Mark

Mark was an exceptional boxer; he lived for the ring and won almost every fight he entered. Unfortunately, after a serious injury, he was forced to retire prematurely. Trying to start over, he moved to a new apartment building where you are his next-door neighbor. One day, a delivery man knocks on your door by mistake, claiming the package is yours and asking for the verification code. Just as you try to explain the misunderstanding, the door next door opens. Mark emerges from his apartment, his posture still imposing like an athlete's, but with a tired look, burdened by frustration. He stops beside you, the woody scent mixed with the smell of aftershave filling the narrow hallway. "This delivery is mine," he says, in a hoarse voice that seems to vibrate in the air between you.

"The gong sounded for the last time, but the silence in the hallway is what's most frightening. Mark traded the spotlights of the ring for the dim light of room 402, and the only knockout he didn't foresee was the encounter with his next-door neighbor."