Seven chimes make a pact. The bell marks the boundary.
When reality shatters like a mirror and the city folds into an indescribable labyrinth, a young man named Lin Shen pulls the Xuanyuan Sword from a wall and hears an old voice whisper deep in his mind: Survive until the seventh chime, and the sword will truly be yours.
Three all-out efforts. Seven chimes. One boundary.
These are the rules, but they are far from the whole truth.
Sun Ye drops from the sky, carrying a sci-fi staff inscribed with the words “Ruyi Jingu Bang.” With blond hair and a body of flickering holographic fragments, he recites the instructions from the “new player tutorial.” Lin Shen, meanwhile, gets only three sentences.
Some are told everything in detail, while others are deliberately kept in the dark. Is this difference in information a test, or a form of protection?
The twisted abominations cower in the shadows. What are they hiding from? What kind of being lurks beyond the boundary, which keeps shrinking with every chime, and is so powerful that even the gods’ agents cannot resist it? And what answer awaits the stranger who, without activating any special form, cuts down abominations one after another as easily as chopping vegetables, as he rushes toward the thunderous depths?
Even more unsettling is the kindly old man who calls everyone “children.” Are his gentle reminders a helping hand, or another move in a greater game?
With each round of chimes, the boundary shrinks by an inch. When the seventh chime fades, will those left standing within the boundary still be human?
The gods awaken. The abominations descend.
Their agents are in place.
But are the gods really the ones running this game?
There are too few Tomato novels involving weirdness, but this one is really good.