闹钟响了第三次的时候，李崇直接掀了被子，单脚踹掉了闹钟。 stereo harsh beeping echoed through the small apartment, jarring him awake for the third time. He kicked the alarm clock across the room with his bare foot, the satisfying crunch of plastic meeting tile filling the silence. The sunlight streaming through the blinds was already bright enough to stings his eyes, so he stumbled out of bed, his feet slapping against the floor in his worn-out slippers.

"Ugh, another Monday," he muttered under his breath, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he headed for the window. He yanked the curtains open, revealing the familiar sight of the waking city. Cars honked, the rumble of traffic vibrated through the concrete beneath his feet, and in the distance, the skyline of the metropolis unfolded like a painting.

It looked just like any other morning, but something about it felt different, almost sacred. This was his life, his city, his chance to start over. A slow grin spread across his face as he took in the scenery, the buildings, the people rushing by like ants on a massive hill.