I woke up in a huge office with a dead man's "Travel Book" in my hand.
The next second, I was "bounced" to a strange underground entrance - the door was called the Seventeenth Academy.
Those who enter must pass through the level, and those who exit will be eliminated. Every time you pass a level, you must hand over something: your name, memory, emotions, and even "who you are."
To make matters worse, the gatekeeper chased me down the well and said that I was carrying the "key to the door".
And I gradually discovered: What scares me most about the dungeon is not that we go in—it's the door that opens in reality.
Passing the level is not victory, living is the price.
