The eerie age arrived in silence. Humanity's fear and madness began to warp reality, turning into living tales of strange rules:
The late-night bus, platform 13, always saves one extra "seat" just for you...
An old camera: what it captures isn't a photograph, but the deepest nightmare in your heart...
Rule three in the new employee handbook: absolutely do not work overtime.
Countless cities have become haunted zones. Order is collapsing, and humanity searches for the rules of survival amid screams.
As for me, codename "Judge," I belong to an organization that walks in the shadows: the Bureau of Human Affairs.
My job is simple: record them, analyze them, and then tear them apart.
While others struggle to survive in these strange tales, I wield the Pen of Rules, turning taboos into files that can be suppressed. I am a walking chronicler of calamities, a rule hunter who deals with anything that refuses to obey.
Until today, when my unhurried boss, who always carries a thermos of goji berries, opened the archive room door and gently placed a top-secret file with a blood-red cover before me.
I belong to the Bureau of Human Affairs, walking on the brink of losing control as I record and suppress these living rules.
Until today, when my boss, who always carries a teacup, handed me a top-secret file:
"New mission. The target is 'Homelander'..."
"Remember, this time, losing control is allowed."
