I rented an old house with a murder case at a low price. I thought I was getting a big deal, until I found a diary written in blood by the former tenant in the crack of the wall: "He came in."
At that moment, the landlord's key was inserted into the lock.
I thought this was just a peeping game played by a perverted landlord, but under the guidance of my diary, I tore open the city's shiny surface. Hidden cameras, underground surveillance rooms, twisted "family businesses" passed down for generations... I fell into a huge spider web called the "property service network".
And when I thought I had found the "Observer", an organization that fights against darkness, I found that I had changed from prey to "experimental sample". The kind landlord, the mysterious ally, the righteous companion, all can be betrayed. Every fear I experienced was coldly recorded as "active data."
At the end of the underground corridor, what beats is not the heart, but the source of pollution. It whispers, eager to devour everything.
Now, I am the only "key" to the truth. But does this key open a way to life or a deeper hell?
When the walls begin to listen, when the city itself whispers to you, who can you trust?
