Chapter One: The Camera Doesn't Know Me

The door shook under a kick. Lu closed his editor, and his phone opened its front camera by itself. He saw his gray hoodie and untidy hair. Above his neck, however, a pulsing mosaic became a detergent commercial. “Powerful stain removal. Not a trace left.” He aimed an old phone at himself. The screen showed no man, only a pothos on the windowsill—dead for six months, now green and swaying. “Open up!” Han shouted. “I'll show the whole city your face!” Lu studied both screens. Fear retreated, replaced by the thrill an editor felt upon finding perfect footage. He opened the door. Han thrust a phone at his nose. “Everyone, look. This is the deadbeat—”