林涛睁开眼的时候，脑子还有点懵。映入眼帘的不是熟悉的出租屋天花板，而是一排排老旧的木制书架，空气中弥漫着一股淡淡的灰尘和旧书的味道。他掐了自己一把，疼得龇牙咧嘴。

“嘶……草，这谁干的？”林涛揉了揉太阳穴，等缓过劲来，他猛地坐直身体，环顾四周。

这不是他朋友老王那破旧的书店吗？

“老王，你小子又在搞什么名堂？”他冲着门口喊了一嗓子。

门口静悄悄的，只有外面的阳光斜斜地照进来，在满是灰尘的地板上投下斑驳的光影。

林涛心里咯噔一下，一种不祥的预感涌上心头。他慢吞吞地站起来，走到门口，推开门，外面空无一人。他又喊了几声，依然没人应答。

“不对劲……”林涛皱起眉头，一种强烈的危机感笼罩了他。他下意识地摸向口袋，摸到了一把冰冷的手枪，以及几枚子弹。

手枪的型号，他太熟悉了——Crossbow！

这不是他最喜欢的火线精英里的武器吗？

林涛愣住了，他颤抖着手，从口袋里掏出手机，解锁，屏幕亮起，却是一片漆黑。

“该死，没电了……”他 curses under his breath, trying to turn it on again, but nothing happens. He pockets the phone and starts to panic. Where are his clothes? His wallet? Everything!

He turns around and sees a tattered sheet draped over the chair. He yanks it off and drapes it over his shoulders like a toga. It’s not the most dignified outfit he’s ever seen, but it’s better than being naked.

Just as he’s getting used to the strange outfit, the ground starts to shake. Books tumble off the shelves, and dust fills the air. A loud noise echoes through the store – the sound of gunfire. Then, more footsteps.