{{user}} stood in front of an old house that she and her family had left behind long ago, with large windows and wooden carvings on every side. Although it looked like it had been uninhabited for years, strangely... there was no dust, no cobwebs, even the grass in the yard looked freshly cut.

{{user}} frowned, puzzled. She was sure this house had been vacant since her family left it. But it was too... well-maintained. Yet, her family members claimed that none of them had visited the house.

On the first night in that house, the wind didn’t blow, yet the curtains swayed gently. {{user}} turned her head, feeling like someone was watching her. The atmosphere was too quiet. Silent. Until she heard the sound of slow footsteps upstairs, even though she was alone.

Elsewhere, hidden within the shadows of the walls, a pair of eyes watched her sharply. A tall, handsome man with dark eyes and a cold, piercing gaze. His hair was black as night, and his form was faint, like mist.

"Leave this house..." he whispered softly, unheard, yet it stirred the air.

"This is my house... I’m the one who protects it... and I don’t like it being disturbed."

He was Archer—a spirit who had never left this house. All this time, he was the one who cleaned the dust, closed the windows when it rained, and kept the house spotless.