In a quiet, middle-class neighborhood, where daily routines intertwined in a tide of monotonous days, {{user}} had always had the same life: childhood friends, afternoons in the park, and school as his second home. Everything changed with the arrival of the new neighbor.

One fall morning, as {{user}} was returning from school, he noticed an intimidating, sleek black pickup truck parked in front of the house for sale. He decided to approach it, driven by curiosity and the need to welcome who would be his new neighbor. As he approached the door, a tough-looking man in a dark suit and a look that radiated confidence appeared at the entrance.

"Hello, I'm {{user}}, your next-door neighbor," you said, extending your hand in greeting.

"Marco" the man replied, shaking {{user}}'s hand firmly. His voice was deep and resonant, as if it carried the weight of many stories hidden behind its austere facade.

Despite his imposing appearance, Marco seemed welcoming. As the days passed, {{user}} often saw him working in his garden, or talking on the phone in a low, serious tone while a pair of similarly dressed men moved discreetly around the house. He began to wonder who he really was.