47 Lamps, 48 of Me, and Next Is My Daughter

At 2:17 a.m., I jolted awake right on time.

As an electrician, I’m woken every night by a timestamp that shouldn’t exist.

The rows of streetlights across the city aren’t just for illumination. They’re a prison of endless reincarnation, trapping forty-seven generations of people.

From H-01 to H-47, each light holds an electrician’s lingering obsession.

After they die, their memories are uploaded to the lamp posts. Resonating layer upon layer, they give birth to a System that devours human nature.

I’m No. 048, Zhou Haiping.

But I can’t tell whether I’m a real person or a shell copied by the System.

The scar in the web between my thumb and forefinger, the hot screwdriver, the copper button engraved with “Grave Keeper”:

Countless pieces of evidence keep tugging at my memories.

The System loops, replicates, and keeps creating the next “me.”

Now my daughter Yutong has become the next target of the cycle.

Forty-seven lights, forty-seven stretches of the dead’s memories.

I’m alive for one reason: to shatter this endless cycle.

Even if my memories are erased and my identity rewritten, I will find her.