在线观看黄av未满十八

But now, those days seemed like a distant memory.

The sky had grown darker, with thick gray clouds rolling in from the northeast, spreading across the city like a damp blanket. The air was dense with moisture, signaling an imminent downpour. It could start raining any minute.

Yu Sheng clutched the plastic bags filled with vegetables and spices he had just bought from the supermarket, hurrying along with the scattered crowd as they crossed streets, all heading home beneath the gloomy, darkening sky.

As he passed a shop, Yu Sheng stopped, drawn to the sign above the entrance. He stared at it for a few seconds before tearing his gaze away and continuing on his way, shaking off the unease gnawing at him.

The streets were getting emptier. The once bustling city seemed to quiet down as if holding its breath, waiting for the rain. Yu Sheng glanced at the commercial street ahead, bathed in the soft glow of shop lights. Despite the scenery being all so familiar, he couldn’t shake off the unfamiliar sensation in which he couldn’t describe.

Yes, unfamiliar. Yu Sheng had lived in this city for over twenty years, yet now, this Boundary City seemed like a place he no longer recognized.

It wasn’t the same city he remembered. Some things looked familiar, but more often, they seemed subtly off. He clearly remembered the skyscraper in the city center being called Boyuan Tower, not this new “Council Tower.” And that shop on Siyuan Street. It used to be just a brick wall. Even his old home wasn’t the same—it had been replaced by an enormous, crumbling old house deep in the old town, leaning as if it might collapse any second.

But what unsettled him most were the other things. Things that didn’t belong. Old-fashioned phone booths that appeared randomly at street corners, steam trains chugging along rooftops in the dead of night, empty classrooms echoing with voices reading lessons out loud, and…

Yu Sheng’s breath caught as his gaze fixed on something under the streetlamp ahead—a tall, thin shadow stretched like a dark pole.

He raised his head, squinting at the streetlamp in the distance. A silhouette stood there, impossibly tall and spindly, its body thin as a stick. It towered three or four meters high, with a pitch-black face, void of any features. The shadow seemed to be watching him, though it didn’t move. Just… stood there, staring silently back at Yu Sheng.

Pedestrians rushed past beneath it, completely unaware of the eerie figure by the streetlamp. Some even walked through it as if it weren’t there at all.

Only Yu Sheng could see it.

After a few tense moments, he tore his eyes away, his heart pounding in his chest. He took a sharp turn, picking up his pace as he hurried down another street, trying to shake the lingering sense of dread.

Yu Sheng couldn’t tell if the city had changed—or if he had. But he knew, without a doubt, that the normal life he had once known had vanished one sunny morning two months ago.

It was that bright morning when he had opened his front door, intending to visit the small supermarket on the corner for some oranges.

That was the last time he opened the door to his home. Ever since he hadn’t seen it again.

He’d thought long and hard about it—maybe it was some kind of “crossing over.” When he stepped through the door that day, he must have entered a parallel world that was similar but subtly different from his own. He couldn’t find his way back because the door had disappeared when he passed through it.

Or maybe something within him had changed. Perhaps at that exact moment, or shortly after, something had shifted. Now, he saw things others couldn’t. He was still living in the same place, but the familiar things—the ordinary, everyday things—had faded from view, replaced by strange, unsettling shadows.

But there was no point in trying to figure it out.

Whichever way he looked at it, the simple life he remembered was gone. And this vast, strange city was like an endless forest, trapping him in its dark, twisting branches. In the two months since, Yu Sheng had barely begun to adapt to this “new home,” let alone uncover any of its secrets.

Still, at least he was Yu Sheng here. He had ID, a legal address, and enough money to get by. He even had a job—though not an exceptionally reliable one. If this really was some sort of “crossing over,” he was lucky not to face the usual problems of identity most travelers encountered: “Who am I? Where am I? Where do I get an ID?”

Those were crucial concerns in a city as orderly as this modern metropolis. In a society with strict population management, living without some form of documentation would be impossible.

On the other hand, crossing into a chaotic society, or even a lawless world, would have brought other dangers—like being hunted as an enemy spy, executed as an alien invader, or mistaken for a monster and killed on sight. Or even worse, being captured by a goblin in a cave and stewed…

These thoughts flickered through Yu Sheng’s mind as he took a shortcut through the narrow alleyways beside the commercial street.

The sky was getting even darker, and the strange things he had seen before were starting to reappear more frequently now. From the corner of his eye, he could see flickering shadows moving along the aged walls of the buildings. A cat leapt from the shadows, balancing gracefully on a beam of light that seemed to come from nowhere. It meowed twice in his direction before vanishing into the falling raindrops, merging into the puddles on the ground.

The rain had come sooner than he expected.

The wind picked up, biting at him with a cold edge, seeping through his clothes.

Yu Sheng grimaced, lifting his shopping bags over his head to shield himself as best as he could and quickening his steps. If it weren’t for that shadow by the streetlamp, he would’ve taken the main road and been home by now. That house might have been creepy, but at least it was somewhere to shelter from the rain.

He cursed under his breath, his mind returning to the black figure under the streetlamp.

From experience, Yu Sheng knew that these strange things he saw were usually harmless—as long as he didn’t mess with them, they wouldn’t mess with him. But even knowing that, his instincts told him to avoid anything that looked too eerie. Taking this detour had been a mistake.

The cold deepened, the air thick with an unnatural chill for a random shower.

Yu Sheng frowned.

He realized with growing alarm that his breath was misting in the air, and the raindrops that fell were hard, sharp, like icy needles stabbing into his skin. The ground beneath his feet was turning into a slick mirror, reflecting the falling rain like a glassy sheet.

Panic surged in his chest. He had never seen anything like this before—not even in this bizarre, twisted version of the city. There was something… malevolent about this rain.

The malice in the air made his skin prickle.

He looked around frantically, but the street that had been filled with a few other people moments ago was now completely deserted. There was no one else in sight. The lights in the distance were dim, and the world around him seemed to warp, the intersection at the end of the street shifting between near and far.

The whole world felt like it was shrinking in on him, leaving only the freezing rain and the empty, closed buildings around him.

Yu Sheng’s pulse raced. He sprinted toward the nearest building—a shop with an old iron door. He didn’t care what kind of shop it was; he just needed to find shelter and help.

The rain was turning into something far worse, each drop biting like a shard of glass. And the air was so cold now that it hurt to breathe.

He reached the door and pounded on it desperately. “Is anyone there—?”

His voice died in his throat.

There was no door. It was only a painting on the wall.

And the windows? They were painted too.

A faint rustling came from behind him.

Heart pounding, Yu Sheng slowly turned around, dread pooling in his gut.

In the reflection of the rain-slicked ground, a shadowy figure was taking shape. Emerging from the darkness was a strange, twisted creature.

It was a frog—a massive frog, nearly a meter tall, with a head covered in countless, unblinking eyes. Its slimy body glistened, reflecting the rain like a warped mirror.

The frog’s mouth opened, and in an instant, a sharp tongue shot out, aiming straight for Yu Sheng’s heart.

“SHIT!” Yu Sheng swore, leaping to the side, his hand flying to the baton he carried for protection. He twisted his body, dodging the attack.

But the tongue moved unnaturally, curving in mid-air and piercing straight through his back, out the other side.

“Wha—?”

Yu Sheng stared down, eyes wide, at the tongue sticking through his chest. His heart, still beating, was impaled on the tip.

“Fucker… that’s mine…” was his last thought before everything went black.