Deemed a “Dystopian Apartment,” a building in China has recently gone viral on TikTok. Incredibly, it has the ability to host up to 30,000 residents.
The video was posted by @fatheristheone using a drone and caught people’s attention for more than just the impressive interior and unique design.
People were also astonished after seeing footage that truly captivates the enormity of the building.
Many people have read at least one novel focusing on a Dystopian society. Or at least understand that it describes a society that lives in fear or has been dehumanized.
Most works have been fiction, although some might argue they’re a possible warning about the future.
Either way, China currently has an apartment building that can house up to 30,000 residents at one time. Furthermore, containing everything residents could possibly need.
Features of the Dystopian Apartment
The “dystopian” apartment, called the Regent International, is located in Qianjiang Century City, more specifically, in Hangzhou’s central business district.
The building was actually designed by Alicia Loo, chief designer of a 7-star hotel called the Singapore Sands Hotel, and was inaugurated in 2013.
Impressively, the building is 675 feet tall and is currently home to around 20,000 residents. It is an S-shape and has 36, or 39, floors depending upon which side of the building you are.
Unsurprisingly, it’s one of the most densely populated areas in the world, thanks to the numerous residents coexisting under one giant roof.
Within the more than 30 floors of the Regent International, there are a number of amenities. Some include restaurants, swimming pools, and nail salons.
The building also contains its own grocery stores and internet cafes. Essentially, anything one might find “in town” can be found indoors the “dystopian apartment”.
As a result, many residents may never step foot outside again. Posing the question, will they also never get any fresh air or feel the sunlight on their skin? First, the residents aren’t forced to stay indoors, nor are they forced to live in the “dystopian apartment.”
In contrast, most residents are young professionals and influencers or college students. Both of them greatly benefit from the cost-effectiveness and convenience of living in a place such as an S-shaped building.
Advantageous Living
Living there seems to be incredibly convenient for residents as they have everything they could possibly need under one roof.
Convenience isn’t the only advantage. Its affordability is another great benefit to living at Regent International.
Units vary in size and cost but range from 1,500 RMB, which is equivalent to around $200.00 per month, to 4,000 RMB, which is just under $600.00 per month.
While some are apprehensive, calling it a “dystopian apartment,” others have praised the innovation behind the building. It’s even been called “the most sustainable living building on earth.”
Another interesting advantage comes to light in the midst of a housing crisis that is seemingly sweeping the U.S. The “dystopian apartment” could serve as a model for how the U.S. can possibly create more living spaces for people without taking up copious amounts of land.
Interestingly, one state has already developed something like the hotel turned apartment city. Whittier, a city in Alaska, has a 14-floor building in which all 272 residents live. It, like the building in China, has everything one would find “in town.” This includes a church, school, post office, and police station.
Possible Downsides
Like everything in life, this, too, has pros and cons. After all, the building has been referred to as “dystopian apartment” for a reason.
As previously mentioned, many people are wondering how so many people can live in one place. U.S. residents tend to prefer privacy. Space from their neighbors. Even a yard to hang out in or for their dogs to play.
A major drawback to a housing solution like this is that people will have very little space of their own, with little opportunity to be outdoors or get fresh air. Luckily, the problem of getting fresh air can be remedied by taking a stroll or renting one of the larger units in the Regent International, as some come with balconies, providing some relief from living in there.
I Opened a Mysterious Door in My Cellar—Now I Regret Everything
I never believed in hidden doors or secret rooms; those were things from mystery stories. But when Florence and I decided to renovate our cellar, we found more than just a door behind the old wallpaper. It was something we were never meant to discover, and now, I wish I had never opened it.
You never truly understand a house until you’ve lived in it for some time. That’s what I always believed. Florence and I bought this old Victorian house five years ago. We called it our dream home. It had history, charm, and unique details, the kind of house with a past you could feel in every room.
When we started the renovation project, we thought we knew what we were getting into. The cellar was dark, damp, and unused. Peeling wallpaper and cracked tiles told us it hadn’t been touched in years. But we were excited about turning it into a useful space, maybe a wine cellar or storage room. That’s when we noticed something odd—a section of the wall that didn’t match the rest.
I never believed in hidden doors or secret rooms; those were things from mystery stories. But when Florence and I decided to renovate our cellar, we found more than just a door behind the old wallpaper. It was something we were never meant to discover, and now, I wish I had never opened it.
You never truly understand a house until you’ve lived in it for some time. That’s what I always believed. Florence and I bought this old Victorian house five years ago. We called it our dream home. It had history, charm, and unique details, the kind of house with a past you could feel in every room.
When we started the renovation project, we thought we knew what we were getting into. The cellar was dark, damp, and unused. Peeling wallpaper and cracked tiles told us it hadn’t been touched in years. But we were excited about turning it into a useful space, maybe a wine cellar or storage room. That’s when we noticed something odd—a section of the wall that didn’t match the rest.
In the back corner, we found something even stranger: an old wooden chest, covered in dust and cobwebs. It was locked, but the lock seemed weak, like it could easily break. Florence begged me to leave it alone, but I was too curious. I forced it open, and what I saw made my heart race.
Inside were old documents, letters written in a language I didn’t understand, and something wrapped in a faded cloth. When I unwrapped it, I froze. It was a small, strange object that didn’t belong in this world. Florence screamed and ran out of the cellar, terrified.
I should have followed her, but I was too deep into it. I put everything back in the chest and closed the door, but the feeling that something had changed wouldn’t leave me. Since that day, things have been different. Strange noises, cold drafts, and shadows moving where they shouldn’t.
Now, I regret opening that door. Florence refuses to go back into the cellar, and I can’t sleep at night. I don’t know what we uncovered, but I fear we’ve let something into our home that we can’t control. Every day, I wish I had just left the door hidden behind the wallpaper, where it belonged.
Now, the cellar remains locked. I’ve sealed the door with heavy boards, hoping that will keep whatever we disturbed at bay. Florence refuses to go near it, and our once happy home feels suffocating with the tension between us. It’s like the house itself has changed, like it’s watching us.
At night, I hear whispers coming from the floor below. I try to convince myself it’s just the wind or my imagination, but deep down, I know something’s wrong. The object I found in the chest haunts my thoughts—I’ve hidden it away, but it’s like it calls to me. Florence says I need to get rid of it, but I’m too afraid to touch it again.
I tried contacting the previous owners, but they didn’t know anything about the hidden room. They had lived here briefly before selling the house. No one in the neighborhood seems to know its history, and records of the house are vague. It’s like this part of the house was meant to stay forgotten.
I keep telling myself everything will be fine if I just leave it alone, but the strange occurrences are getting worse. Lights flicker, doors creak open on their own, and sometimes, I catch glimpses of something moving in the dark corners. It feels like the house is alive—angry that we disturbed its secret.
Florence is talking about moving, and maybe she’s right. But part of me knows that whatever we let out, whatever we disturbed, might not stay behind. And now, I wonder if sealing that door was just the beginning of something far more terrifying.
I never should have opened that door.
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