Volume One: First Steps in the City Chapter One: First Steps in the City

The tranquil town lay shrouded in a heavy fog. In one misty corner, inside a dilapidated bus shelter, a young man lay sprawled on the bench, eyes closed. Yet his brow was furrowed, his face drenched in sweat—a silent testament to the nightmare gripping him.

With a sudden scream, Lu Yi bolted upright, his breath coming in ragged gasps as the familiar coldness of metal beneath him steadied his nerves. Was that just a dream? The images still hovered in his mind, chilling him to the core.

He rose slowly, frowning. When did the fog roll in? Scanning the deserted bus stop, he pulled out his phone—only five minutes had passed. But where was the bus? Where was everyone?

Forget it, I'll just call a ride. He tapped at his phone. No internet? Full bars, but no connection? Grinding his teeth, he shoved the phone back into his pocket and tried to reassure himself. With visibility this poor, he mused, you couldn’t tell a man from a woman at three meters, nor human from beast at five—no wonder there were no cars.

Shaking his head, he tried to shrug it off. I’ll just grab some snacks and walk home. He headed toward the shop behind the bus shelter, but after a few steps, he hesitated, glancing back in confusion. In five minutes, the street couldn’t have emptied so completely—no headlights, not even a distant sound. Maybe he’d better ask in the store.

As he walked on, the bus stop faded into the thickening fog behind him. But after several seconds, the familiar shop failed to appear. He finally sensed that something was terribly wrong. Without a second thought, he turned and ran back toward the bus stop. This was too strange; even if he had to wait half an hour, seeing another person would be a relief.

But nothing—how could this be? He shouted in frustration. He’d been running for three minutes; there was neither bus stop nor anything but a sea of fog. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

Minutes slipped by. Lu Yi gave up running to conserve his strength. Was he the last person left in the world? Was he no longer on Earth? A suffocating loneliness crept over him. Just then, a light melody wafted into his ears.

He looked up, drawn by the sound, and saw three large characters illuminated in violet light—“Grand Theater.”

Soon he stood before the entrance of this eerie building. The doors were ajar, but the interior was pitch-black. Looking up, he saw that not a single window was lit. Only the violet glow of the characters cut through the fog, the theater’s actual name swallowed by the mist.

He stared at the dark entryway, a wave of fear washing over him. He hesitated, inching backward, glancing left and right.

“Trial participant Lu Yi has discovered the entrance to this mission world. Please proceed immediately.” An icy voice echoed in his mind.

“Who are you?” Panic tightened his chest.

“Mist City directive: Trial participant must proceed to the entrance of the trial world immediately, or face punishment,” the voice repeated.

Mist City… Lu Yi drew a sharp breath. He remembered now: he’d been waiting at the bus stop, when something had crashed through the shelter from above, collapsing the structure.

He could recall hearing someone say his skull had been pierced—and then… He shuddered, imagining the scene, his hands trembling uncontrollably.

“Am I… dead?” he stammered.

“Final warning: Proceed to the entrance now.” The voice had grown stricter.

He snapped to attention. A trial world? As a college student, he’d read countless web novels and watched plenty of streaming dramas—he’d fantasized about this: wielding a powerful system, traveling freely between worlds, amassing wealth, technology, superpowers; crushing villains and bosses with ease; surrounded by friends, followers, and admirers; school idols and heiresses vying for his attention… In short, a life of carefree adventure—never the struggle for survival.

But now, facing the doorway, Lu Yi wavered.

There wasn’t time to hesitate. “Please enter immediately,” the voice insisted, now mechanical and cold.

“Are they going to erase me?” Lu Yi sighed, but then the voice added, “Failure to enter within thirty seconds will result in being turned into fertilizer.”

Fertilizer? He was stunned. What did that mean?

Suddenly, a series of footsteps echoed on the silent street—mixed with the scraping of claws on pavement, followed by a chorus of chilling howls.

He turned and saw pairs of enormous red eyes, creeping closer through the fog. He couldn’t make out their forms, but the stench was unmistakable. They were as tall as a person, and moving together. Realizing the danger, Lu Yi bolted into the theater without a second thought.

The moment he crossed the threshold, the threat vanished.

Standing under the dim lights inside, he glanced around. As he turned to his left, a grotesquely grinning mask suddenly filled his vision. Before he could react, the mask’s mouth stretched wide and swallowed him whole.

“I—” Lu Yi found himself in a pitch-black void, on the verge of cursing aloud, but forced himself to hold back. He knew the city was about to deliver his task.

Light gradually dawned around him. As an observer, Lu Yi saw the following scene unfold:

A shower rained hot water in a mist-shrouded bathroom. A man, humming to himself, grabbed some toiletries from the rack.

The view pulled back, passing through the bathroom door into a cozy bedroom. The bedding on the bed was gently creased, clearly just used—though not perfectly made, it wasn’t messy. An old tungsten bedside lamp cast a warm glow, beside which lay an open novel.

The view drew closer to the book. Suddenly, the lamp crackled with electricity, and the room’s light dimmed; the lamp flickered ominously.

Whoever was holding the “camera” seemed startled, pausing to warily scan the room.

Lu Yi finally took in the entire bedroom. Both the bathroom door and another door were tightly shut. As the camera moved, the bedroom curtains fluttered in a non-existent breeze, though the window was clearly closed.

He clenched his fists. The key moment was coming.

As the curtains slowly settled, the sound of pages turning filled the air. The camera swung toward the novel, whose pages flipped rapidly as if caught by the wind. Suddenly, a red maple-leaf bookmark flew out, swirling onto the bedding and, with a strange twist of direction, drifted down onto the tungsten lamp.

What was this? Supernatural phenomena? Lu Yi’s eyes widened.

The maple leaf caught fire and landed on the book, which quickly ignited. Embers, driven by the eerie wind, set the sheets alight. Meanwhile, the man in the bathroom was still lathering his hair.

Flames raced through the room. When the first wisp of smoke curled into the bathroom, the man finally noticed. Cursing, he wrapped himself in a towel and dashed for the door, only to yelp in pain as the hot handle burned his hand.

At that moment, a cabinet door, weakened by the fire, crashed down and jammed the bathroom door from the other side.

The man, realizing the mortal danger, threw himself against the door in desperation.

Bang, bang—the door finally gave way under his assault, revealing a room engulfed in flames. He clamped a hand over his mouth and nose, crouching low in an attempt to escape.

But the burning ceiling collapsed on him, sealing his fate.

As the man’s life flickered out, the scene darkened, replaced by a brief message:

Mission objective: Survive for 176 hours.

Reward for completion: 1,000 points. No penalty for failure.

Lu Yi’s lips twitched. If you can’t live to see the end of the mission, what need is there for a penalty? More importantly, the scenario felt straight out of “Final Destination”—a supernatural deathtrap, if ever there was one.

He was a complete novice, and they gave him this kind of mission right out of the gate—how was he supposed to survive?

“Mission information released. If the participant has questions, they may consult their wrist device. The city will answer according to your rank.”

“Commencing transmission.”