Chapter 1: The Clock Starts Ticking
Li Cheng woke up to the sound of his alarm clock blaring in the still darkness of his cramped apartment. Groggily, he slapped at the snooze button, trying to shake the fog in his mind. His hand brushed against the cold metal of the old stopwatch on his bedside table. It was a cheap-looking thing he'd picked up at a flea market a week ago, intrigued by its intricate engravings. For reasons he couldn't explain, he'd felt drawn to it.
The morning was like any other: gray skies, stiff suits, and the never-ending grind of his mundane office job. Li Cheng trudged through the crowded streets of the city, his eyes focused on the cracks in the pavement. The air buzzed with activity as vendors called out to passersby and delivery bikes zipped through traffic. His office, a soulless gray building wedged between high-rises, was no more inviting than his cramped apartment. He entered, bracing himself for another day of deadlines and passive-aggressive emails.
At his desk, he felt a strange sensation in his pocket. The stopwatch seemed to pulse faintly against his leg, almost as if it were alive. Brushing off the thought, he pulled it out, examining the engravings again. Something was different. The hands, which he swore hadn't moved before, were now ticking faintly. A soft glow emanated from its surface. He shook his head, placing it back into his pocket. "Just my imagination," he muttered under his breath.
The day passed in a blur of meaningless tasks and brief conversations. His manager, a woman perpetually teetering on the edge of a breakdown, scolded him over missed deadlines. But as she walked away, Li Cheng noticed something peculiar. Above her head floated a glowing sequence of numbers: 47 days, 6 hours, 32 minutes, and 12 seconds. He blinked, sure he was hallucinating. Yet, every person he glanced at had a similar set of numbers above their heads, each sequence counting down.
When he got home, the numbers remained burned into his vision. The street vendor by the corner had 13 days, 4 hours, 5 minutes, and 6 seconds. The stray dog sniffing at a trash can had only 1 day, 22 hours, and 14 minutes left. He stumbled into his apartment, heart pounding. Closing the door behind him, Li Cheng grabbed the stopwatch from his pocket. "What the hell is going on?" he whispered.
Out of frustration or instinct, he pressed the stopwatch's button. The world stopped. The sound of cars outside vanished, and the faint hum of his refrigerator disappeared. He stood in stunned silence, the frozen world around him both eerie and awe-inspiring. The numbers above his head—22,875 days, 14 hours, 18 minutes, and 42 seconds—were the only thing moving, counting down at a steady pace.
In a panic, he pressed the stopwatch again. Time resumed with a jarring crash—the sound of a glass bottle shattering on the pavement below his apartment window. Breathing heavily, he looked at his reflection in the window, the numbers above his head haunting him. "This… this isn't normal," he muttered. The stopwatch, now warm in his hand, seemed to pulse with power.
As the night deepened, Li Cheng couldn't sleep. His mind raced with the possibilities of what he'd just experienced. He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the stopwatch. "If I can see how long people have left... what else can I do with this thing?"