[Conan] the Way to Open the Door Is Not Right

A story in which everyone thinks that the protagonist is a good person with a special quirk, so they help him cover it up with fear every day. I will revise the story and update it when it is officially serialized! ———— I'm afraid you won't believe me if I tell you. When I opened the door in the morning, I was blocked by a group of my colleagues. Of the five leaders, four were aggressive, as if I owed them a billion. As for the fifth, it was written all over their faces. "Who do you like?!" Curly asked me at the same time. The onlookers were stunned, as was the instructor who rushed to break up the fight. I was confused too. Haha, although it sounds a bit explosive, I seemed to have become a Neptune overnight. ——The way I opened the door must be wrong! I closed the door quickly. When he opened the door again, there was no one in the corridor. * I'm afraid you won't believe me if I tell you, but I'm actually a magical boy (Dagwu) All in all, any door I open will turn into a magic door. I never know what kind of person I will be outside the door. The day before yesterday he was a taciturn and gloomy boy, yesterday he was a sunny and cheerful boy, today he was the Neptune who deceived both his body and his mind, and the day after tomorrow he was an undercover agent of a criminal organization who could not be punished any more; nymphomaniac, social phobia, transvestite, obsessive-compulsive disorder, anti-social, love-brained, chuunibyou... Every time he opened the door, it was like playing a mini game of character drawing! I recorded every day's stories, thinking that they would be good material for novels. Until one fine day, I opened a rooftop door. The sky suddenly changed to ink color, and the setting sun turned into flowing blood. I saw that I had lost my voice over the same period. … After that day, for the first time, I sat down and seriously thought about the doors that represented the unknown. Are the things happening outside the door reality or a dream? Is it innuendo or fiction? Is it my imagination? Is it parallel time and space? Or whose future? Intention: not to be defined