I opened a late-night convenience store, and the first item in the business manual is: it doesn't close from 1 to 3 a. M., But don't look at the surveillance camera. There are always strange customers here - a man in a trench coat who buys ghost coins, a little girl who wants expired potato chips, and a clockmaker with no facial features. I couldn't refuse, I could only record their obsession and help them fulfill their unfulfilled wishes. But there were more and more of them, and the convenience store got bigger and bigger, until the shadowless man handed over a note: "You have become the anchor of the rules. In three days, the abyss will come to you."
