Yang Jian was asleep, but only lightly. He could still hear the ethereal, eerie chime echoing in his mind. The melody, made up of only a few notes, played over and over without pause. Few people could endure such mental devastation and torment.
The Music Box Curse's chime was both a death warrant and the key to preserving his life.
Once the music began, the first person to open the music box would suffer the curse and become unable to die. The curse would last for an uncertain number of days.
Conversely, once the music stopped, the cursed person would certainly die.
There was still no solution to this curse.
Because it was too dangerous, Headquarters kept it sealed away most of the time and rarely used it.
But today, Yang Jian had less than forty hours left before the curse erupted.
Yet while he slept, he seemed to have had a dream in his haze. Guided by the melody in his mind, he suddenly arrived in a narrow, sealed room. The room seemed to have been sealed away for a long time, covered in dust, dim and dark. There was no light, and he could not sense anything around him.
There were no walls around him, no points of reference whatsoever.
The only thing there was an old piano placed in the middle of the room. Although Yang Jian felt that he was standing beside it, he could neither move nor approach the piano.
But he saw a pair of terrifying hands resting on that old piano. Those hands were withered and blackened, hands that should have rotted away long ago, yet they swayed faintly, as though moving, as though playing the piano. But those terrifying hands were incomplete; several of their ten fingers were missing.
Several keys were