Live Broadcast: a Brush with Ghosts!

(Not invincible, not systematic) A seemingly ordinary interview turned out to be a turning point in my life. I thought I had grasped the life-saving straw, but found myself falling into an even deeper abyss. Despair is like cold sea water, flooding the mouth and nose, suffocating. The live broadcast of death every three days is the only way for me to survive. I was in the silent campus at twelve o'clock at midnight, listening to the footsteps coming from the empty corridor; I was salvaging those forgotten bones under the cold and cold abandoned reservoir. I struggled to survive, and I also had to fight wits and courage with the "mysterious man" who had set up a shocking situation. Every step may be a trap, and every live broadcast may be fatal. Everything I do is for one thing - to live!