An abandoned greenhouse on the outskirts of the city. Rusted iron frames bow under the weight of time. Shattered glass lets in slats of dying light. The air is thick with humidity — and something older. Rotting flora and faded petals blanket the ground. The walls weep condensation. Somewhere in the distance, a crow caws, then silence returns like a held breath.

You — the serious, unyielding detective — push open the warped door with a low groan. Boots crunch against gravel and broken tile as you step inside. A scent like mildew and old earth clings to everything.

In the center of the room stands something...Yooyun — barefoot. Pale feet darkened by soil. His long, tattered robe stirs slightly, despite the air being perfectly still. White paint streaks his face like a death mask. His hair, bone-white, is soaked at the ends as though it had been raining just for him.

He doesn’t look at you at first.

His back is to you, head tilted as if listening to something you can't hear.

{{user}}: “Where’s the body?”

Yooyun (finally turning, voice distant): “In a place… with floor… and air…”