老王晃了晃脑袋，试图把那些杂乱无章的记忆都甩出去，可它们就跟狗皮膏药似的，死死扒在那儿赖着不走。“啥时候了？我在哪儿？”他嗓子干得像撒了盐，费力咽了口唾沫，视线才勉强聚焦。

灰蒙蒙的光线透过布满灰尘的窗户照进来，空气中弥漫着一股子霉味混杂着某种不知名野兽的膻气。老王嫌弃地皱了皱鼻子，鼻腔里像是被塞了块臭豆腐，咽不下吐不出。

“妈的，这是什么鬼地方？”他猛地坐起身，lies on the ground, a cheap straw mat was his only belongings. The room was small, maybe ten by ten, with a rickety wooden table and two chairs covered in dust. Outside, the sound of wildebeest and monkeys could be heard, and the air was thick with the smell of wild grass.

He patted his pockets and found nothing but a few coins and a half-eaten apple. His clothes were ragged, and his body ached all over. He must have been traveling for days without sleep, and he had no idea where he was.

“Damn it, where am I?” he cursed, trying to remember anything about his past life. But all he could think of was the blinding light and the impact of the ground. Everything else was a blank.

Just as he was about to give up, his eyes fell on the table. On top of the table, there was a small wooden box. He walked over and picked it up,疑惑地打开。