Night fell like a curtain, shrouding the brightly lit Old Jingmai District.
In Bai Ke's home, scattered lights cast silhouettes on the curtains: someone sat by the window reading a book; someone sat at a table playing with their phone; someone opened the curtains, cupping their cheeks in their hands, gazing into the night sky, idling away as moonlight gently swayed strands of her snowy hair.
In the constant chirp of cicadas, one by one, the lights behind the windows were extinguished by the evening breeze, and the entire apartment complex went dark.
At that moment, in one of the dimly lit rooms.
Ke Mingye lay on his bed, arms behind his head, his mind a whirl of thoughts.
"Every day I throw the dice, and by the evening of June 30, the 'Disaster Dice' will have evolved into a C-level Skill."
