At three in the morning, Su Ming was jolted awake by a strange phone call.
“Number 01 is dead.”
On the other end, his partner Lin Yaqi’s voice trembled. Number 01 was a backup consciousness protected by their company, stored on the most secure quantum server in the world. It should have been almost impossible to hack.
But Number 01 was dead. Someone had completely erased its consciousness.
Even stranger, just before dying, Number 01 had sent a message: “He’s here. He knows I’m fake.”
Su Ming thought it was just an ordinary case, until he uncovered a terrifying truth:
He had 100 copies, and the killer was murdering them one by one, in order.
Twenty-four hours later, Number 02 died.
Forty-eight hours later, Number 03 died.
At this rate, he had 98 days left to live.
But the countdown to his death wasn’t the most terrifying part. There was another discovery:
If he was a copy himself, where was the real Su Ming?
When Su Ming received a call and heard a voice exactly like his own coming through the receiver, he began to doubt his memories, his identity, and even his own existence.
The killer left only a single line of threatening text:
“Fakes should be destroyed. There can only be one real Su Ming.”
Behind this deadly game lay the ultimate questions about human nature, identity, and existence:
When you discover that you’re only someone else’s copy, are you still you?
