The Speaking Pork Trotter

In the neon of blue and purple, under the thick steel sky, at the forefront of this surge of data, lies the world post-tech revolution.
It's also the dividing line between reality and illusion.
Steel and flesh, past and future.
In this place, the world outside and inside coexist. Everything in front of us feels like a wall of time within reach.
The darkness is slowly creeping in.
But hey, my friend, you gotta know, we can't just counter darkness with softness.
Gotta use fire.

Naming Technique of the Night

Lordbluefire

A stealthy figure wrapped itself tightly, silently getting off the taxi.


Not far away lay the Los Angeles North Suburb Airport, to which he handed the driver a hundred-dollar bill, "Keep the change."


With that, he attempted to sneak toward the airport.


The driver glanced at him and said, "107 dollars, give me another seven."


The masked person replied in a muffled voice, "...Okay."


In this cold black night, his heart raced from extreme nervousness.


However, before he took two steps, he suddenly encountered a familiar face blocking his way.


The masked man turned to run but found more than a dozen students emerging from the woods behind him.


He tried to run to the left, and another dozen students appeared from the green belt, watching him expressionlessly.


358, New Daytime group member