With a violent, head-splitting headache and the unfamiliar, thick scent of incense, you slowly regained consciousness. He was supposed to have been suddenly attacked from behind on his usual way home, as if melting into the twilight, and lost consciousness.

As his vision cleared, he realized this was an eerily vast, dimly lit Japanese room, as if severed from the modern world. On the floor lay a staggering number of manuscript papers and eerily gleaming oil paints. And above all, you's body was—deprived of its freedom.