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   Occasionally, after prolonged use, the brain still hurts.

   At such times, Fu Anan would close his eyes and rest for a while.

   Until that low dumb bell sounded.

   It's time to go out to work and eat again.

   Fu Anan woke up with a slap in the face, got out of bed and went to line up.

   Today's job is to feed the sheep.

  Fu Anan did today's task well, followed behind her companions, step by step.

  Suddenly, I saw a man running in a panic in front of him, and several people were chasing after him.

  The man screamed for help in panic, and the oncoming people were either indifferent or curious.

  No matter the player or the NPC, no one is willing to stand up, and they appear extremely indifferent.

   Until the mechanical hand in the sky found them, hooked the man up, and punished and warned the group of people who were chasing him.

   These warnings are just like playing around.

  Although these people will not go up for the time being, judging from their posture, it is obvious that they will not let it go.

  Fu Anan stood beside him, and faintly heard the people next to him whispering, "Space props, players..."

   And that man stood in the crowd in fear, looking at the robotic hand high in the sky, as if it was his savior.

   But a space prop, a thousand players want to compete.

   Can the mechanical hands on the top really protect him at all times?

  Fu Anan felt that this man might be dangerous.

   Sure enough, the seventh day of the game.

  The man died.

  In the window of the fifth shelter, Fu Anan watched a mechanical hand clamp the neck of the corpse, rising into the air and slowly leaving.

   Avoiding the monitoring of the robot and killing people will not be punished.

   Obviously, the players who do this are careful, greedy, vicious and bold.

   This death is like a window for an explosion.

  In the following time, every one or two days, someone would die quietly.

  In the morning, the body was found by the robot and sent to an unknown place.

   It hasn't reached the middle of the game yet, many players died by their own hands.

  The players are too dense, which virtually increases the difficulty of the game.

  The people in the warehouse have formed several circles, new players, old players, new players mixed with old players, and these circles are getting bigger and bigger.

  As for the players who did not join the faction, either they were lucky not to reveal their identities, or they became cannon fodder.

  Fu An'an is the former part, still independent among the players.

  As long as she doesn't admit it, she is an iron NPC!

  In order to be absolutely similar, Fu Anan dutifully imitated the words, deeds and living habits of NPCs every day.

   She has been out of training for several days.

  I eat a lot and move less every day, so that I have gained two or three catties.

   Luckily she found something else to kill her time.

  Closing her eyes, the space appeared in her mind.

  Fu Anan is no longer satisfied with playing with the objects in the space, she shifted her goal to the space itself.

   Space itself is a cuboid.

   But it has no border, only shape.

  Having been thinking about this for a long time every day, Fu Anan inexplicably felt that this cuboid was her subconscious concept of space, not that the space itself looked like this.

  Maybe she can change the shape of space?

  Fu An'an, who doesn't have any entertainment tools every day and can only lie on the bed to put on fat, challenges the impossible every day.

   After trying hundreds of times by feeling, Fu Anan really "pulled" the space out of a small hole with his mind.