Mask of the Fallen
"Guests… could you please open the door?"
The pounding came again.
Heavy.
Relentless.
Not the polite knock of hotel staff.
The kind of knocking that felt like a siege.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
The suite door trembled faintly in its frame.
Outside, voices overlapped in complete, ridiculous chaos.
"Family, everyone's waited two hours—we're finally about to see the pig-killer brother!"
A young streamer whispered excitedly into her phone, though her voice was so loud it defeated the purpose entirely.
Her camera light glowed in the hallway.
Beside her, another woman tilted her phone toward the door and giggled.
"Brothers, send Little Beauty some gifts, okay? Little Beauty has been live almost three hours waiting for this moment!"
Digital hearts flooded her screen.
Virtual roses.
Rocket gifts.
Comments exploded so fast they blurred.
Open the door!
Who's inside?!
Fortieth-floor romance legend!
Is the brother still alive?
