"Zhizhi."
The sound of the mouse crept closer and closer. Something tiny moved across Tom's body. His eyelids twitched. He tried to open them but couldn't, as if trapped in a nightmare.
The mouse suddenly froze.
A sharp click broke the silence—the door lock opening. A ray of light spilled into the cell, stabbing at Tom's eyes.
"It appears you're still alive."
The voice was cold, mocking. "I wanted to obtain another replica of the prisoner's exceptional traits. I'll escape after eating. If I don't, I'll die here."
A piece of black bread landed beside him with a heavy thud. Then the door slammed shut, and the lock clicked again.
Tom listened as the footsteps faded. Slowly, he opened his eyes.
He was in a filthy prison cell—rotting garbage cans, broken wooden trunks, and several decaying corpses filled the space. The stench was suffocating.
He pushed himself to his feet and staggered to the iron door. Rust flaked beneath his hands. He shoved at it again and again, but it wouldn't budge. Whoever locked it had made sure it stayed shut.
His gaze shifted to the bodies on the ground. Young men and women, all barely in their twenties. Their flesh was ruined, their faces twisted in agony.
In a daze, Tom bent down and tugged a long strand of hair from a female corpse. His hands moved on their own, picking the lock with unnatural precision.
"Holographic games are this powerful now?" he muttered. "I shouldn't even know how to open a lock."
He hesitated, then whispered, "System… you're here."
A cold, mechanical chime answered.
"Open the character panel."
Player: Tom Cruise
Sequence 9: Prisoner
"The mind is a prisoner of the body, and the body is a prisoner of the world. You are a born prisoner. As the sole survivor after losing control, you caught the attention of beings beyond comprehension. Though your name is plain as a green flower, He still wants you to bear children."
"Newbie benefits: please strictly follow the acting method. This is the upgrade key. The name of the sequence is the role the host must play."
Tom frowned. "Who is He? How do I play this game?"
"Players are invited to explore on their own."
The system repeated the phrase, cold and unwavering.
Tom clutched his head. He had no memories of before entering the game. He only knew he was a player. His name, his past, even his gender—everything else was blank.
When the system bound him, he had casually chosen a body, a name, and a role. Now, he regretted it.
If he had known how real the game would feel, he would have created a handsome face, chosen a better name, and avoided becoming a prisoner.
There was only one task: Prevent the Doomsday.
But what was the Doomsday? How could he stop it when he didn't even know what it was?