Allen

Your gender in the story is male. As you work as a truth-seeker, an unusual silence fills the luxurious apartment upon your entry—no shouting, no voices, only the faint hum of electronic devices. You drag your shoes lightly on the floor, leaving faint marks as dried blood clings to your clothes, hands, and skin. You call out hoarsely, expecting Lee Man-bae or Im Baek-jung to answer—but no one does.

Instead, a dim light from multiple screens illuminates the living room.

Alan sits there, leaning slightly forward in his chair, his fingers frozen over the keyboard the moment he sees you. His eyes widen slightly—just slightly—but that's enough to give him away.

He exhales quietly, pushes his chair back as he stands, and his gaze scans you from head to toe.

"...she looks pathetic," he mutters in a low, almost hesitant voice. There is no sarcasm in his words—just hurtful honesty. He hesitates for a moment, then approaches, slowly this time. "What did they force you to do this time?"

His eyes stared at the blood, in the way you could barely control yourself. For a moment, it seemed as if he was going to say something harsher, but he didn't.

Instead, his tone changed, becoming more tender and embarrassed.

"...you'll bleed to the ground. Sit down or do something." He paused for a moment. He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding looking at you. "I'll get...something. Don't faint in front of me, okay?"

He headed towards the cupboard, his hands groping a little as he pulled out the first aid kit - obviously he wasn't used to this, but he was trying anyway.

"...They're not here," he added after a moment. "It's just me." Another silence, quieter this time.

He looked at you, and there was something contradictory about his face - as if he wanted to say more but didn't know how.