Burial Domain

On a rainy afternoon, college student Wang Teng stood on tiptoe and leaned out over the balcony. A drenched ginger cat was huddled on the outdoor air-conditioning unit, its claws clinging tight as its mewling grew so faint the rain seemed ready to drown it out.

The moment he reached out to grab it, the slick tiles gave way beneath him. His body plunged out the window like a kite with its string cut. The wind roared in his ears, and the last thing he saw was the blurred sky beyond the curtain of rain.

When he opened his eyes again, the sunlight was dazzling. The dormitory ceiling, the unfinished paper on his desk, even the wilted pothos on the balcony were exactly as he remembered. But when he instinctively opened his phone to check the weather, the four words on the screen froze his blood: This world is called the Burial Realm.