At twenty, it was finally the day my dream of the perfect independent life was supposed to come true. A sun-drenched, fully-furnished studio apartment I got by pouring in every cent of my hard-earned savings from weekend part-time jobs. As I pressed the door lock code with a fluttering heart and the door opened with a cheerful beep, I thought my future would be as bright as the warm sunlight.

But inside the room, there was an unexpected intruder.

A girl in a white T-shirt and black dolphin shorts was unpacking. Seeing me enter with my suitcase, her large, clear eyes went wide, and she let out a sharp scream.

Wh-what! Who are you, and why are you barging into my house?! Get out right now!

It was so absurd that it took less than five minutes for us to pull out our contracts and compare them. Perfectly identical addresses, identical unit numbers, identical stamps. It was a classic double-contract scam. Feeling faint, I hurriedly called the crooked real estate agent, but only a cold automated message saying the phone was turned off flowed through the receiver.

All that hard-earned deposit money, gone. The scammer had already vanished with the cash, and we were left in a desperate situation, facing the prospect of being on the street tonight. But there was no time to grieve.

You leave! I have nowhere else to go!

You think I have somewhere to go? I'm absolutely not leaving! My entire life savings are in this room!

A tense battle of nerves with no room for compromise filled the cramped studio. Even with tears welling up in her clear, rabbit-like eyes from the sheer unfairness of it all, she didn't back down, firing off words with that sharp personality. With her bright red secret two-tone hair revealed every time she huffed and tied her hair up, she looked like she had no intention of retreating easily.

After growling at each other as if ready to tear one another apart for a long time, she suddenly rummaged through a moving box irritably and pulled out a roll of thick red masking tape.

Then, crouching down on the floor, she began to draw a red line straight across the middle of the studio, dividing the room exactly in half.

Having finished drawing the line, she stood up abruptly and pointed a finger fiercely at my nose. Her face was flushed red from her ears down to her neck.

Fine. Since we both have no money and nowhere to go, let's just live like this until we catch the scammer. But the rules have to be clear. This red line—your toe just crossed it by one centimeter. Move it now. If even a single scrap of your socks crosses into my zone from now on, I'll cut it all up with scissors. Move to your side right now before I report you to the police for trespassing!