Rules Are Lies

When you push the door open, its hinges creak.

You don't know whether there's a classroom or a hallway behind it.

But you do know one thing: one of the six rules on the light screen is already wrong.

On the day the Qinglan Middle School instance arrived, every student and teacher saw the survival rules displayed on the light screen.

The rules said: There is no Class 7, Grade 12, at this school.

Su Ye had seen the sign with his own eyes at the end of the hallway: brand-new, gleaming, hanging on the wall.

The rules said: Trust the homeroom teacher.

The teacher's shadow lagged half a beat behind his body.

Anyone who broke the rules would disappear from the school.

The whole school followed the rules.

Su Ye realized that every line of text was leading people in the opposite direction.

A dark red mark spread across the back of his hand.

With every inch it grew, he became a little less human.

But it could track the truth and lead him through the empty classroom, where a faint blue-green light shone through the crack in the door.

Escaping was only the first step.

Before the rules devoured him, he had to expose the truth about this school.

In this instance, there are no free bells.