The move-in day at the Sun-cheong street apartments was an exercise in calculated charisma and strategic domesticity.
To the residents of the aging building, the arrival of the Kim siblings was like a scene from a high-budget drama spliced into a gritty documentary.
A sleek, matte-black transport van sat idling at the curb, and while a professional moving crew—vetted personally by Ciel—efficiently hauled in crates of high-end minimalist furniture, Arthur stood by the entrance, the morning sun catching the silver-white silk of his hair.
He wasn't dressed like a corporate heir; he wore a simple, expensive charcoal turtleneck and tailored slacks, the picture of a refined young man seeking a "quiet life" in the city.
Beside him, Soha bounced on the balls of her feet, her eyes wide with the nervous excitement of a girl starting a new chapter, her new school uniform for the upcoming semester at Young Ladies High School, already neatly pressed and waiting in her garment bag.
Arthur's entry into Apartment 707 was the final turn of a key in a lock which is newly vacated. As he walked the halls, he felt the heavy, stagnant air of a building populated by the hardworking and the struggling—the exact opposite of the sterile, guarded mansions of his youth.
This was the territory of Shin Youngwoo, the future "Overgeared God Grid," and Arthur could practically smell the lingering scent of cheap cup ramen and desperation that defined the man's current existence.
The inevitable collision happened near the elevators. Arthur was carrying a small, decorative box of expensive Korean pears—a traditional "moving-in" gift—when the doors slid open to reveal a young man who looked like the physical personification of a missed opportunity.
Shin Youngwoo was disheveled, his eyes bloodshot from a marathon gaming session, his shoulders slumped under the weight of a debt that felt like a mountain.
When Youngwoo's eyes met Arthur's, the air in the hallway seemed to thicken. It was a clash of two different worlds: one of effortless grace and silver-spoon elegance, and one of sweat, grime, and envy.
"Ah, you must be the neighbor from 708," Arthur said, his voice smooth and welcoming, expertly masking the predator beneath. "I'm Kim Arthur. My sister and I just moved into the Lee family's old unit. I believe our families have already been in touch through the apartment association."
Youngwoo blinked, his gaze darting from Arthur's porcelain skin to his expensive watch, then to the stunning, energetic Soha standing behind him. Jealousy, hot and bitter, flared in Youngwoo's eyes.
It was the raw, unfiltered resentment of a man who felt the world owed him a victory he hadn't earned. To Youngwoo, Arthur wasn't just a neighbor; he was a reminder of everything he lacked—money, looks, and a sense of belonging.
He let out a non-committal grunt, his jaw tightening as he shuffled past, the envy radiating off him like a physical heat.
"Don't mind him," a warm, maternal voice called out from further down the hall.
Shin Youngwoo's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Shin, emerged from their doorway, their faces etched with the kind of genuine warmth that comes from years of shared struggle and simple joys.
Unlike their son, they saw Arthur and Soha not as rivals, but as two young people starting a life on their floor. Mrs. Shin's eyes immediately went to Soha, her maternal instincts kicking in at the sight of the young girl.
"Oh, look at you two! Such handsome siblings," Mrs. Shin beamed, wiping her hands on her apron as she approached. "We heard from the Lees that a young man was taking over the place. To think you're so young! Moving is hard work. Have you eaten? You must come over for a proper meal once you've settled. A house isn't a home until the kitchen is warm."
Arthur bowed politely, his smile hitting the perfect note of humble gratitude. "That is very kind of you, Mrs. Shin. I'm afraid we've been surviving on coffee and logistics all morning. This is my sister, Soha. She'll be attending the local Young Ladies High School from this term."
The mention of the high school acted like a signal. From behind Mrs. Shin, a young girl with a sharp, intelligent gaze and a composed demeanor stepped out.
This was Shin Sehee. While her brother was a tempest of insecurity, Sehee was the anchor of the Shin household—practical, brilliant, and fiercely protective of her family.
"I'm Sehee," she said, her eyes scanning Soha with a curiosity that lacked her brother's malice. "I go to that school. It's a bit of a walk, but I can show you the best shortcuts if you want."
The bond between the two girls was instantaneous. Soha, who had spent much of her life isolated by the Kim family's status, gravitated toward Sehee's grounded energy.
Within minutes, the two were huddled together, whispering about teachers, local cafes, and the social hierarchy of the school.
Arthur watched the interaction with a cold, analytical satisfaction. By securing this friendship, he had embedded a sensor directly into the heart of the Shin family. Every piece of news about Youngwoo—his moods, his failures, his "lucky breaks" in Satisfy—would now flow naturally through Soha.
Mr. Shin stepped forward, clapping a hand on Arthur's shoulder with a strength that spoke of years of physical labor. "If you need help with the heavy lifting or the plumbing, just knock. This building is old, and it has its quirks, but the people here look out for each other. Welcome to the neighborhood, Arthur."
"I appreciate that, Mr. Shin," Arthur replied, feeling the genuine weight of the man's kindness. It was a strange sensation—to be treated with such unvarnished sincerity by people he intended to use as pawns.
For a brief moment, the "Arthur Spencer" of the past life, the scientist who had been betrayed by his own superior, felt a flicker of something resembling peace. But he quickly suppressed it. He wasn't here for friendship; he was here for the "Chaos."
As the Shins eventually retreated into their home, dragging a grumbling and envious Youngwoo with them, Arthur and Soha stepped into the quiet of Apartment 707. The space was massive, the four bedrooms echoing with the potential of his dual life.
"They seem nice, Brother," Soha said, her face glowing. "Sehee is really smart. I think I'm going to like it here."
"I'm glad, Soha," Arthur said, walking to the large windows that looked out over the city. "We need to be part of this community if we want to live here. Social isolation is never bring us good."
He looked at the empty corner of the living room, the spot where he would eventually place the Diamond-class capsule—the portal that would allow him to bypass the real world's limitations and seize the power of the Blacksmith.
But for today, he would play the part of the perfect neighbor. He would eat the Shins' food, he would listen to their stories, and he would watch Youngwoo simmer in his own jealousy.
Every smile Arthur gave, every polite bow, was a thread in the web he was weaving. The Lee family was safe, their children's education secured by his "rent."
His father's partner, the monstrous Chairman Song, was a distant shadow he would eventually deal with. But here, in the dim hallway of an old Seoul apartment, the real war had begun.
Arthur leaned against the doorframe, listening to the muffled sounds of the Shin family next door—the laughter of the parents, the sharp wit of Sehee, and the frustrated pacing of Youngwoo.
"The board is set," Arthur whispered to the empty room. "The neighbors are in place. And the 'God' next door has no idea his heaven is about to be stolen."