around her seemed to stretch and shift, making her doubt her own steps.
Just as she reached for the door handle, a voice, soft and almost velvety, echoed from behind her.
“Are you sure you want to leave so soon?” the voice cooed. “You haven’t even tried the delicacies I’ve set out for you. Don’t you want to taste just a little bit?”
Jiro froze, her hand hovering inches from the door. Slowly, she turned, her pulse racing with dread. Standing behind her was the figure of the ruler, the tall, elegant woman draped in rich, flowing fabrics. The woman’s skin glistened, almost too perfect, like porcelain, and her eyes gleamed with an unsettling satisfaction. But it wasn’t just the woman—it was the food around her, her presence, that was so utterly consuming. Everything about her screamed indulgence, pleasure, and... well... gluttony.
The woman’s smile widened, and Jiro’s stomach churned. “You’re going to leave without even seeing what I have prepared for you? Oh, how ungrateful.”
Jiro’s breath hitched. She hadn’t noticed before, but now that she looked closer, she could see how the woman’s hands were delicately lifting dishes from the table, placing them with an exaggerated flourish, as though everything here existed solely for Jiro’s consumption.
The ruler leaned in, her voice dropping into a soft whisper. “Try the sweet wine, my dear. It’s a special kind, made just for someone like you... Someone who’s afraid to taste it.”
Jiro flinched, feeling a wave of panic wash over her. The thought of even taking one bite, of even letting the wine touch her lips, seemed like a betrayal. She shook her head, backing away.
“Stop...” she whispered, almost pleading. “I don’t want this.”
But the woman only laughed, her voice smooth like silk. “It’s not about what you want anymore, little one. It’s about what you need.” She flicked a hand towards one of the extravagant cakes on the table, its layers shimmering like jewels. “Don’t you want a taste of perfection?”
Jiro’s mind spun, the pressure of temptation mounting. She could feel the pull of it, the desire for just a little satisfaction in this world that had made no sense since she’d arrived. But Denki’s voice pierced through the fog, sharp and urgent.
“Jiro! Don’t listen to her! Don’t give in!” Denki’s voice crackled through the phone, desperate. “You’re stronger than this!”
Jiro’s eyes widened, her heart pounding in her chest. She had to resist. She had to get out. With a final, panicked glance at the woman, she yanked open the door and sprinted through it, not looking back.
But the ruler’s laughter rang in her ears, the sound cloying and heavy, as though it was following her. Her footsteps echoed in the silence as she rushed down the dark hallway, each step growing more frantic.
Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, she saw something that made her freeze.
The woman was walking beside her now, her expression no longer one of playful charm but of quiet intensity. Jiro’s chest tightened in fear as the woman’s calm, graceful stride echoed in the eerie silence.
“Leave me alone,” Jiro whispered, backing away.
But her face painted in delicate yet unsettling calm, smiled softly. “I’m not trying to hurt you, my dear. I’m just... showing you the way. It’s really simple, you see. All you have to do is stop running.” She gestured to the plates of food, the same ones from before. “All you have to do is take a bite. One bite, and you can rest. You can have everything you’ve ever wanted. No more fear. No more struggle.”
Jiro’s hands shook, her mind threatening to crumble beneath the weight of the temptation. She swallowed hard, trying to summon any strength she had left.
“I won’t...” she said, though her voice wavered. “I won’t give in.”
Denki’s voice rang in her ears, like a beacon. “Jiro, you can do this! Don’t listen to her! You’re not alone!”
But the woman only smiled, stepping closer. “I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help. Don’t you see? Gluttony is here to help you... to give you everything you’ve been longing for. It’s so easy to accept.”
Jiro’s pulse raced. She wanted to turn and run again, but something about the woman’s presence made it hard to break eye contact, hard to move. Her gaze felt like it was pulling her in, like a gravitational force, a subtle, seductive pressure that made her legs feel like lead.
Suddenly, the room seemed to shift. The delicate smile on her face faltered as Jiro’s attention snapped back to the door. Without thinking, Jiro spun on her heel, bolting forward again. The door was so close. She couldn’t stop now.
But as she reached for the handle, she heard it—the sound of something heavy, something that shouldn’t have been possible in the opulent silence of this place.
Her head, with its porcelain, perfect features, fell—clean off, rolling from her neck, her body still standing, her expression frozen in that calm, almost too perfect smile. The body took a slow, deliberate step forward, like it hadn’t even noticed its own decapitation, and then another, and another.
The body began to run towards her, slow but relentless, its legs moving with terrifying purpose. The sight of the headless body, its eyes still gleaming with that unnatural calm, made Jiro’s blood run cold.
“No!” Jiro gasped, stumbling back as the body crept closer, its arms outstretched, as though trying to pull her into its endless indulgence.
She could hear Denki’s voice again, frantic and fierce, shouting her name. “Jiro! Run! Run!”
Jiro turned on her heel, sprinting for the door as the headless body’s steps grew closer and closer, the sound of its feet growing louder with every passing second.
Her legs burned, her breath ragged, but she couldn’t stop. She had to get away. She had to get through that door.
With one last, desperate lunge, Jiro threw herself toward the door and yanked it open. She didn’t dare look back.
As she stumbled through, the door slammed shut behind her with a force that made the walls of the hall tremble.
The chase, for now, was over.
But the weight of Gluttony lingered in the air, and Jiro knew this was only the beginning.