When Nan Ruoxue pulled a sword out of her heart, Shi Yin finally learned that the friend she had known for eighteen years had been hiding a sword in her chest.
“Does it hurt?” “Yes. I’m used to it.”
That evening, they were dragged from the art studio into an infinite-flow world. The System declared: You are bound together. If one dies, both die.
First instance: The Netherworld Train. Seven carriages, seven rules. The silent survive; the noisy die. Reflections are real, and anyone who harms one will perish.
Nan Ruoxue strolled in with a sweet smile. Everyone thought she was the most easygoing one there. Then an icy blue light burst from her chest, frost crystallized into a blade, and she pinned a monster to the wall with one strike. Only then did she smile and say, “I forgot to mention, I’m an artist. I paint your portraits for the memorial.”
Shi Yin crouched in a corner, studying the rules. The gardenia ring on her hand grew faintly warm. She had no idea what it was; she only knew it had sprouted from her palm when she was sixteen.
They weren’t short on money. One came from a family that sold buildings; the other, from a family that sold medicine. The instances’ monetary temptations were a joke to them.
So when the Observer asked what they wanted, Nan Ruoxue smiled and said, “To get back alive. She still owes me a painting.”
Shi Yin’s face remained blank. “I don’t owe you anything.”
“You’ve owed me for eighteen years.”
This isn’t a love story. It’s about two best friends constantly needling and teasing each other, then entrusting their lives to one another.
Welcome to the infinite-flow world.
Make it out alive.
