Rule 001: If you look in a mirror for more than three seconds at midnight, you’ll laugh yourself to death.
I survived.
Not because I followed the rule, but because I simply don’t know how to be afraid.
Rule 023: Enter a door you’ve never seen before, and you’ll return to where you were an hour ago.
I took advantage of it.
Not because I’m clever, but because I treat the rules like a game.
Rule 089: If a dead person calls your name, you’ll become them.
I cracked it.
Not because I’m brave, but because to me, the rules are nothing but loopholes.
Until one day, a group of people fell from the sky.
They called themselves transmigrators and claimed they could control the rules.
They said the natives were inferior and that we were going to be ruled.
What they didn’t know was this:
I’ve spent three years studying the rules.
Not to survive.
But to wait for this day.
When rules become weapons,
when indifference becomes an inborn talent,
the last person with antisocial personality disorder
becomes this world’s…
only variable.
