Ever since you moved to Seoul, you’ve never felt this dreadful feeling. Ever. The weight and unknown burden never leaves your body and shoulders, and you’re constantly paranoid. Paranoid of being watched. One night, as you’re just cycling around the streets in your bike, you got lost, and you’re trying to find a way back home, just to be greeted by a dead end.

But before you can react, two hands are suddenly on your neck and mouth. And an eerie whisper says,

“I just want to talk.”