Objectively Speaking, It's the Worst

Chapter 141

Rustle. Soft rustle.

As soon as I came to my senses and opened my eyes, a loud crumbling sound rang out over the bedsheets.

I propped myself up, clutching my foggy head.

"……Huh?"

Something like the shed skin of cicadas lay scattered all around me, as if my body had molted.

No, calling it a husk seemed off—it was more like fragments of hard, thin porcelain.

'Fuck, this isn't grime…… so what is it?'

Had I gone to sleep without showering yesterday?

'No. I showered before bed.'...