Lin Mo died six times.
For the first time, he died on the battlefield with a bullet piercing his heart.
The second time, he died in the laboratory, and the explosion swallowed everything.
The third time, he died in a dark alley, with a knife across his throat.
The fourth time, he died sitting in the Zen room.
The fifth time, he died in the office with poisoned wine in his throat.
The sixth time, he died in the ward, and the epidemic took away the last patient.
Each time, he woke up on his eighteenth birthday, taking all the memories with him.
Soldiers, scientists, criminals, monks, businessmen, doctors - six kinds of life, six ways of dying, six sets of skills.
He thought that waking up for the seventh time was just the beginning of another reincarnation.
Until he saw his face on the news.
That face was thirty years older than him, wearing a military uniform, standing in front of the ruins of a war-torn country, with a cold smile.
"Lin Mo" from the first six lives did not die.
When the soul reincarnates, the body continues to live as a "shadow". Six shadows, with decades of memory and power, live in the darkness of this world.
There is only one rule: out of seven people, only one can survive.
After the seventh death, the soul dissipates forever. Not entering reincarnation, not returning to the netherworld, completely - non-existent.
Lin Mo looked at his eighteen-year-old self in the mirror, and then at the experienced "Lin Bing" on the screen of his mobile phone.
"Okay," he said to himself, "this is a high-end game."
