On the sixty-seventh day after the abyss fell, Li Yuwu was pulled into a non-existent office building wearing his faded panda pajamas and a slipper with a crack on his left foot.
The system said: Survive for seven days or find the exit.
When others screamed, she counted the flashes of the fluorescent lamp. When others ran away, she squatted on the carpet and dipped a finger in apple juice. The memo on her phone is full of numbers and question marks, and the battery is still 31%.
Her teammates call her cold-blooded, and her opponents call her crazy, but she doesn't care.
She dug out her father's notebook from 2005 in the drawer of the office on the sixth floor, which read: Project code name: Mist. Alternate number: 007. There was also a line of small words, seemingly written for her: Don't go down.
But her father had brought her to this building when she was seven years old. He pushed open the fire door, walked out, and came back.
She always thought it was just an ordinary day.
Until Abyss told her: Before your father jumped off the building, he left the fragments of Abyss on you.
That row of garbled tattoos is not a last word, but a key.
Abyss number 007, the building she had been to was waiting for her.
Motto: Rules are meant to be broken. When the world becomes a prison, the only way out is to be the exception to the rule.
The abyss does not come, it is always there, waiting for you to come back.
What you thought was an escape is actually a claim.