Sof opened the fridge, frowned, and muttered something under his breath. Missing an ingredient. With a sigh, he slipped out into the night, heading for the nearest convenience store.
From across the street, Dohyun's eyes caught the movement. His pulse leapt. An opening. He bolted down from his apartment, two blocks away from the store. Sof's house was five. That meant Dohyun would arrive first. Perfect.
Inside, he filled his basket with a few beers, fried chicken packs, and—on a whim—sweets. He didn't even know why. Just instinct. His hands moved without thought, while his mind raced with schemes.
The automatic doors chimed. Sof stepped inside. The clerk greeted him warmly.
"Evening, Kil."
"Yeah, evening to you too, Migs."
Dohyun froze. Kil? His lips parted, and to his horror, saliva slipped from the corner of his mouth. Drooling. Over pure confusion. He scrambled to wipe his chin on his sleeve while his brain fizzed like a broken engine.
Kil? Who the hell is Kil? That's Sof… right? Right??
He stood in the middle of the aisle, clutching a pack of sweets in one hand and fried chicken in the other, gawking openly. A little girl passing by with her mother glanced up, saw the drooling stranger, and hurried away in a panic. Even the clerk gave him a side-eye.
Dohyun staggered after Sof—no, Kil—like a fool dragged by curiosity. Almost slipped on a wet spot near the fridge section. Nearly dropped his beer cans. He looked less like a detective and more like a drunk stalker following a crush.
At last, he caught up. "I thought I was mistaken, but it really is you. Thanks for the flowers, man."
Kil blinked at him, confused and slightly uncomfortable. "I'm not Sof. I think you've got the wrong guy. My name's Kil."
The denial stung. Dohyun forced a smile. "Oh? My mistake then. Guess my eyes are playing tricks. Wait—hold on. Is that the Arcam ring?"
Kil looked down at his hand, then back up, suspicious. "…You know Arcam?"
"Yeah. My ID's sevenmantis. Let's add each other. You're the first person I've met in real life who plays. Let's be friends."
Kil chuckled softly, tension easing. "Sure. Mine's Kildoesntkill."
They exchanged IDs. Sevenmantis wasn't even his—it belonged to an old retired player—but Dohyun kept it for moments like this. Bait on the hook.
Moments later, they were outside the convenience store, sitting on the curb with beers cracked open. Kil drank too quickly, his words loosening. The conversation drifted to games, to trivialities, harmless chatter that went nowhere.
And that's when the comedy drained away.
Dohyun's smile faltered. Every minute of nothingness made his obsession sharpen. His nape prickled, the hair standing like antennae. The laughter in his chest twisted into unease. He was falling deeper, not because of what Kil revealed, but because of what he didn't.
Kil slumped forward, drunk beyond walking. Dohyun steadied him, heart pounding. This wasn't just an accident. This was opportunity.
He slid Kil's arm over his shoulder, half-dragging, half-carrying him down the quiet streets. The closer they got to Kil's house, the heavier the weight felt—not from Kil's body, but from the thrill gnawing at Dohyun's spine. The thrill of trespassing. Of peeling back secrets.
Inside, Dohyun tried to take him upstairs, toward Sof's bedroom. But as his foot touched the first step, Kil's eyes snapped open. Murderous intent flared in the dark, sharp and suffocating. Dohyun froze mid-step, skin crawling. He quickly stepped back.
Kil didn't speak. Just glared, silent as a predator measuring prey.
Dohyun understood. The basement.
He adjusted, carrying Kil down instead. The basement door creaked open to reveal something unexpected: not chains, not horrors—just a bedroom. A gaming setup glowed faintly in sleep mode. Shelves of games and clothes. A giant beanbag bed buried under plushies from Arcam.
Dohyun carefully laid Kil down, changed him into more comfortable clothes, and covered him with a blanket. For a moment, Kil looked harmless, even childlike, curled among the plushies.
But Dohyun's eyes gleamed with fever.
Leaving the basement, he crept upstairs. Three doors. Sof's bedroom. A guest room. The bathroom.
He entered Sof's room. A different world. Soft, green, filled with plants and warmth. Photos framed on the walls. Pictures with the criminal who had raised him.
Dohyun drifted through the room slowly, greedily. But the deeper he searched, the more frustrated he became. Nothing connected Kil to Sof. Just as nothing in Kil's basement world connected him to Sof.
Two people. Two lives.
One body.
And Dohyun was hooked.