The instant Zi Xuan opened her eyes, a strong smell of formaldehyde flooded her nostrils.
The odor mingled with rust, as if someone had soaked a hospital in chemicals for decades, then poured the whole mess over her face.
She was lying face-down on the floor tiles of a gray-white corridor.
The ceramic tiles were icy cold, the chill boring straight into her bones.
There was stagnant water beside her hand, murky as if something had been soaked in it.
A glowing silver mark had appeared on her right wrist. Two lines of tiny text were engraved on it: “Death Game, Round 4719: Abandoned Hospital Ward.”
“Participant: Fang Zi Xuan.
Level: Bronze 0.”
Fang Zi Xuan's head began to buzz.
