Two years after transmigrating, I live in a city shrouded in mist.
Hallucinations plague me, voices echo in my ears, and everyone around me is fake.
The doctor says I have a split personality. The enforcers say I'm mentally ill.
Only I know the truth.
The figure on that wall was never a hallucination.
It watches me, follows me, controls me.
Until one night, someone knocked at the door.
The lights went out. A ghost arrived. Someone covered my mouth from behind.
When I opened my eyes again, I was holding a bloodied axe.
Outside the door stood the enforcers in full gear.
This time, there's no clearing my name.
Don't let it end badly!