At seven in the evening, the rules of the entire city changed: you must not look anyone in the eye. Only three people were left alive in Lu Ming’s livestream. He looked up and met the gaze of a figure beneath a streetlamp, its eyes devoid of pupils. The comments exploded: “He broke the rules! He looked!” Lu Ming wiped the blood from the corner of his eye and smiled. “The rule says you can’t look a ‘person’ in the eye. Does that thing count as a person?”
The next second, the [Recorder] template flickered. He had cracked the rule, and the whole city was notified of his name. The livestream’s audience surged from three to 300,000. Guilds, tycoons, and the Bureau of Supervision all set their sights on him. But Lu Ming hadn’t told anyone that he’d been able to crack every rule for a long time. He’d deliberately left one untouched, because hidden beneath that rule was a truth he had to bury with his own hands.
Tonight, he would make everyone believe he was a hero. Only his enemies knew the truth: he was more dangerous than the night.
