Something Is Wrong with This Neighborhood's Rules

The day he lost his job, Chen Chuan rented Room 402 in Building 44 of Xingfuli Residential Complex for 800 yuan.

The agent gave him just one warning: “You'd better read the paper behind the door.”

It was titled “Residents' Rules”:

Do not leave your room after midnight.

When riding the elevator, you must face the doors.

Sort your garbage properly, or it will appear on your bed the next day.

You must register with property management before bringing visitors into the complex.

Chen Chuan thought it was a prank.

That is, until midnight, when all the hallway lights went out and a faceless figure walked toward him from the far end, stopping outside his door.

A line of bloody writing crawled in beneath the door:

“You have violated the first rule.”

Just as he thought he was doomed, Chen Chuan suddenly noticed that the rules' words were colored.

Red meant absolute law.

Black meant standard procedure.

Gray meant there was a loophole.

White concealed the true secrets that must never be spoken.

From that night on, Chen Chuan understood one thing:

In this complex, following the rules was enough to stay alive.

Seeing through the rules was how you survived longer than they did.

But the final line of white text behind the door was slowly appearing:

“Rules can be exploited.

But every time you exploit them, they grow stronger.”