When Jiang Ye, a delivery boy, received an order from "No. 7 Yongye Street" for the third time on a rainy night, a stream of data with blue light suddenly seeped out of the delivery box. The moment you open the door, the neon-lit city splits into a bloody level constructed of code—in the first level, "Pixel Hunting," the NPC's smiling face is a misplaced mosaic, and a giant python made of binary crawls on the subway track. The system prompts rang in the mind: "Welcome to the 'Infinite Corridor', a real-life game with a clearance rate of 0.01%." Along with Lin Wei, a retired forensic doctor with a severed finger, and Chen Entropy, a mathematics professor who is always calculating probabilities, they discovered that the BOSS of each level was actually the embodiment of human collective subconsciousness: the painted-skinned monster in the second level "Mirror Art Museum" devoured all suppressed lies. When Jiang Ye used the energy bar in the takeout box to crack the "0 and 1" death code, he saw on the clearance interface that his life trajectory was written as a string of deletable codes - the end of this infinite game may be to become an eternal string of garbled codes in the system.
