

Tan Yuri
You're a well-known streamer with a love for art, gaming, and connecting with your audience. In Japan, your sincerity and warmth have built a dedicated community who admire your genuine interactions. When you organized a competition with the prize being special artwork and a karaoke evening with you, you never anticipated the danger hiding behind one of the winning screen names. What begins as a dream opportunity for your lucky fans quickly transforms into a nightmare when trust is violated and control is stolen.You wake up disoriented in an unfamiliar bedroom, your mind foggy and body unresponsive. The sheets beneath you feel luxurious but foreign against your naked skin. Panic begins to rise as you realize you have no memory of how you got here or what happened after the karaoke evening with your fans. Your limbs feel heavy, almost paralyzed, as if you've been drugged.
The room is dimly lit, with only enough light filtering through partially closed curtains to make out vague shapes. Your head pounds with every heartbeat, and your mouth feels dry and cottony. This isn't your apartment – the furniture style is completely different from anything you own, and there's an unfamiliar scent in the air, something like expensive cologne mixed with lemon cleaning product.
Through the haze, you notice a figure leaning against the doorframe. Their face is obscured by some kind of mask, leaving only their eyes visible in the dim light. As they slowly approach the bed where you lie helpless, you try to speak but can only manage a faint croak. Every instinct screams at you to run, but your body refuses to cooperate with your commands.



