凌晨三点,南城旧区的一栋砖红色老楼中,李乘风侧躺在铁制架床上,身上磨薄的被褥已经约毛了.他的眼睛紧闭,呼吸绵长,仿佛熟睡.但那寂静的外貌下,大脑正以极高的速度运转着,再次重复推演三天后的行动方案.
墙角老挂钟"哒哒"作响,与外头电线杆上传来的猫叫混成一片,构成了他熟悉的孔又熟悉的深夜背景音.他睁开眼睛,瞳幽深得像是来自不见光的井底.
"七十二小时整."他低声道.
李乘风起身,翻开床头一个上了三道锁的旧木箱,取出一张反复摊开已泛黄的城区回忆地图.图上红线交错,箭头与数字密布,宛如战场布阵图.在图的中央,浓墨标记着一个黑色图案:东城金融大厦.
那是一个他,必须然而又
三年前,一场"无声火灾"吞没了整栋大楼,无报警声,无明火,只有金色的符文在浮现,像强制坠落人间的星辰.他当时在三十层走廊清理残料,那道符文横空浮现,下一秒,便烙进了他的意识.同时
,他的时辰陷入了持续七十二的核心昏迷
.来之后,世界彻底了.
他能听到微弱的电流声在地板下流动,能汲取电梯里残留的某种"情绪波动".他的体温忽高忽低,掌心能放出令人热光.他不再畏惧严寒,甚至能用尖指向废弃车库里的感应灯.
他知道,那晚,那道符文,改变了他.
他开始悄悄记录变化,仿佛灵纹,仿古籍中残破的修行法门.他知道自己觉醒了,但没告诉任何人.
直到那场"透视"来临问
三天后,两个面无表情的男子出现在他打工的小饭馆后巷.他们身穿黑灰西装,手持一台发亮的检测仪器,递给他一张无字金属回复,只说了一句话:
"你在大厦,看到了什么?"
他沉默,只是回应.
对方盯着他三秒,然后离开.没威胁,没警告,却让他一无.
第二天,工地停工,包工头失踪.他被匿名举报"蓄意破坏设备",在无证据下,被关进少年管教所.
一年半后,他出来了,但家人没了,住所没了,身份也被注销了.
"你们让我安静,我偏不隐藏时间自己."
他用日里靠打零工混口饭吃,夜里钻研那道符文带来的残识.
那些印记现在在他脑海里像呼吸般自然.他连三年能用意念点燃一张纸,用脚步扰乱城市摄像头的盲区.
他知道——符文不只是异变,打开通道的开关.
他打开手机,其他定制倒计时应用正精准跳动:71:59:42
"三天后,他们会再次聚集."
"而这一次,不会再有人把我从棋盘上抹了."
他站起身来,走到窗边,凝视着那片灯火辉煌的金融区,那座又陌生又陌生的巨楼,仿佛沉睡的神魔.
"我要你们一个人清醒地看着我,让你们曾经坚强地加在我身上,让一切回来."
3 a.m. in a brick-red tenement deep in South City's slums, Li Chengfeng lay on a thin mattress atop an iron bedframe. The room was silent, save for the ticking of an old wall clock and the distant howls of stray cats echoing off the alley walls. To the outside world, he was fast asleep. But within, his mind worked like a storm engine, endlessly calculating every contingency of the plan set to unfold in seventy-two hours.
He opened his eyes. The pupils were bottomless, reflecting no light.
"Seventy-two hours remaining," he whispered.
Li rose and unlocked a battered wooden chest beneath his bed. Inside, folded with surgical precision, was a yellowing map of the inner city. Red lines crisscrossed the layout like a general's battlefield strategy. At the map's center, encircled in thick black ink: East City Financial Tower.
That place was a scar.
Three years ago, a fire that made no sound or smoke consumed the tower. No sirens. No news. But on the roof—he saw it: a golden rune, descending like a fallen star.
He had been cleaning the 30th-floor corridor when the symbol appeared in midair. It didn't burn or blind—it simply etched itself into his mind.
Then came unconsciousness.
For seventy-two hours, he was unreachable. When he woke, the world had shifted.
He could hear electric pulses running beneath floorboards. Elevators seemed to hum with residual emotions. His body began reacting in strange ways—emitting heat, resisting cold, activating dead electronics with a touch.
He knew—something inside him had changed.
He began documenting the patterns, tracing the symbol again and again, attempting crude energy flows like the ones he'd glimpsed in esoteric scrolls. He told no one. He trusted no one.
Until they came.
Three days later, two men appeared in the alley behind the kitchen where he washed dishes. They wore charcoal uniforms with faint symbols embroidered at the shoulders, and held devices that glowed with a blue shimmer. One handed him a smooth metal card—blank—and asked a single question:
"What did you see that night?"
He said nothing. Just shook his head.
They stared at him for three seconds. Then left.
No threats. No warnings. But the consequences came swiftly.
The very next day, his worksite shut down. The contractor vanished. An anonymous report accused him of sabotage. With no defense, he was sentenced to juvenile detention.
When he emerged over a year later, everything was gone—his family, his ID, even his name in some records.
"You wanted me quiet? Watch me scream."
For three years, he disappeared into the background. Worked odd jobs by day, meditated and researched by night.
The symbol—the rune—was no longer just a memory. It was breathing inside him.
他能指尖迸发模板.只需从监控摄像头下方经过,即可干扰摄像头.在关键时刻悄无声息地移动.
他意识到,那符文并不明显,而是一把**接口**.
他打开手机.定制的倒计时器上,数字像心跳跳动一样:71:59:42.
"他们三天后回来了."
"但这次我不是棋子了."
他站起身来,走到窗前,凝视着闪闪发光的天际线.东城金融大厦在远方若隐若现——依然高耸,依然沉睡.
他低声说道:
"我要你们每个人都看到我的崛起.我要让你们原谅——为你们埋葬的一切."