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# Chapter 199: Whispers in the Shadows
Minjun’s footsteps echoed with an irregular rhythm that seemed to bleed darkness into his very soul. A cold wind brushed against his ankles, and when he felt his feet slip on the polished floor, he tried to remember where he was. Standing in front of a building? Walking down a street? He couldn’t recall how long the Trap had been consuming him—couldn’t even feel time passing anymore. The Trap had taken hold of his mind.
His heart began to race in his chest. His hands trembled faintly inside his pockets. As he stared into the darkness the Trap had created within him, one truth became painfully clear: he had lost all sense of when it began. Time had become meaningless. The Trap held him captive.
Each time the cold air touched his skin, his body tensed with anxiety. The darkness suffocated him. He realized, with desperate clarity, that he couldn’t remember how long this had been going on. The Trap had stolen even his sense of time.
At 8 AM, he stepped into a café. Warm air enveloped his face, and the scent of coffee mixed with the murmur of conversation. He sat down, aware of his racing heartbeat, his hand brushing nervously against his forehead. The barista greeted him kindly, offering fresh orange juice. But despite the warmth around him, Minjun’s mind remained trapped in shadow.
He sipped his coffee, hoping the aroma and the gentle chatter of other patrons might pull him free from the darkness. But his heart continued its frantic beating, his hands remained clenched in his pockets. Looking around the café, he felt the Trap’s grip tightening. It colored his world black. The scent of coffee mingled with something sweet, and beneath his feet, he felt the warm floor.
Every gust of cold air intensified his vigilance. The darkness the Trap created held him firmly. He realized, with desperate clarity, that he couldn’t remember how long this had been going on. Time had become meaningless. The Trap had stolen even his sense of time.
At 10 AM, he stood before a building. “Destar Entertainment”—the name of the company where he was chasing his dreams. Seeing it, he felt a flicker of light in his heart. The interior welcomed him with warmth, yet his hands remained tense in his pockets.
The building smelled of fresh coffee and hummed with conversation, but his mind remained shrouded. He sensed the Trap’s hold on him. It painted everything in shadow. The scent of coffee and toast mixed in his nostrils, and the warm floor supported his feet.
He stared into the darkness the Trap had created within him, grasping one desperate truth: he couldn’t remember when it started. Time had lost all meaning. The Trap had consumed him completely. His heart raced. His hands trembled.
Every cold gust intensified his dread. The Trap’s darkness held him captive. He realized, with anguish, that he had lost all track of time. The Trap was winning.
At 2 AM, he entered another café. Warmth embraced his face. The barista welcomed him kindly, offering juice. But he sipped his coffee mechanically, trying to empty his mind. He hoped the sounds and scents might free him, yet his heart raced on. His hands remained clenched. The Trap held him.
He stared into the darkness within, grasping one truth: time had become meaningless. The Trap had stolen everything.
Every cold gust reminded him of the Trap’s grip. The darkness suffocated him. He couldn’t remember when it began. Time had vanished. The Trap controlled him.
At 4 AM, he stood before Destar Entertainment again. Seeing the name, he felt a glimmer of hope. But stepping inside, his mind remained dark. The coffee’s aroma filled the air, yet he felt nothing but the Trap’s weight.
He realized, desperately, that he had lost all sense of time. The Trap had won. His heart raced. His hands trembled.
Cold air bit at his skin. The Trap’s darkness consumed him. He couldn’t remember when it started. Time had lost all meaning. The Trap was absolute.
At 6 AM, he emerged onto the street. The sound of buses and voices surrounded him, yet everything felt distant—as if separated by transparent glass. The neon lights blurred before his eyes. The street’s noise assaulted his ears. All of it felt far away, unreal. The Trap had isolated him from the world.
“The Trap is terrible,” he thought bitterly. “Why did I fall so quickly?” He stared into the darkness within, feeling the Trap paint his life black. His heart pounded. His hands shook.
Cold air surrounded him. The Trap’s darkness held firm. He couldn’t remember when it began. Time had become nothing. The Trap was everything.
“Why does the Trap pull me in like this?” he wondered alone. “Do I really want it, or is it consuming me?” He felt the Trap coloring his existence with shadow. His heart raced. His hands trembled.
At 8 AM again, he stood before Destar Entertainment. Seeing the building, he felt a faint glimmer of light. Inside, warmth greeted him, yet his hands remained tense.
“Good morning, Minjun!” someone called out. For a moment, his heart lightened. But the building still felt suffused with shadow. The Trap held him. Coffee and toast mingled in the air. Warmth lay beneath his feet.
“The Trap is terrible,” he thought. “Why did I surrender so easily?” The Trap painted his world black. His heart raced. His hands shook.
Cold air touched his skin. The Trap’s grip tightened. He couldn’t remember when it started. Time meant nothing. The Trap was absolute.
“The Trap is terrible,” Minjun thought desperately. “Why did I fall so fast?” He felt the Trap’s shadow consuming him. His heart pounded relentlessly. His hands trembled.
“Minjun, what should we do?” someone asked. For a moment, he felt hope. “I… I don’t know,” he answered. “How do I escape the darkness the Trap has created?”
He stared into the abyss within, grasping one terrible truth: the Trap had stolen his time, his will, his very self. He couldn’t remember when it began. Time had become meaningless. The Trap had won.