At 3:17 a.m., Linjiang City reset once again.
This was the seventh time Xu Jin had woken up. Every face in the family portrait on the coffee table had been scratched out. The fridge was covered in notes: “Don’t drink the milk.” “Don’t trust the neighbors.” “Be home before nine tonight.”
The whole world said he was crazy. His psychiatrist said he suffered from severe delusions. His coworkers had nicknamed him “Sleepwalking Immortal,” and the neighbors called him “that daydreamer” behind his back.
Only Xu Jin knew that the city went through a complete reset every seven days. Everyone forgot everything, while he retained all his memories. The streets, shopping malls, and schools were all realistic simulations built by the System. His neighbors, coworkers, and even his psychiatrist were all NPCs assigned by the System.
The most ridiculous rule was this: anyone who dared to remember, just like him, would be erased by a deafening blast. Everyone in the city would be wiped clean and released into the world again.
So Xu Jin lived like a respectable madman. He was always gentle and polite with his neighbors and never picked a fight with anyone, keeping all his emotions beneath a perfectly mannered exterior. No one knew how big a blade was hidden inside this harmless pushover. The “administrator” sent by the System lived on the third floor, a woman who seemed unfailingly kind. He kept his blade buried deep within himself, quietly waiting for the administrator to make a mistake.
