Rose Hotel, Room 305, Restroom.
A young girl in nothing but a tube top and shorts stood before the vanity mirror, her head slightly tilted as she used a curling iron to style her long hair.
The white walls and tiles of the Restroom made the cold light falling over her face look unnaturally pale.
The heated curling iron repeatedly pressed against her dry hair, producing an unsettling sizzle within the silent, enclosed space.
"Drip, drip..."
The faint sound was especially clear in the silence. She frowned at her reflection and slowly turned her neck to the right.
The curling iron was still clamped near her scalp, scorching it, as she spotted a shower curtain behind the toilet, concealing the only thing that was not particularly well hidden.
There should have been a bathtub behind it. The faucet above had not been fully tightened and was dripping.
The girl seemed fairly alert, perhaps because she was traveling alone. Her guard was not low, and a thought surfaced in her mind:
"If I can hear dripping, there must be at least some water in the tub. But I don't have a habit of taking baths..."
From this angle, she could see only the pure white shower curtain and had no idea what lay behind it.
The girl pursed her lips, hesitated for a moment, unplugged the curling iron, and slowly walked toward the bathtub.
The instant her face moved away from the mirror, a long-haired man suddenly appeared within it, staring fixedly at her figure.
"Ah!!!"
The piercing scream, accompanied by the clatter of the curling iron hitting the floor, signaled the official start of the mission.
The first victim had finally met her death ten minutes after the mission began.
The girl's dying scream was extraordinarily penetrating, as though it