Hearing those words, Ethan's eyelid twitched violently.
The harsh accusation mixed with the piercing static in the phone, making everything feel unreal. It was as if he were trapped inside some grotesque nightmare, his entire head buzzing.
The dead man… was Ethan?
Was everything that had just happened nothing more than a hallucination before death?
No.
The wounds on his body still hurt.
His heart was still beating.
The one who died was definitely the intruder.
Then what the hell was going on?
Why had the body disappeared right before his eyes?
Why was the dead man identified as "Ethan"?
And why hadn't the police arrived yet?
Could it be…
As he replayed everything that had just happened in his mind, a ridiculous thought suddenly emerged.
It was as if he had entered a completely unfamiliar world.
And the corpse the police had found—the so-called body of "Ethan"—was actually the intruder who had disappeared.
But then…
Why had that man become him?
"If he is Ethan… then who am I?"
The situation was becoming increasingly bizarre.
Ethan's entire body tensed, his vigilance rising to its peak.
"That's the question we should be asking you."
The voice on the phone had completely lost its probing tone and now spoke coldly.
"We have already confirmed the victim's identity. According to our records, the 'robber' you claim to have killed in 'self-defense' is actually the homeowner—Ethan."
"From the moment surveillance cameras recorded Ethan entering the stairwell to the time you made that emergency call, less than ten minutes had passed."
"In other words… unless you were already hiding inside Ethan's apartment and killed him the moment he returned home."
A chill crept through Ethan's chest.
So the police really had mistaken the corpse for him.
But…
They had contacted the building management.
They had checked the surveillance footage.
They had access to internal identity databases.
How could they possibly misidentify someone's identity?
An intense sense of unease spread through Ethan's mind. His face darkened.
"Then why would I call the police?"
The moment he said it, the line fell silent.
No one could ignore such an obvious contradiction.
Why would a murderer call the police himself?
Ethan didn't want to say anything more.
Those officers had no idea what kind of situation he was in.
And compared to them, the number of questions in his own mind was far greater.
But the voice on the phone soon spoke again.
"That's because you knew that if someone else called the police, it would expose you."
"But if you contacted us yourself, it would confuse the situation."
"And as it turns out, you succeeded. At first, we did treat this as a case of self-defense."
What nonsense?
Ethan frowned.
What "someone else"?
There was no one else here.
But the voice continued.
"Ethan's neighbors—a married couple—clearly heard intense fighting. They immediately reported the incident."
"Perhaps you anticipated this… or perhaps you heard them already."
"So, in order to confuse us, you called the police yourself."
"What…?"
Ethan froze.
His gaze slowly drifted toward the door across the hallway.
Neighbors…?
"You used Ethan's phone to report the crime and fabricated the story of a home invasion. Your story matched perfectly with what Ethan's neighbors reported, which is why we initially believed you."
After a brief pause, the officer's voice suddenly became harsh.
"The phone's location shows Ethan's phone has been inside the building the entire time!"
"And surveillance footage shows no one leaving the first floor."
"So… you are definitely still inside the building."
"…The building is already surrounded."
"We hope you won't resist arrest."
Ethan's brow tightened.
The purpose of this phone call was obvious—it was meant to delay the suspect while officers prepared to capture him.
Perhaps the officer also believed Ethan was stalling for time.
But none of that mattered anymore.
Because something far more terrifying was happening.
Ethan was absolutely certain of one thing.
He had always been the only resident in this building.
"Click—"
As if responding to the doubt in his mind, a sudden sound came from the apartment across the hallway.
The sound of a metal lock being opened.
Ethan stared straight at the door.
At some point, the reddish-brown security door had been pushed open slightly.
A narrow crack appeared between the door and the frame.
Behind the door was pure darkness.
Yet it felt as though something was hiding within that darkness.
A deep sense of dread rose in Ethan's chest.
His eyes instinctively moved downward.
The numbers on his phone screen flickered again.
8:05 PM.
Five minutes had passed since he stepped outside his apartment.
The blood-red sentence flashed through his mind once more.
"Do not leave your residence for more than five minutes."
Something was changing.
"Creeeak—"
The long dragging sound echoed slowly.
It felt like a dull blade scraping across Ethan's heart.
The gap in the opposite door was widening visibly.
The darkness behind it grew thicker and thicker.
Ethan stared at the scene.
Neighbors…?
For years, he had never had neighbors.
Was that a person?
Or something else?
Five minutes…
Was that the time limit before whatever was behind that door could come out?
He clearly remembered the time when he left his apartment.
It had been exactly eight o'clock.
If the warning was real—
then he still had a few seconds left.
Perhaps ten seconds.
Ethan's heart pounded wildly as his eyes scanned the corridor.
What should he do now?
Return to the apartment and wait for rescue?
But after everything that had happened tonight, Ethan understood something clearly.
Rescue would never come.
He would simply be trapped in that apartment until death.
Escape down the stairwell?
From the twenty-first floor, it wouldn't be difficult for him. His physical condition was good enough to reach the first floor quickly.
But outside this building…
was it still the same world he once lived in?
In that world, Ethan had already died.
Perhaps to them, he was someone who didn't even exist anymore.
But if the message—
"Do not leave your residence for more than five minutes"
was truly a warning…
Then the very idea of escaping this building would already be violating that rule.
In that moment of hesitation, Ethan suddenly saw the crack in the opposite door widen to half the height of a person.
Within the thick darkness, something seemed to appear.
Something was stretching out from inside.
The next moment—
"Click."
Another faint sound came from far away.
It sounded like a distant door quietly opening somewhere else.
The sound seemed to come from downstairs.
At that moment Ethan noticed something entering his field of vision.
He suddenly looked up.
A thin hand had appeared on the door across the hallway.
The hand was deathly pale, completely lifeless.
It gripped the edge of the door quietly, its knuckles sharply protruding. Purple-red veins spread across the back of the hand like withered branches.
The strangest thing was that although the bones were clearly visible, the hand was incredibly small—
like the hand of a newborn infant.
And it was gripping the door at the height of an adult's thigh.
It was that hand slowly pushing the door open.
In that instant, half of Ethan's scalp went numb.
"Bzzz—"
The hallway lights flickered suddenly.
Then went out completely.
Darkness swallowed everything.
Only the faint light inside the elevator continued to flicker.
The dim light cast unstable shadows everywhere.
Ethan stood frozen in the thick darkness.
The door across the hallway had now opened completely.
A very short figure stood behind it in the deepest part of the darkness.
Its appearance was impossible to see.
Only a vague silhouette remained.
At the same time—
"Tap… tap…"
Soft footsteps echoed in the corridor.
Something downstairs was walking up the stairs.
Ethan's heart suddenly tightened.
He stepped backward, instinctively trying to return to his apartment.
"BANG!"
His back slammed into something cold and solid.
At that moment a terrifying realization rose from the depths of his mind.
He clearly remembered—
he had never closed the door behind him.
He reached back, feeling for the handle.
Then he froze.
Where the doorknob should have been…
there was only an icy wall.
The door—
had disappeared.