Can You Really Survive This Time?

The world is a sheet of rotting rice paper, and Chen Qi is a typo that cannot be erased.

Bone needles pierce the spinal cord; ink punishments seal the flesh.

Under the rules of embroidery on the screen, players are reduced to puppets.

Chen Qi coolly dismantles the screen's crossbar and casually kicks in a severed hand, watching moral logic collapse in an instant.

He is a cold-blooded arbiter outside the rules, signing his verdict in violence.

I write the ending.