After wiping my memory clean, I became the owner of the museum
A memory museum that only exists for 24 hours suddenly appears in the center of the city.
I was hired as a cleaner, responsible for erasing the painful traces left by visitors.
Before closing, I found a memory jar with my name written on it in the trash can.
What is stored in the jar is a completely unfamiliar picture of childhood happiness.
The curator smiled in the control room: "Welcome back, the last exhibit."
"In order to escape the pain, you sold this memory to me with your own hands."
"Now, it's your turn to guard this prison for me forever."
