My name is Lin Zhixia. The mental hospital has 407 beds and has been admitted for three years.
They said I could see ghosts and it was a disease. I won't argue.
At three o'clock in the morning, a face was pressed against the window and told me to "run". That night, I was dragged into a level-breaking game where I would die. Seven levels, seven memory fragments - my mother is waiting for me at the end.
The teammates shivered in the corner. I was the only one squatting on the ground with a lollipop in my mouth and drawing rules diagrams.
They say I'm completely crazy.
But they didn't know—three years of drugging, electrotherapy, and locking me up had never cleared my mind of that set of things. I saw the weaknesses of these monsters in the cracks in the walls of the ward three years ago.
Crazy? No.
I call it "ready".
Don't ask if you are crazy or not. Follow me closely and don't look back.
---
"She's not squatting down to act stupid - she's memorizing the rules."
"When she laughs, the monster trembles."
"She has candy in her pocket and the answers to all the levels."
