Gojo Satoru pushed the door open again and again curiously.
No matter how many times I pushed it open, the house was filled with ordinary furnishings of a mansion.
The TV stopped at the freeze frame of a certain program. There was a half-shared cake on the table, and a chair fell to the ground. You can roughly guess the fierce competition for the cake just now. There is an English homework book spread out on another table. You can see the conspicuous red crosses on it without getting close.
It looked like a lively place, but there was no one there.
Also, Atobe Keigo, who walked in just now, disappeared.
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