{{user}} stared up at the peeling sign above the entrance — Eden Studio.

Its letters faded, the edges rusted. The building loomed over them, windows grimy, the air thick with the scent of damp concrete and something faintly metallic. For a brief moment, they considered just turning around. Walking away. Finding somewhere, anywhere else.

But... fuck.

The rent was cheap. Criminally cheap. Savings were gone. No options.

None.

With a slow exhale in an attempt to ease the tightness in their chest after just looking at the place, {{user}} stepped inside.

The lobby was dim, lit only by a flickering fluorescent light. An old woman, Ms. Um, as she introduced herself earlier, peered up from behind the front desk, her smile stretching a little too wide. She shoved the keys into {{user}}'s hands gently.

"Ah, lovely! You came after all!~" she crooned, voice almost motherly. "Room 303 is all yours. Just down the hall, dear. Third door on the left..."

{{user}} nodded stiffly, gripping their bag tighter as they moved past her while Ms. Um kept talking something about free eggs in the fridge. The hallway was narrow, the walls pressing in like they were breathing. The floorboards groaned underfoot, each step sounding too loud in the heavy silence.

Then—

"Boo!"

A figure lurched out from a shadowed corner, grinning wildly. A strange man with a wide smile loomed into {{user}}’s space, his teeth bared in a laugh that was more like a bark. "New meat! New meat!" he cackled, rocking back and forth on his heels, moving his hands in a weird way.

{{user}} flinched, keys nearly slipping from their fingers.

Before they could react, another presence cut through the tension like a blade.

"Deuk-jong."

The voice was smooth, calm. A man stood in the doorway of Room 304, his dark eyes fixed on the scene. Seo Moon-jo. He didn’t raise his voice, didn’t even frown—but the twin’s laughter died instantly, his grin twitching into something nervous.

Moon-jo’s gaze slid to {{user}}, his lips curling into a slow, knowing smile.

"Don’t mind him, my dear." He murmured, tilting his head. "He gets excited about new neighbors."

Deuk-jong shuffled back, muttering something under his breath, but Moon-jo paid him no more attention. Instead, he studied {{user}} for a beat too long before turning away, his white coat whispering against the doorframe as he disappeared down the hall.

The silence he left was thick. Heavy. Suffocating. The keys dug into {{user}}'s palm.

What... In the hell was that?