Lin Xu is an ordinary senior high school student.
Normally, I go to bed at 10:30 and wake up at 6:20 every day. My schedule is as precise as the numbers in a filing cabinet. My only quirk is that I carry a notepad with me so I can jot it down wherever I go. He himself couldn't tell where this habit came from - it seemed to have started a long time ago, so long that he couldn't remember the first day.
At 10:54 that morning, the broadcast of eye exercises was advanced one minute.
The female voice on the radio said: Those who close their eyes should not open their eyes, and those who open their eyes should not close them again. Someone will come to pick you up.
Then a two-meter-tall black figure appeared in the corridor. There is a group of people standing on tiptoes on the playground. The classmate was killed by the rules in front of him and turned into a gray mark on the wall.
Everyone panicked.
Lin Xu didn't.
He opened the legal pad, wrote down each rule one by one, numbered it, analyzed the logic, and looked for loopholes. His heartbeat was steady and his hands were steady, as if he had experienced this countless times.
But he clearly didn't.
He didn't remember being afraid. I don't remember when I learned this set of analysis methods. Can't remember who gave him the old pen in his pocket. He only knew that he couldn't lose - because there was a line on the system panel:
Number of remaining failures: 2.
Three failures and the world collapsed.
He must survive in each copy of the rules, find the truth, and save the world that is being swallowed by the rules.
But as the truth kept approaching, he gradually discovered that the most terrifying thing was not the rules.
It's him.
What on earth had he forgotten?
