They weren't family. They weren't enemies. But from tonight on, they lived on the same floor.
At exactly 4 p.m., the doorbell chimed.
The entrance slid open, and three students walked in—
all wearing deep navy uniforms, backpacks slung neatly over their shoulders,
footsteps firm and bold.
Elric stood in the corner of the lounge, returning a rulebook to the desk.
He looked up—just as the three of them stopped in unison, their eyes settling on him.
For a moment, the air paused.
None of them spoke.
**
The first two boys walked in step—same height, same face, same posture.
Sharp brows. Mirrored silence.
Twins.
Their eyes were clear, unreadable—
like predators were observing a prey before any action.
The last to enter was taller, yet fairer.
He didn't speak.
Just lifted his chin a fraction, giving Elric a look that was neither hostile nor warm—
just measuring.
Aunt Ann stepped out from the kitchen, smiling as if the tension didn't exist.
"Perfect timing. Your new classmate just arrived."
One of the twins spoke first. His voice was clear and direct.
"What's your name?"
"Elric."
"I'm Meng Yuanxiao," he replied.
The other twin followed quickly, his tone more casual but still composed.
"Meng Zhiheng."
Different pace. Same discipline.
The last boy simply said:
"Gao Mo. Floor 22."
No extra words.
Just small nods.
Then they each dropped their bags beside their assigned rooms.
Efficient. No wasted motion.
Apparently, this wasn't the first time they'd had to adapt.
**
Dinner was simple—hot corn soup, soft rolls, a few warm snacks.
Aunt Ann placed everything carefully on the table and said:
"No study sessions tonight. Just dinner.
Get to know each other."
No one replied.
But all four sat down.
The table was quiet.
Steam curled upward.
It wasn't tense—
just observant.
They didn't know each other.
No one reached out first.
But they all understood one thing:
From tonight on, this was shared space.
Not family.
Not friends.
Not enemies.
Just four people—
selected to live under Floor 22.
**
After the meal, everyone retreated to their rooms.
Elric unpacked his bag.
Placed the pocket watch in the drawer beside his desk.
Stood in the center of the room, listening.
The sound of running water.
Pages turning.
Lights clicking off.
Every sound on this floor echoed like the tick of a metronome—
spelling out one word: order.
He took a deep breath.
Sat on the edge of his bed.
He knew he wasn't the only newcomer tonight.
But he also knew:
None of them came to make friends.
They had simply arrived—
before the next round of the real competition began.
—
[Chapter Prologue]
It looked quiet.
But beneath the stillness, something had already started to move.
Floor 22 wasn't a place of belonging—
it was a starting line.