> "Since you won't let me follow the rules, I'll break them."
— Death
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[1]A Night Without Pause
5:00 a.m. The hospital corridors were eerily quiet, not even the creak of a cart wheel to be heard.
Outside, the rain had stopped completely, but the sky was still weighed down by a heavy layer of leaden gray.
Gu Ye sat in the duty room, Treatise on Cold Damage and Miscellaneous Diseases lying open halfway before him.
His gaze rested on the handover sheet on the desk—the shadow-writing still frozen on the line [Ward 23 · Shen Mu] — Expired.
By rights, the list shouldn't refresh until after midnight. But he could feel it—Death's presence hadn't gone far.
It was still somewhere in this building.
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[2]The Rules Are Broken
A nurse pushed the door open, her expression unsettled. "Gu Ye, the call light in Ward 13 just went off, but the patient's a vegetative case—hasn't moved in three years."
Gu Ye stood, his fingertip tapping the desk twice in silence. "Death… isn't waiting for the list anymore."
As he stepped out of the duty room, the corridor lights began to flicker one by one, as though some unseen force was brushing along the wiring in sequence.
The flicker wasn't random—it was like a pair of eyes tracking his every move.
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[3]The First Probe
In Ward 13, the vegetative patient lay still, waxy-skinned, the nasal cannula rising and falling faintly with each breath.
But above the bed, the air shimmered like it was soaked in water, slowly condensing into a half-transparent hand reaching toward the patient's brow.
Gu Ye stood in the doorway, not moving immediately. Instead, he casually switched off the corridor light, leaving the ward the only source of illumination.
"Testing my reaction time?" he said mildly.
The hand paused for a moment, then lunged downward—faster than any attempt before.
A flash of blue light flared at Gu Ye's fingertips as he stepped forward in a single stride, wrist turning to lock the hand in place. A seal pressed down instantly, and the palm shattered into fragments of shadow, vanishing.
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[4]Relentless Attacks
The moment Gu Ye drew back his hand, the door to Ward 15 next door slammed open with a bang. Inside, the heart monitor blared in alarm.
The elderly man on the bed was convulsing silently, the shadows in the four corners of the bed swelling into thick black cords binding his limbs.
Gu Ye dashed in, two fingers striking the Shanzhong point, while his other hand drew a half-arc in the air with the nail clipper—
A crescent of blue light sliced through all four cords at once. The shadows split like cut fabric, dissolving into black mist.
The corridor lights went out completely, leaving only the distant emergency lamps glowing a cold green.
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[5]Death's Voice
In the darkness, Death's voice came from all directions at once:
> "Gu Ye, you won't let me play by the rules…
Then I'll break them.
Tonight, I'll choose at random. How many can you protect?"
As the words fell, every call light in the ward lit up at once, the piercing beep-beep-beep chaining together down the corridor like a roll call of the dead.
Among that cacophony, Gu Ye's ears caught a single familiar name—the kind that made his fingers instinctively tighten.
But he didn't turn around. He only pressed his lips together slightly, his gaze darkening further.
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[6]The Hospital Turns Into a Maze
He lifted his head and saw that the end of the corridor was no longer the cardiology wing, but a strange hallway choked with mist.
The white walls glistened with a damp gray-blue sheen, the air carrying the sound of oars and the deep murmur of flowing water.
Gu Ye turned—behind him, the door signs had vanished, replaced by endless fog. A few hospital beds drifted slowly in the mist, as though sinking into the depths of water.
He tightened his grip on the nail clipper, the corner of his mouth lifting faintly. "Alright. Let's see who tires first."
In the next instant, he stepped into the fog. The corridor's end closed slowly like a mouth, swallowing him whole.
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[7]Foreshadowing in the Aftermath
Under the glow of the emergency light, the handover sheet lay quietly on the duty room desk.
The shadow-writing began to multiply—one line, two lines, three lines… Names kept appearing, each one bearing the same small note:
> Remaining Time: Random
And at the very bottom, that familiar name surfaced in silence.