Even I Can't Get Out of the Rules I Wrote

Lin Chuan was laid off four times. The last time he was replaced by AI. An email draws him into the Dream Authority, an interdimensional company that designs replicas of human sleep. The first interview question: Design a room that can trap people in five minutes. It took Lin Chuan forty-seven seconds. S level. But he soon discovered that something was not right about the job. When he was sleepless in the early morning, his hand would get up on its own and write rules that he had not written before. In the empty bed next door lives a roommate that no one can see. There are forty-eight versions of himself locked in the sample room - No. 47 Has escaped, No. 49 Is the calibrated control group, and No. 50 Has not yet been activated. And Lin Chuan is the 48th running version. An experimental subject that is continuously observed. Others clear the copy. Copy of Lin Chuan design. When he finally found out who wrote the system - his twenty-year-old self, in a cement room, using an old computer with whitened keyboard letters - he faced a question: Who do you want to protect, who pays the price, and whether the person who wrote the rules is legal. The answer didn't come out until the end. It was two words that had never been spoken twenty years ago.