[Battle Royale] [Oriental Cultivation] [Gaowu Jianghu] [Group Portrait] [Unlimited Streaming] [Meat Pigeon] [Roguelike]
When Shen Congge opened his eyes, lots were being cast in the sky.
Thirteen white lots, thirteen people. There are old friends who have been with him through life and death, and there are also legends where he has only heard of his name. The man in sackcloth smiled and struck a silent gong: Welcome to the Wushuang Bureau.
The rules are simple. Seven wheels, seven worlds. The extremely cold snowfield where drops of water turn into swords, the Wen Yun Dynasty where life and death are determined by status, the Evernight Mountain where the sword energy hangs from the top... Each world is only given twelve hours. When the hour is up, those at the bottom will be erased - not dead, but erased. The name, appearance, spirit, and other people's memories were all taken away, as if this person had never existed.
Thirteen goes into eleven, eleven goes into nine, two people are missing in one round, and only one remains in the end.
No one has to kill anyone, but everyone has to outrun everyone. Some people hide their knives to survive, some use their armor as a monument, and some carry the severe cold all night long
Shoulders, just to let my companions hold on for one more hour. Old grudges don't count here, only one thing counts: you are still standing, or you have been called.
Mairen said that the winner's reward is to survive.
There is no ascension, no immortality, no return home. Only by surviving - with traces invisible to others, can we remember the twelve people who have been forgotten by the world.
But who set up this bureau? The old table sat calmly at the bottom of the river. Seven of the eight sets of bowls and chopsticks were untouched. Why was there only one set that was still waiting for someone?
Thirteen people, one of them will survive to the end.
But no one told them: The one who survives to the end is the one who loses the most.
