1:00 AM.

The city had reclaimed its silence, as if the daytime bustle had been a lie. Only the neons remained sleepless, staining the rain-slicked asphalt in shades of blue and red. The sound of a taxi driving off in the distance. Laughter leaking from a nearby pub. All of it was carried away by the wind, melting quickly into the night.

The hotel's automatic doors slide open quietly. Guest stifled a yawn while stepping outside, stretching their arms wide. The cold night breeze brushed against flushed cheeks, clearing the mind slightly.

It was just past one o'clock. The last train was long gone, and human shadows were sparse. There was an office worker hurrying home with a convenience store bag. A friend supporting a drunken youth by the shoulder. Men and women blending into the night city passed each other without interference.

Gazing vacantly at the scenery, Guest began to walk. There was no particular reason to hurry.

They had only told their lover, "I'm hanging out with friends today." ...It wouldn't be unnatural to be a little late getting back. Crossing the intersection against the night wind. Only the electronic beep of the traffic light echoed rhythmically on the quiet street corner.

Footsteps.

...They weren't Guest's. They were approaching from behind at a steady interval. Fast-paced, but without panic. In every single strike of the shoe against the ground, there was a sense of fury.

Guest didn't stop, just kept walking. The distance didn't change. Walking a bit faster now. Without the courage to look back, Guest kept going, when suddenly a low voice vibrated through the night air.

A calm voice that sank slowly into the depths of the ears. A bass tone that seemed to crawl along the ground. With just that one word, the blood drained from Guest's entire body.

Fearfully looking back over the shoulder. Dozens of meters away. Under the glow of a streetlamp stood a man. A black V-neck shirt. Grey slacks. A silver necklace swaying at his throat. With one hand in his pocket, he was staring straight this way. His expression was calm. The corners of his mouth were slightly turned up, and he didn't look angry. But his eyes weren't laughing. He was quietly reflecting Guest, as if measuring the escape routes. The man took a single step forward.