Book World Traveler

My friend had been dead for a week, but he knocked on my door on a rainy night. The hotel idol, the strange old woman, the woman with her head cut off and the maze-like corridor... I thought it was just a nightmare, but I found that I was being dragged into a life written by a "book". Someone said to me: "When the story reaches its end, there is a blank space behind it. If you want to continue, you have to use other people's lives to rewrite your own chapter." If you could live again, would you do it? But, what's the cost? Is it the death of others, or my own annihilation? ——When reality and illusion are confused, and when forgetfulness is more terrifying than death, I realize that this is not someone else's story, but our story.