Yuzuha took a slow step forward, her sharp eyes scanning the massive space before her. An apartment? The word felt misplaced—this was nothing short of a private sanctuary. The vaulted ceilings, the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city, the pristine marble flooring… it all screamed wealth. And yet, only 300,000 yen per month?
Her fingers trailed along the smooth edge of a countertop in the open-concept kitchen. Everything looked untouched, as if no one had ever lived here before. The air smelled of fresh polish, and the silence was thick, almost unnatural.
"This doesn't feel like a home."
Something about it unsettled her. The space was too perfect, too curated—like a carefully constructed stage set.
"Yes, madam, it is technically an apartment," a smooth voice interrupted her thoughts.
She turned to face the landlord, an ordinary-looking man with a rehearsed smile. There was something off about him too, though she couldn't pinpoint what.
"Although,"he continued, "since it lacks multiple floors like a traditional apartment, calling it a duplex home wouldn't be wrong."
Yuzuha's gaze sharpened. "I see... but isn't it strange that this place is being rented for so little?"
The landlord's lips curled into an easy smile. "The location, of course. People want to be closer to the city's energy, but this place is a bit too… private for their tastes. But for you, a model with many admirers, privacy is a gift, wouldn't you say?"
The way he emphasized many admirers made something cold trickle down her spine.
Still, she forced a smile. "I need to move in immediately. Can I pay you now?"
The landlord didn't even check his phone after she transferred the money.
"What kind of landlord trusts a tenant so easily?"
Something was wrong. She knew it. But she accepted the key, thanked him, and left.
As soon as she was out of sight, the landlord pulled out his phone and dialed a number.
"Hello, mister businessman,"he said eagerly. "I mean, I don't know your name, so I'll just call you that."
A cold voice responded, calm but laced with something ominous. "There's no need for you to know my name."
The landlord swallowed. "Fine… You told me that if I acted like a landlord and convinced the girl to rent the house, you'd pay me one million yen. Well, I did my part. Now, when do I get my money?"
A low chuckle. "So eager for your reward?"
The voice on the other end was unreadable, smooth as silk but carrying an undercurrent of danger.
"Fine. I'll send a car to pick you up. We'll discuss business over a drink."
The landlord's eyes gleamed with greed. "Yes! If you're offering me a partnership, I'm more than willing."
"Good," the voice replied. "Be ready in thirty minutes."
The call ended.
Meanwhile, in the depths of a dimly lit room, a man leaned back in his leather chair, his phone still in hand. The glow of the screen flickered against his icy blue eyes.
One of his subordinates smirked. "You know, this was an unregistered phone. I recorded the entire conversation, processed it through AI to mimic his voice, and now…" He tossed the device onto the table. "We erase all traces."
The man with the blue eyes nodded once. A subordinate picked up the phone and disappeared into the shadows.
The landlord, oblivious to the trap tightening around him, eagerly stepped into the sleek, black Bugatti that arrived at his doorstep.
It was only once the doors locked with a soft click that he noticed something strange—there was no driver.
A faint, chemical scent filled the cabin. His vision swam.
"What—"
Darkness swallowed him whole
When he came to, the landlord was sitting—no, restrained—to a chair in a cavernous, pitch-black room. The only source of light was the eerie glow of a screen. And standing in front of it… was him.
A long black coat. Gloves. A mask covering the lower half of his face.
And those eyes—piercing, ice-blue, inhuman.
"I am the businessman you spoke to," the man said, his voice smooth yet deathly cold. "But I am also someone else. Someone people whisper about in fear. Someone no one has ever truly seen… and lived to tell the tale."
The landlord trembled violently. "No… no way… You're—"
"Yes." The man stepped closer, his presence suffocating. "I am the Dark Shadow."
The landlord's breathing became ragged, frantic.
Dark Shadow tilted his head, watching him like one might watch a dying insect. "Do you know why you're here?"
The landlord's eyes darted around wildly. No exits. No allies. Just him and the darkness.
"Because I despise liars."
A metallic shnk echoed in the room. Something gleamed in his gloved hand.
"You deceived her not because you had to. Not because you were forced. But because you saw money and grabbed at it like a filthy rat."
The landlord's muffled screams filled the void as Dark Shadow loomed closer.
Back at the duplex, Yuzuha sat on the edge of her new bed, exhaustion pressing down on her. Why do I feel so restless?
The silence in the house was unnatural. As if it were holding its breath.
Unseen to her, behind perfectly hidden walls, tiny cameras captured her every move. Every breath. Every flicker of unease in her expression.
Far away, Dark Shadow stood before the massive screen, watching.
His fingers traced the image of her face on the glass.
"You look tired, Yuzuha," he murmured, his voice low, almost tender. "You need rest."
A smirk tugged at his lips.
"This home… was made just for you. Now, I can watch your every move. Every second."
His icy blue eyes glowed ominously in the darkness, reflecting the silent obsession that had only just begun.