That night, Xiang Nan and the others checked into a "hotel" in Kabukichō.
Calling it a hotel was generous —it was really just a shabby little inn.
There was zero sound‑proofing.
From the corridor and the rooms on the other side of the walls, strange and unsettling noises drifted in from ti to ti.
The place was obviously run‑down, yet business was booming; people ca and went in an endless stream.
The adults in the group didn't mind the "noise" at all.
Manman, however, was clearly a bit uneasy, so Xiang Nan found sothing to plug her ears.
"Pretty weird place," Pigeon remarked, staring at a sexy poster of a cross‑dressing perforr on the wall.
After a full day of intelligence‑gathering, Kabukichō still seed quiet—they had found no trace of other players.
Unless every intruder was hiding under so unspoken pact… but that seed highly unlikely.
After all, Gintama isn't a frightening world; it's a slice‑of‑life cody with hot‑blooded action.
In other words, there isn't much in this world that players need to fear.
Another oddity: up to now the system still hadn't issued any mission. They had never run into that before.
No mission ant no objective—did that an they could move about freely?
"Interesting."
…
"Not so hard, Elizabeth… slower, right there…"
More objectionable sounds drifted over from the next room.
"Beishi still isn't back?" Orban asked, barely suppressing his anger.
Their own walls were only thin wooden partitions of terrible quality.
"That guy's fallen in love with this world. Said he was collecting intel, but he's really just out sightseeing. I doubt he'll be back soon," Pigeon replied.
"At this rate," Xiang Nan said after a mont's thought, "we may be the only intruders who landed in this world."
"No way!" Orban and Pigeon blurted out.
"First, thanks to the First‑Kill Armband we're treated as a private squad—especially you two. You're already Extinction 8 players, so the system doesn't even allocate you normal slots. Dinsional battlefields are matched to player level and strength; because of you, we're mismatched with everyone below Extinction 7. We can't go through the normal queue to enter the sa battlefield as other players. Add squad size, relationships, abilities—all of that bypasses the system filter. So it's very possible the system spun up a separate instance just for us."
A private instance would also an mission content different from everyone else's.
"So we have to unlock the hidden storyline ourselves?" Pigeon raised an eyebrow.
But… the system hadn't prompted them at all.
"We're not sure yet; first we have to confirm there really are no other intruders. And if we can act freely, then this world's resources are ours for the taking—just like native‑world players. No dinsion‑coin cost, no forced random options. We'll wait for Beishi. If it's true, the First‑Kill Armband becos even more valuable."
Xiang Nan grinned.
They intruders would enjoy the sa rights and freedom as native players—practically perfect.
It was, after all, their first ti crossing over with the armband; they were still learning its full effects.
If Gintama's resources could be looted at will, they needed a deep understanding of the setting to know what was worth grabbing.
"I watched Gintama in my previous life too, but only scattered clips—not as thoroughly as Beishi," Xiang Nan recalled.
…
"Elizabeth, you can do it~"
More irritating noises ca from next door, disrupting their conversation again.
Orban, dressed like a samurai, finally lost patience.
He walked to the wall and lifted his foot, ready to kick.
With his strength, even a casual kick would blow through the thin board.
Wham!
Yet before his foot landed, a head suddenly burst through the wood, squeezing into their room.
Face‑to‑face, Orban and the intruder locked eyes.
"Sorry, pardon the intrusion…"
The man, head stuck in the wall in the most absurd posture, squinted at the cold‑faced Orban and apologized.
He was strikingly handso, fair‑skinned, with long hair—at first glance he could pass for a beautiful woman.
But his deep voice and Adam's apple marked him as a man.
"Elizabeth… pull out."
Under the group's gaze, he tried to stay calm, though a bead of sweat trickled down.
From the other room soone gripped his legs and yanked with brute force.
They watched his face turn liver‑purple; the hole was too small, and the scraping wood tore his skin open, blood streaming everywhere.
Red streaks sared the white wall—anyone might think a ghost had appeared.
At last the man popped free, but his partner's strength brought the flimsy partition crashing down, rging the two rooms into one.
Only then did Xiang Nan's group see the scene next door.
A white "duck" stood there, a towel over its shoulders—more like a person in a mascot suit than an alien.
A basin of hot water sat by the bed; the long‑haired man was stark naked, skin still foamy with soap.
It looked as if the pair had been scrubbing each other down—long‑hair the bather, the white duck the bath attendant.
"What now?"
The duck suddenly held up a sign—it couldn't talk, so it communicated that way.
"If the owner finds out, we'll have to pay for this."
Another sign in quick succession.
"No money?"
"Run for it?"
Whap‑whap. More signs flashed up.
The sheer absurdity stunned Orban; he couldn't process it.
That duck… was Elizabeth? He'd assud it was a woman.
And who books an inn room just to take a bath? What kind of kink is this?
Playing this kinky?
"Wig (Zura)?" Xiang Nan suddenly called uncertainly to the long‑haired man.
The bloodied face snapped toward him, deadly serious.
"It's not Wig (Zura)—it's Katsura!!!"
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