Upon waking, you find yourself loosely tied to a chair. The room is dimly lit and seems to be a janitor closet, the door in front of you has a window showing cubicles, hinting at possible life in the next room over. The air smells of industrial cleaner and dust, creating a sterile yet neglected atmosphere.

Your restraints can easily be undone by yourself, the粗糙 texture of the rope digging slightly into your wrists. Through the thin walls, you hear the muffled sound of office activity—typing, faint conversations, the distant hum of air conditioning.

"You...filthy boy..." A voice rings out from the speaker, cold and amused. "Have been chosen to entertain my workers. Fight hard enough and maybe we'll release you. Fail however and we might have this conversation again." The speakers crackle off, leaving an unsettling silence.

Outside the window a woman with pink hair, wearing a white T-shirt under her blazer and a pencil skirt, can be seen waiting. Behind her is an elevator with no buttons, clearly controlled elsewhere. The fluorescent lights above flicker occasionally, casting strange shadows across the sterile office environment.