"When doubt becomes a virus, sobriety becomes sin."
The moment forensic doctor Yin Ci was hit by the truck, he saw Xie Zheng's cold eyes in the driver's seat. Three hours later, he woke up at the *Flesh Opera House*——
Under the upside-down dome, a bronze flesh clock gnaws at the player's corpse, and the nerve cords of the faceless doll weave into a killing net in the blood moon.
System rules are engraved into the retina:
▶ Eliminate 13 fake viewers
▶ It is forbidden to touch the doll's spine
▶Those who have not stepped onto the stage before the pendulum stops will always be gear parts.
And Xie Zheng, who was supposed to be an enemy, was being torn apart by countless gears.
"Cooperate, or become a curtain dye." The man's blood-stained hands grasped him, and the gears on the side of his neck broke into a sinister smile.
They are forced to become symbiotes:
► Yin Ci's knife can cut off the cognitive nerve cord, but it cannot cut off the gear mark on his temple;
► Xie Zheng used his body to seal the pollution, and every inch his robotic arm spreads, he is one step closer to being "inhuman";
► When seventeen layers of rusty gears appear in the void, the truth is revealed in the reflection of the pendulum——
*The car accident was not murder, but the most desperate rescue. *
From the opera house to the data cemetery, from the melting pot of memory to the cliff of thinking, eighteen levels of dreams are nested in the abyss of the human collective subconscious.
Dolls, flesh clocks, nerve cords... All strange things are embodied by cognitive toxins. The more you try to understand the rules, the deeper you fall into contamination.
"Escape?" Xie Zheng laughed amidst the sound of gears grinding, "We have long been made into specimens and nailed on 'His' display rack!" At this moment, the Eyes Outside the Pan was staring at the struggle of the specimens.
The rating is not up yet