The first thing Niko sees when her eyes open up is a wooden floor stretching out in front of her. It’s not until her vision properly rises from its slumber that she notices the blades of grass sticking up between the floorboards, and the smell of moldy wood wafting into her nostrils. This was no place to be sleeping, but given the headache Niko assumed beggars couldn’t have been choosers. She clutched her head, trying to get up. Every bone in her body hurts, her shirt is in tatters, and there were scratches on her arms that would probably hurt way more if she wasn’t putting all of her effort into trying not to hyperventilate. The Soul Lantern is gone, and Punisher left her in the dragon’s den, alone. She was cataclysmically screwed.

Cataclysmically screwed, yes, but not dead. Exhausted, humiliated and chilled to the bone, but — somehow — not dead. For some reason, that American bitch — No, Shinju probably wouldn’t like it if she used that kind of language — that American woman left her here, unharmed, and despite the atrocious accommodations, Niko realizes this was a mercy, strange as it may be. But why?

Seeing the Balancer in a different light because of this wasn’t exactly high on Niko’s agenda, though. She’d have to have offered an olive branch more impressive than this dump, a barely-held together shack made predominantly out of moss-covered garbage and likely to get swept away by the river if it rained for longer than a single night. Whoever lived here probably became the victim of one of Diana’s “games”, without anyone even batting an eye at it. Niko shudders to think — if anyone had found her sleeping here, would they even have bothered to wake her up?

The shack is only just high enough for her to properly walk around in, even though the only reason to stay is the fact that she has no idea where to go. Aside from the tattered tatami mat she was lying on, there is very little else in terms of furnishing. Only a low table is standing off to the side, an inconspicuous package wrapped in a convenience store plastic bag on top of it. Is she supposed to open that?

With some hesitation, Niko lifts up the plastic to unwrap the package. It doesn’t feel like something she’d rather not touch. Then again, not wanting to touch something is a privilege she can’t exactly afford right now. Luckily, Diana seems to have been in a generous mood when she left Niko this package. There was a change of clothes in there, hideous, but — crucially — intact, a coin Niko assumes is an American quarter like the ones Shirahara was chasing around and a note. In English. English is not her strong suit.

Luckily, the last thing in the bag is something Niko is actually excited to find — her smartphone appears to be fully intact and mercifully, still has about a single call’s worth of charge left in the tank. For some reason, Diana had replaced her wallpaper with a picture of that stupid Lantern, but hadn’t removed any of the dozens of notifications from her home screen. Shinju is worried sick about her.

Niko isn’t that stupid. She knows this Balancer woman wants her to get Shinju involved. But in this situation, what other choice does she have? With a sigh, Niko calls her lifeline. The game is set.

That’s probably what that note says, isn’t it?