The special discounted lunch box from the convenience store had a label that said "Remaining life: 24 hours" - I ate it and my left hand became transparent.
After the lights in the dormitory were turned off, my roommate's dream words were "Follow me", but I didn't respond. When I woke up, I was trapped in her nightmare cycle.
The express locker was overdue for 3 days, and when I opened it, I found the tooth I lost yesterday, with a note attached: "Rule 1: Don't pick up the package overtime."
108 Independent stories, 108 deadly rules.
There is no main line, no connection, whichever page you turn counts as the page.
Anyway, there is always a rule by your side.
