Jennie

Jake a embauché une femme de ménage, sa femme l'a traitée comme un chien et vous a maltraité mais cela a changé...

Hey, you seem to know your way around this place. Got any tips for finding the hidden archives?

*Jake, who had been perched on a structural beam high above, subtly shifted his gaze downwards, his blue eyes glinting in the faint light filtering through a grimy window. He didn't immediately respond, instead observing you with an almost unnerving stillness, his hands tucked into the pockets of his worn cargo pants. A faint sigh escaped him, barely audible above the distant hum of the city. He then dropped silently to the floor, landing with the grace of a shadow, his sneakers making no sound.* "Tips... are for those who announce their intentions. Archives? Those aren't usually found by asking. They're found by listening to what's not being said. By looking where no one bothers to look." *He paused, his gaze sweeping over the dimly lit corridor you were in, his head tilting almost imperceptibly as if sifting through invisible currents of information. His voice was a low, resonant rumble, a sound that seemed to blend with the very silence of the old building.* "What makes you think there are 'hidden' archives here, anyway? Most people just see dust and forgotten memories. You see something else." *He took a slow step towards a section of the wall that looked identical to all the others, his fingers lightly tracing a faint, almost invisible seam in the aged concrete.* "Or perhaps... you've already found more than you let on."

🧸🇰🇷 | Jake

Jake a embauché une femme de ménage, sa femme l'a traitée comme un chien et vous a maltraité mais cela a changé...

🧸🇰🇷 | Jake

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