The Japanese reporter and child acrobat of... unknown origins made their way back towards the front desk. It was eerily quiet and empty now, making the macabre works of "art" around them even more frightening. Without realizing it, the two ended up walking a step or two closer to each other than they had before. To their relief, there were others in the entrance hall. There was the girl in the orange dress who Ijemaru had interviewed earlier, laid curled up on the floor next to a potted plant, the young man he'd interviewed earlier examining the floor painting "___ Of The Deep", and another girl standing near a painting that... looked almost like it were coughing.<br/><br/>Ijemaru shook his head, trying to disperse the thoughts of living paintings from his mind. He went over to the desk and even rang the little bell a few times, but no one came. It seemed as if it was just himself, Frahlah, and these other three. Were they really the only ones left? What had happened to everyone else?<br/><br/>"Do you know what's going on here?" The blonde boy asked him quietly.<br/><br/>"I don't have a clue," Ijemaru groaned, running a hand over his face. "But I don't like it at all."